My follicles were deemed 'not great' and 'a bit small' this morning. Hopefully trigger on Monday. Favorite nurse showed me in to the room and promised I would see a doctor. Technician showed up for the ultrasound, assured me there was no way I would see a doctor today because "they're busy." I then tried to ask her about the diet and she told me that it's impossible to do this diet without eating meat (I do eat meat, just not a lot, and I haven't been able to force myself to eat more). Well, since I've been doing it for the past month that's not really the most helpful comment. And I knew that I needed to talk to the doctor when she suggested I reintroduce caffeine into my diet to help with the hunger. I haven't yet read the study about caffeine and miscarriage, but the evidence that it plays with insulin has been out for years.
Let me assure you, there is no possible way I'm going through a full cycle without seeing a doctor face to face. No way. I threw a loud temper tantrum, and they finally agree to squeeze me into the schedule, so it's 9:20 am, just got home, and I'll be back at 11 am to see my doctor for the first time in 2 months. Or rather, to join the large crowd in the waiting room again. The irony of choosing a clinic because you like a doctor never to see or hear from him again.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Sometimes the world revolves around my ovaries
So there was no four hour layover. The East Coast had some 'weather' over the past few days and it botched a large number of flights. I arrived in plenty of time for my flight (this is not always the case) and checked in, only to discover it was rather delayed. Not so much delayed that I would miss my 7 pm connection, by any means. But as a frequent flier, I usually go try to make a back-up plan for my travels when there are lots of delays. Well turns out due to a certain very large sporting event near JD (rednecks and cars) there was not a single open seat on a flight if I missed my connection. So I went to the gate and tried to get on the earlier flight to my layover, only to discover it was full and even the stand-by list was full. So I went back to the 'special services' area and explained to the woman that I absolutely have to be in by 8 am tomorrow morning. And she told me that my original flight was a mechanical error and the plane hadn't left its original destination, so even though the delay wasn't so bad, I shouldn't count on that plane. At that point I really started to worry. She very nicely asked what I needed to be in by 8 am for, and although I really wanted to shout "I might be ovulating!" I politely went with "Surgery, at 8 am, that couldn't be rescheduled for a full month." And I really think that she gave me a knowing look because she proceeded to book me on the sold-out earlier flight in a seat reserved for flight attendants and pilots moving between airports. Other people save their old pee-sticks, I'm saving this ticket stub for a reserved, non-available seat.
So here I am, slightly feverish from an unmedicated sinus infection, hungry, and feeling exceedingly lucky.
So here I am, slightly feverish from an unmedicated sinus infection, hungry, and feeling exceedingly lucky.
the things we do
I fly a lot. I love to fly. I love airplanes, I'm ok with airports. I don't enjoy it nearly as much under the following conditions:
a. weather delays
b. no sudafed (and I have the most awful cold at the moment)
c. not being able to buy so much as a coffee during my 4 hour layover ... I just packed 4 hard-boiled eggs, one chunk of no-carb cheese, 2 packets of nuts (pecans and cashews), a bag of sunflower seeds, and for a naughty treat, a tiny container of blueberries. Hope that lasts till 9 pm.
And of course, after a 1/2 day in transit, best to arrive completely and totally in the mood just in case I'm ovulating early.
a. weather delays
b. no sudafed (and I have the most awful cold at the moment)
c. not being able to buy so much as a coffee during my 4 hour layover ... I just packed 4 hard-boiled eggs, one chunk of no-carb cheese, 2 packets of nuts (pecans and cashews), a bag of sunflower seeds, and for a naughty treat, a tiny container of blueberries. Hope that lasts till 9 pm.
And of course, after a 1/2 day in transit, best to arrive completely and totally in the mood just in case I'm ovulating early.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
such bliss
My good friend just brought her 11 day old baby over to my apartment to visit. I've never had problems with babies (pregnant women, different matter) but then we haven't been TTC for that long. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about this visit (especially after reading so many blogs) but wow, beautiful, tiny healthy baby. It's probably an awful admission, but it really reminded me that all these drugs and appointments and the awful diet really are going to be worth it. For all that I love 'the internets' it's also good to get a reminder that everything just goes well for some people. She looks great, the baby is healthy, she left the hospital within 12 hours, no problems sleeping/feeding and she looked relaxed (mind you, not a first baby and the father is home on family leave for a full month, but still). She is a bit of a superwoman: wanted to give birth in a birthing center, they didn't have a room when she showed up, offered her the regular hospital but also told her she could come back in a few hours and the woman, in full labor, went out to dinner with her partner and waited till they had a room ...
Less positive news: the baby boom in my program is much, much larger than I thought. I have 2 close friends who are pregnant and one who is adopting, hopefully this month. I thought there was one more. Nope, 5 more. One of whom I ran into on the street yesterday when she was -8 months pregnant- and I didn't notice. Good for me (this is a rather large woman, so it's not entirely my obliviousness, but still, 8 months?).
