Good News and Interesting Prospects

What a marvelous afternoon I had! I cut out of work at quarter-of-noon and headed to the Queen City for my first prenatal ultrasound, and yet more blood work. Mum and Dad met me outside the office and we chatted for a few minutes after checking in. As ever, Mum and Dad were charming, funny and thoughtful.  I got to see Dr. Badass while we waited (she was on her way out to grab lunch), and as she’s moved to an OB unit that rarely sees the likes of me, we don’t connect much these days, but she was friendly as ever and congratulated Mum and Dad on the pregnancy.

The ultrasound went as expected: We looked at the yolk sac and measured the embryo to determine its gestational age. Going chronologically, it was expected that the embryo would be at 5 weeks, 3 days’ gestation. The doctor informed us that its measurements were in line with those dates. So our expected due date is September 29 (not too far off my initial calculation, which was October 5.)

(This isn't my ultrasound; it's a stock photo. The yolk sac is the little white circle.)

Mum asked whether the hospital would schedule induction to make sure that they would be there for everything. She actually wants to be there through labor! Crazy woman. Honestly, I’m not psyched about the idea of inducing again, but we’ll talk about it as we go along. If this baby goes early like Tempest did, whatever plans we make will go out the window anyway. But Mum is very accommodating, and I’m confident we’ll find an acceptable compromise, regardless.

Blood work went quickly, and one of the phlebotomists I’ve seen several times recognized me on the way out, and asked if I was indeed pregnant. I hadn’t seen her since she did my initial beta hCG draw. She was very excited, and came out with me as I left, to congratulate Mum and Dad. The staff at The Big Hospital is pretty much always friendly, but today it felt like they all came out especially to see and greet us, today. I hope that Mum and Dad felt special, too.

After our appointment, we decided to go to a little farm-to-table restaurant in The Queen City for a late lunch. Mum and Dad are food enthusiasts, and fell absolutely in love with the place from the moment they checked out the menu online (while I was getting my blood drawn. I had given them a list of places I thought they might like just before I went into the lab.) Between the food, the friendly people, and learning about Vermont’s “localvore” movement, we might just wind up with three new citizens, come the end of September! Haha! Oh, and Mum made me a gallon-sized freezer bag of her incredible samoa-esque cookies!

To be fair, the food WAS delicious – I cheated and had tomato soup with tarragon cream, a grilled cheese sandwich and side salad. Mum and Dad tried cheddar ale soup for the first time and LOVED it. Maybe it’s a Vermont thing, but I was surprised they hadn’t had it before. The only thing that might have made it better, at least to my palate, would have been a little bit of pureed apple for sweetness. But that’s me.

Back when I was first pregnant with Tempest, the head of endo-and-fertility at The Big Hospital did a secondary confirmation-of-heartbeat ultrasound. During the procedure, we discussed my being a surrogate, and he asked me to “stay on (his) radar.” Well, what with life and work and new IVF cycles happening, I kind of forgot about it until the other day when my friend (to whom I shall refer as Desert Rose) and I were talking about it. She suggested that I make contact, and see what comes of it. Desert Rose is a highly complementary individual, and went on to assure me that I would be a fabulous candidate to help create governance for surrogacy in Vermont (as there are no laws governing it specifically, now), and maybe to set up the state’s first agency. This of course, she said, could also be a vehicle to either going back to school, or pursuing a different passion: gestational carrier arrangements.

Under such flattery, I decided to go ahead and email the doctor. He responded within half an hour and asked when I would next be at The Big Hospital. I told him I had an ultrasound the following day (meaning today) but that I would be happy to keep him posted regarding my upcoming confirmation-of-heartbeat ultrasound.

Well after the sonographer finished our scan, she said (Such-And-So Doctor) would be in shortly to discuss our results. Instead of Doctor Such-And-So, however, the aforementioned Doctor-Head-Honcho sauntered into the room with my chart in hand. He went over the results with Mum and Dad, then proceeded to tell them what he had said to me, and asked if I would email him again; saying that he wanted to pick my brain. After Dr. Head-Honcho left, Mum and Dad said things along the same lines that Desert Rose had, being highly complementary themselves.

I’m not holding my breath, because “picking my brain” could mean anything from asking me to consult through the entire process of setting up legislation and paid surrogacy in Vermont, to having a chat and dismissing me, to asking me to sign on exclusively with The Big Hospital as a gestational carrier. But we’ll see where this goes. Honestly, it would be incredible to be an active part of the process and the final organization, but I’d be happy to be able to say I helped a little, too.

BOOYAKASHA!