But not to end on a sour note, I'm down to my goal weight: 135. Or at least, according to the magical scale, which has a tendency to show incredible overnight weight loss. I guess I'll find out at my 8 am appointment Friday. If only I could start eating real food again. My friend, who has been nothing but supportive of our IF, pointed out the doctor will probably try to keep me on this diet for at least the first trimester ... Let's hope we have some follicles Friday.
Less positive news: the baby boom in my program is much, much larger than I thought. I have 2 close friends who are pregnant and one who is adopting, hopefully this month. I thought there was one more. Nope, 5 more. One of whom I ran into on the street yesterday when she was -8 months pregnant- and I didn't notice. Good for me (this is a rather large woman, so it's not entirely my obliviousness, but still, 8 months?).
But not to end on a sour note, I'm down to my goal weight: 135. Or at least, according to the magical scale, which has a tendency to show incredible overnight weight loss. I guess I'll find out at my 8 am appointment Friday. If only I could start eating real food again. My friend, who has been nothing but supportive of our IF, pointed out the doctor will probably try to keep me on this diet for at least the first trimester ... Let's hope we have some follicles Friday.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Blame those self-centered women
I am far more understanding when poorer, less responsible newspapers have awful articles, but the NYT's? Sample 1: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/11/nyregion/11bigcity.html?ref=health (linked on the 'city' page and the 'health' page). The idea is interesting: what will the surge in IVF twins mean socially in the long term. The article: infuriating. First, it provides no really useful data on how many of the twin boon are from IVF. Plenty of other IF treatments also increase the chance of twins. I thought that it would take the trite but potentially feasible conclusion that medical technology will improve, so there will be less twins. Instead, it's straight back to blame those women with lines like: "Surely, women in their 20s today better understand that their fertility really will wane in their mid-30s ..." A few objections:
a. The high-paying jobs need to adjust to allow women to have children in their mid-20s. It's not pure self-centered indulgence that encourages women to pursue an education and career, there's that whole responsibility thing. I wouldn't chose to have a child I couldn't support on my own, should that be necessary.
b. Guys don't want to have kids in their mid-2os. Unless we really want to endorse a system where women marry men 10+ years older (and somehow battle all the potential power differentials that may result), someone needs to start nagging the men, not the women. For most of the couples I know, it's been the man who has stalled for a few years after they started the baby talk.
c. Stop making stupid comparison to Europe! Yes, they use less eggs in IVF, and they have much lower success rates. Also, since insurance covers IVF the government gets to decide who is eligible (in some countries, that means out with the single women, lesbians, anyone over 40, and the UK has been debating ousting women with a BMI above normal - so no more fat mothers either). IF treatments in Europe are generally viewed as much less of a right than here, and far fewer women have access to them. So, yes, they may have fewer twins but they also have less babies total.
Stupid articles in generally good newspapers are so annoying. Including Atl.antic Month.ly's anti-feminist cover article about settling for whatever guy you can find ... Not only does it basically argue that because men make money, women need them (yes, nothing like completely taking for granted a system with a humongous wage gender gap) but it lauds things like the divorce mother who at least has her child support and "a free night off when the kids go to Dad’s house for a sleepover." (Yes, so many divorced women think of split custody as free babysitting ...). I also love the approval of the idea that couples don't actually spend much time together, so it doesn't matter if they get along (great for the kids, eh?) And it ends with this entirely circular logic that as a single mother by choice she now can't settle because her son deserves a decent father, but of course if she had settled in her 30s and produced a biological child with a man she disliked all would be swell for that kid ... another article that is going to be way overplayed.
a. The high-paying jobs need to adjust to allow women to have children in their mid-20s. It's not pure self-centered indulgence that encourages women to pursue an education and career, there's that whole responsibility thing. I wouldn't chose to have a child I couldn't support on my own, should that be necessary.
b. Guys don't want to have kids in their mid-2os. Unless we really want to endorse a system where women marry men 10+ years older (and somehow battle all the potential power differentials that may result), someone needs to start nagging the men, not the women. For most of the couples I know, it's been the man who has stalled for a few years after they started the baby talk.
c. Stop making stupid comparison to Europe! Yes, they use less eggs in IVF, and they have much lower success rates. Also, since insurance covers IVF the government gets to decide who is eligible (in some countries, that means out with the single women, lesbians, anyone over 40, and the UK has been debating ousting women with a BMI above normal - so no more fat mothers either). IF treatments in Europe are generally viewed as much less of a right than here, and far fewer women have access to them. So, yes, they may have fewer twins but they also have less babies total.