What was it I said my next beta hCG level had to be? 352, I think. Well, true to form, The Über-Ute has provided. Today’s beta hCG was 444. BOOYAKASHA, as Hubs would say. Mum is understandably wary, given her past experiences. My predecessor miscarried all of a week beyond where I am now, so Mum wants me to have another blood test on Monday. This is fine with me; I’m just the oven – she’s the Mother, and what she says, goes.

 Thursday we get to see the “Little Nugget” as Mum called it today, on the big screen. Well, the ultrasound screen anyway. She and Dad are coming up to The Big Hospital for the event. Have I mentioned that I love how involved and communicative they are? Don’t get me wrong; I like I.F. (the previous two babies’ father, for those of you who are just starting to read), but we didn’t talk much through the process of either munchkin, whereas Mum and I text or email just about every day. She’s right on top of all the details and is very involved. I really love that.

 I forgot to mention in previous posts that I got a pregnancy care-package from Mum late last week. She sent me pregnancy tests, pregnancy tea, my favorite sweet potato tortilla chips, some “Kale Krunch” (dried kale with vegan cheddar on it – don’t try it. It’s gross. HA!) and some “Tummy Butter,” for stretch marks. Pooka and I nibbled happily on the chips Friday before I headed down to my grandparents’ house.

 I decided not to use the pregnancy tests, as we were still very, VERY early on in the then-possible pregnancy, and I didn’t want to jinx the whole thing. Well, I don’t know as I honestly thought it would jinx anything, but I hadn’t used pee-sticks with Wiggle Worm or Tempest, so I didn’t bother this time. I might in a couple weeks just so I can take a picture and include it in the album I want to make for Mum and Dad, to give them at Little Nugget’s birth. The plan is to take a picture of just my belly each week or month (I haven’t decided yet) to show the progression of Little Nugget’s growth.

 As for the tea: It’s delicious! It’s got all kinds of herbs and plants in it, but there’s a strong hint of something akin to anise, which I LOVE. I did have to laugh about the Tummy Butter a little. It was so incredibly sweet of Mum to think of that for me, but I already have stretch marks – most of them from Pooka, and thoughtful though it is, no amount of moisturizing is going to make them go away. Please understand: I’m not bothered in the least by my stretch marks. In fact, I’m rather fond of them. I earned those tiny scars and I’m quite proud to carry them.

Anyway: all is well and will continue to go well. I’ll update some more on Monday!

Well, Crepe.

Well, crap. My previous blog template has magically, through my own ineptitude, been decimated. So I took some time and played with some new templates and pictures I found online, and made a whole new look. Hopefully this will make it easier for some of you to read, at least!

Nothing Can Stop The Über-Ute!

The results are in, ladies and gentlemen: Nothing can stop the Über-Ute!

 I am, once again, a preggosaurus.

 I drove over to the parts store in the plaza across from my office to pick up a new set of windshield wiper blades (the old ones finally croaked after 3 years) and Mum called me to tell me, “We’re pregnant!” After which, there was much giggling and squealing.

 My progesterone and estrogen levels are good and high, and my beta hCG is 176 (Wiggle Worm's initial beta hCG was 89. Tempest's was 66). If I remember correctly, the embryo is considered to at 2-weeks’ gestation in a three-to-five day transfer, at implantation. In my case, I’m pretty sure the embryo implanted the morning after the transfer, so that would make me a little over 3 weeks pregnant, for the purpose of calculating a due date. (Right around October 5, if I’m not mistaken.)

 I’m headed back to The Big Hospital on Thursday for follow-up blood work. We want to see my hCG levels double, at least. 176 is a good solid number, but we want to be up to at least 352 when I go back. 

Also: I am now obligated to eat only organic foods, per my contract. I’m actually pretty okay with this, having changed my diet pretty significantly back in October.

I Hate Waiting.

Well, I went up to The Big Hospital early this morning – arrived at 7:00 am – to have blood drawn to check my estradiol (estrogen) and progesterone levels, and my beta hCG levels (pregnancy hormone). The phlebotomist was very pleasant: She remembered my face (just not my name) and wished me the best of luck as she loaded the vials of my blood into a bullet-shaped capsule about as big as my thigh and sent it down a vacuum chute to the lab. She also assured me that the results would be ready in 20-30 minutes.

Well, here it is, 11:00 am. I’ve emailed back and forth with My Nurse at The IVF Clinic. She’s called The Big Hospital and they have nothing to report yet. ACK! I’m a nervous wreck! Mum and I are both waiting on pins and needles to see if I am, in fact, a preggosaurus again. I haven’t had nausea as significant as I did with Wiggle Worm and Tempest, but I’m eating better and more regularly now than I did with them, so the fact that I eat good food on a schedule may have a lot to do with the very mild queasiness that doesn’t last long. I’ve also had headaches, whereas I don’t tend to get them very often except when I’m pregnant. And on top of that, I have broken out in true teenage, pizza-face fashion (well, at least for me!) I’m pretty strict about face-washing, and yet I’ve managed to become a zit-queen. The lack of nausea makes me worry that The Über-Ute has failed me. Hubs assures me that I have nothing to worry about, and that it’s my improved eating habits that’s killed my telltale first-trimester nausea. My belly does feel a little tight down low, which is also a common symptom for me, so here’s hoping!

Blargh. Waiting. Will update once I have some news.

Can You Say, "Fiasco"?

What a fiasco the last couple days!

I went up to the Little (local) Hospital on Tuesday morning to have blood drawn to check my estrogen and progesterone levels. Everyone was pleasant and I was in and out very quickly. That afternoon I got a phone call from My Nurse at The IVF Clinic, asking if I had been taking my progesterone shots. Of course I assured her that I had – that I had gotten a little extra the night before, even (see previous blog post.) She said my progesterone levels were extremely, extremely low. This, of course, precipitated a small panic attack. My Nurse said she’d call the hospital back and ask them to re-run the test and get back to me.

Moments later, the phone rang again and My Nurse told me that she had been sent my results from January 7^th, when my progesterone levels were SUPPOSED to be nice and low. She said she’d call the hospital back and ask for Tuesday’s results. The phone rang again very shortly thereafter, and My Nurse asked if I had indeed been in for blood work that morning. I assured her I had. It was at that point we discovered that, despite my having told the nurses at Sunday’s transfer that I was going to the Little Hospital, no one told My Nurse, so she had called the Big Hospital for my results. Of course, the Big Hospital had nothing to send her! So I looked up the number for the lab at The Little Hospital and gave it to My Nurse.

When My Nurse called looking for my results, the lab attendant actually laughed at her. My orders were marked to be done “Stat” (meaning immediately – not “as soon as possible,” not “by the end of the next business day” but IMMEDIATELY.) The Lab told My Nurse that they’d have the results to her by the end of the week; seven-to-ten days at worst. These are time-sensitive tests! The Clinic needs to know where my levels are, so they can have me adjust my medications to best support the pregnancy!

So we agreed that I would go up to the Big Hospital on Wednesday morning. My Nurse emailed me new orders and faxed them ahead so everything would be ready for me. Being myself and liking to have all my ducks in order (and because, being a rural state, it’s not uncommon to need extra paperwork when dealing with outside medical facilities), I printed off the orders on Tuesday night. At which point, I noticed that the “Stat Results Requested” box had not been checked.

I emailed and called The Clinic in a tizzy, because the last thing we all needed was to have results delayed yet again. After many phone calls and emails from both me and Mum, (Wednesday morning) they agreed to re-fax the orders, and I had a revised copy in hand. Except that when I got there, the new orders with “Stat” marked on them had not arrived, so in the end we just used the ones I had brought with me.

We’ve talked it over, The Clinic and Mum and I, and agreed that from here on out we won’t bother with the Little Hospital for this pregnancy at all.

A Very Medical Weekend

People this morning have been asking me, “How was your weekend?” It’s standard fare at the beginning of the work week, so I expect it. This week, however, my response is, “Medical. My weekend was very medical.”

Saturday morning I was supposed to pick up the rental car I had reserved to drive down to The IVF Clinic. At 8:30, I got a phone call from the rental place, asking if they could push my reservation back to 10:30 because their manager was still en route, and the interstate was closed due to icing. This worked out well as I had been up sick since 4:00 am. I actually wound up sleeping till about 11:30, and got to the rental place a little after noon. By that point I was feeling much better. Pooka had had a similar “bug” earlier in the week, and it only lasted about eight hours, thankfully. The five-and-a-half hour drive to the clinic went smoothly and without incident. My biggest “complaint” was that the CD player in the Jeep Compass I was driving didn’t have the best stabilizer, so Disk 4 of the “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince” audio book I had borrowed from Vriska’s Mom skipped a little.

The hotel was lovely, as always, and I got to take a long, hot shower – a luxury I don’t have at home, as we share a water heater with the upstairs apartment, and it only works for so long before it has to reheat a new tank of water. If I’m lucky, I get fifteen minutes of hot water in my bathroom at home.

Sunday morning I got up at 5:30 and made my way to The Clinic for 6:00 for blood work and ultrasound; both of which were… You guessed it: The “P” word (perfect) for embryo transfer. I was sent back to my hotel to get breakfast and relax for a few hours, with instructions to return at 9:00 am for laser acupuncture and embryo transfer. Of course this meant a lot of sitting around and waiting, but that’s nothing new.

Mum and Dad got to The Clinic twenty minutes early, so I drove over at 8:45 to meet with them. I think we were all pretty excited, and we had a marvelous chat about everything except the transfer, which included a lot of laughter – a trait I will never fail to undervalue in them. They hung out in the waiting room while I got prepped and had a lady come in and basically touch my ears, wrists, legs, feet and belly while her magical laser machine beeped rather persistently at us. I guess it was supposed to relax me, but I didn’t feel any involuntary reactions to the treatment. I didn’t want her to feel bad, though, so I relaxed my body bit by bit on purpose.

Unlike the first IVF Clinic, I got to stay in my own private little room for the whole shebang. The IVF Doctor, Nurse and Embryologist all came to me, as did the embryos themselves. I got to watch the Embryologist check the embryos on a monitor above the case for his equipment, all the while chatting Mum and Dad up about whether they wanted twins or a singleton, the patterns I’ve noticed in my IVF transfers and successful pregnancies, et cetera. They’re pretty well lined-up, pattern-wise this time. I don’t think their munchkin will need much in the way of auspicious dates for transfer or anything like that. Not like Wiggle-Worm and Tempest did. After the transfer I got poked with the laser pen again and pretended to relax my muscles for the acupuncturist, then laid around in my little room for about twenty minutes. The nurse told me, as she gave me my post-transfer instructions, that because these were day-six embryos, implantation should occur within two days.

Mum and Dad took me out to lunch after I was given leave to head out (but not home; only to my hotel), and we talked a little more about baby stuff. I got a text from Hubs while we were waiting in line, though, saying that his uncle had died. He had liver cancer, and didn’t respond well to chemotherapy. If I believed in reincarnation, I’d say that the timing was auspicious in its own way.

After lunch, Mum and Dad headed home and I scuttled down the sidewalk to a local health food store to peruse for afternoon snacks. They made me a tasty berry-and-banana-and-protein shake with almond milk, and I found some organic prenatal vitamins that are supposed to not make me queasier than I normally get during the first trimester. So far their boast has proven valid. The only real suck-point of the weekend was not being able to work out after my progesterone shots. No wonder women complain about those things! Without exercise, the muscle gets SO FREAKING SORE! I tried taking Tylenol to ease it, but I might as well not bother. And I’m not allowed to elevate my heart rate or core temperature till at least after the pregnancy test next week. I never thought I’d say I MISS exercise.

Speaking of progesterone shots, I learned a valuable lesson last night: Always check to make sure that the syringe cap (not to be confused with the protective needle cover) is properly screwed onto the syringe, even though it came in sterile packaging from the manufacturer! With these syringes, the needle is attached to a plastic cap that screws onto the cylinder of the syringe, where the liquid goes. Well, last night I got the needle into my “glutes” as usual, and began pushing the plunger in to inject the progesterone into the muscle, and the cylinder popped right off the cap, leaving the needle in the upper part of my butt-cheek and the cap sort of hanging out a little way above my skin. (You can laugh. It was funny.) I had no idea how much of the medication had made its way into my body though, so I had to call The Clinic and ask them what to do. Long story short, it wasn’t a big deal, but I had to give a second shot. I am so very sore today! (Still funny, go ahead and laugh.)

OH! So as I said: The Nurse at The IVF Clinic told me that the embryo should implant within two days of transfer. Yesterday morning I was sitting in the Hotel’s restaurant eating breakfast, and suddenly I got a hot flash and had NO further interest in my scrambled eggs and roasted potatoes. Mind you, I LOVE eggs and potatoes, so I feel like this was pretty telling. The queasiness eventually subsided, but it happened again this morning. And CatButt (yes, that’s my cat’s actual given name. It was the only name to which he would answer as a kitten) has been very sniff-y and clingy since I got home yesterday. Normally he comes running to be held for a minute when I get home, even from a long trip, then runs off and just kind of “checks in” off and on till bedtime, at which point he’ll settle down at least a foot away from me. Yesterday he shadowed me from the moment I got home until bed (with the exception of a quick jaunt to the store, and Pooka’s basketball game, obviously) and curled up right next to me, making sure he was touching me until Hubs came home from work at midnight.

Between the queasiness and CatButt, I’m thinking I might be pregnant. We’ll get medical confirmation a week from today, though.

The Moral of the Story

The progesterone shot is definitely big. And scary looking. It took me three hours and a small crying fit to drum up the courage to do it by myself. Let’s be clear here: I’m not afraid of any needle, when someone else is wielding it. And I’m not afraid of small insulin-type syringes. But Hubs was at work and Pooka IS afraid of needles, so I had to give my first shot without assistance.

I was able to draw the shot with little trepidation – and holy crepe, is it thick! Lupron is a liquid, so pulling back the plunger on the syringe is easy. Progesterone in oil is just that – oil. It has to be drawn back very slowly to get the full CC into the chamber of the syringe, and tapped to get the air bubbles out. Anyway, I drew up the shot and panicked. Sat down on my bed and cried for about ten minutes.

I had read numerous articles and blog posts online, where surrogates and moms-by-IVF alike said that the progesterone shots hurt like hell once the oil was in their muscles. I’ve got a pretty significant tolerance level for pain, so I didn’t think much of it, as I had read that the Lupron shots hurt too. Burning, soreness, et cetera were the common complaints. Then I read an article that suggested that exercising immediately after the shot was given, would get the oil absorbed more quickly and relieve the soreness generally associated with pumping a bunch of fluid into a localized hunk of muscle.

I started my regularly-scheduled HIIT body-weight workout, thinking that perhaps if I got some endorphins flowing it might help me dredge up the nerve to do the shot. It worked. After my first round of Betty Rocker’s MakeFatCry Week One workout, I paused my timer, took a breath and did the injection. I barely felt the needle at all. It did get sore for a second, but I started right back into the workout and by the end of it, I felt no difference at the injection site than I ever did before the shots.

The moral of the story is, ladies and gents: Workouts are always good for you! And so is a healthy, clean diet. Since the beginning of October, this Preggosaurus has lost nine inches off her waist thanks to the aforementioned Betty Rocker and her various and incredibly helpful programs. (Shush. I can plug whomever I want. It’s my blog. Haha!)

Holy Medications, Batman!

BWAHAHAHAHA! I am now up to 5 medications to prep for the embryo transfer on Sunday:
- Estradiol: 2 pills, twice a day
- Vivelle: 1 patch, changed every 3rd day
- Progesterone in Oil: 1CC intramuscular injection, once a day
- Doxycycline: 1 pill, twice a day
- Methylprednisolone: 1 pill, once a day

Saturday night I take one application of Metronizadole, then Sunday I go in between 6:00 and 7:00 am for bloodwork and a final pre-transfer ultrasound. On my way out, I'll be given another application of progesterone and sent back to my hotel. I'll get a call around 11:00 am to inform me at what time the embryo transfer will occur. I'll be expected in around noon for transfer between 1:00 and 2:00 pm.

SO much more than I did with the old IVF Clinic! WHEW!

Bring on The Babies: The Uber-Ute Rides Again!

“Ladies and gentlebeans!” (My very first friend in school used to say this when we would play Circus and make his little brother and sister be our circus animals.) Please excuse me in advance: I am unaccustomed to chocolate these days, and I had half a bar of honey-sweetened dark chocolate. My brain is vibrating. I downed some tofu to keep me from crashing too badly later, but I’m pretty sure it won’t bring me down off the chocolate high. I’m pretty sure I’m about to start seeing through time, any second.

ANYWAY: Great morning this morning. I got to sleep in and get extra snuggles before I lumbered out of bed and shuffled through the house to brush my teeth and wash my face. While I did this, Hubs went outside to brush off and start the car for me, so it would be nice and warm when I was ready to leave for The Big Hospital. The drive went well; the roads were dry, so the violent gusts of wind on the interstate were manageable.

I actually got to have my blood drawn in the GYN clinic instead of having to go downstairs to the lab and wait in an hour-plus line for a two-minute procedure. I appreciated that, let me tell you! I only had to wait a couple minutes after my blood draw to be called in for ultrasound, too. The doctor was stuck at JFK airport, so another sonography “fellow” came in to check the lining of my uterus. I asked the nurse, “If I get (Unchaperoned Fellow) today, he’ll be chaperoned this time, right?” I told the nurse I was fine with him, as long as he followed the appropriate procedure. They didn’t send him in. Haha! Instead I got a very nice, if a bit terse, young lady.

Ladies and Gentlebeans, in the words of my dear friend BAMF: Bring on the Babies! The Über-Ute Rides Again! The minimum thickness of uterine lining for embryo transfer is eight millimeters. Mine’s at ten! HUZZAH!

I’m still waiting to hear on a date for the transfer, but based on what’s been said before, I’m guessing it will happen on Sunday (January 12), if not earlier! I’ll update this post again once I’ve heard for sure.

UPDATE: I have confirmation that I will indeed be getting knocked up on Sunday afternoon! WOO HOO!
Now to drum up the nerve to do my enormous progesterone shot! EEP!