Stupid articles in generally good newspapers are so annoying. Including Atl.antic Month.ly's anti-feminist cover article about settling for whatever guy you can find ... Not only does it basically argue that because men make money, women need them (yes, nothing like completely taking for granted a system with a humongous wage gender gap) but it lauds things like the divorce mother who at least has her child support and "a free night off when the kids go to Dad’s house for a sleepover." (Yes, so many divorced women think of split custody as free babysitting ...). I also love the approval of the idea that couples don't actually spend much time together, so it doesn't matter if they get along (great for the kids, eh?) And it ends with this entirely circular logic that as a single mother by choice she now can't settle because her son deserves a decent father, but of course if she had settled in her 30s and produced a biological child with a man she disliked all would be swell for that kid ... another article that is going to be way overplayed.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Sometimes I worry I'm a bit delusional
But first the good news: back into my 30s. I weighed 138 this morning, down from somewhere above 145. Of course, I'm also newly skeptical of my scale since I went to bed weighing 143 and find that a totally improbable weight loss overnight. But my scale has not been in the 130s for the past 2 years, so this can't be exclusively a technical fluke. Conclusion: I have lost some quantity of weight, possibly close to 5 pounds. Half way to my destination.
So, this afternoon I met up with my future in-laws for lunch. There is a bit of background, but the long and short is that I have a beautiful (cream) wedding dress which -is- skin-tight on the stomach but could be altered to allow a bump. However, my MIL wants me to also have a shiny, bright red skin-tight traditional-Chinese wedding dress. Every time she has offered in the past Jim Dear has staled because he doesn't want me to have a dress custom made which I might not fit into. I do see his point here, but it turns out that since graciously accepting gifts is one of my strengths, I find it hard to decline presents. When she offered yet again today (while out shopping in Chinatown), I accepted. And here's the delusional part: I had somehow completely forgotten all of JD's objections to this purchase until I heard my MIL explain to the tailor that I only planned to lose another 5-10 pounds (her words, not mine) so he shouldn't make the dress to small. And then, like a light bulb, I suddenly remembered that I was trying to get myself into a state to gain a tremendous amount of weight. And this dress is cut from a single piece and would not be in any way easy to alter or drape a shawl over or such. Oops. But the way I see it, either I get a beautiful red dress or I get incredible news, so neither outcome would be entirely disastrous.
Intriguingly, I'm not sure how much my MIL knows about our current 'secret activities.' I know that JD talked to her in the past about my IF and I know that she knows that we want kids ASAP, but she seemed to be talking around it at lunch. She said something about how difficult it would be if we moved to come help in the evenings 'when we need help.' And then she asked me explicitly if I would commute by car next January 'if I had a baby' but then didn't mention it again. If she's thinking grandchild by next January, you'd think she'd have done the math. I'd be happy to talk to her about our IF, but I think that's best left to her son (we still have some language barriers). And everything she's said has been supportive. I'm really just wondering if she knows that we've started treatment or not.
If you've read this far, you have far more patience than I would have. Sorry for the convoluted stories, my life happens to be a bit messy at the moment. But a little good news. A friend had a baby a week ago and since I'm leaving for more RE appointments on Thursday, I figured that I wouldn't get to see the baby until she's at least 3-4 weeks old, which is a bit sad. But my friend, who happens to be a bit of a superwoman (granted, this is not her first child) sent me an e-mail to ask when 'she could drop by' with the baby this week. I'm so excited.
So, this afternoon I met up with my future in-laws for lunch. There is a bit of background, but the long and short is that I have a beautiful (cream) wedding dress which -is- skin-tight on the stomach but could be altered to allow a bump. However, my MIL wants me to also have a shiny, bright red skin-tight traditional-Chinese wedding dress. Every time she has offered in the past Jim Dear has staled because he doesn't want me to have a dress custom made which I might not fit into. I do see his point here, but it turns out that since graciously accepting gifts is one of my strengths, I find it hard to decline presents. When she offered yet again today (while out shopping in Chinatown), I accepted. And here's the delusional part: I had somehow completely forgotten all of JD's objections to this purchase until I heard my MIL explain to the tailor that I only planned to lose another 5-10 pounds (her words, not mine) so he shouldn't make the dress to small. And then, like a light bulb, I suddenly remembered that I was trying to get myself into a state to gain a tremendous amount of weight. And this dress is cut from a single piece and would not be in any way easy to alter or drape a shawl over or such. Oops. But the way I see it, either I get a beautiful red dress or I get incredible news, so neither outcome would be entirely disastrous.
Intriguingly, I'm not sure how much my MIL knows about our current 'secret activities.' I know that JD talked to her in the past about my IF and I know that she knows that we want kids ASAP, but she seemed to be talking around it at lunch. She said something about how difficult it would be if we moved to come help in the evenings 'when we need help.' And then she asked me explicitly if I would commute by car next January 'if I had a baby' but then didn't mention it again. If she's thinking grandchild by next January, you'd think she'd have done the math. I'd be happy to talk to her about our IF, but I think that's best left to her son (we still have some language barriers). And everything she's said has been supportive. I'm really just wondering if she knows that we've started treatment or not.
If you've read this far, you have far more patience than I would have. Sorry for the convoluted stories, my life happens to be a bit messy at the moment. But a little good news. A friend had a baby a week ago and since I'm leaving for more RE appointments on Thursday, I figured that I wouldn't get to see the baby until she's at least 3-4 weeks old, which is a bit sad. But my friend, who happens to be a bit of a superwoman (granted, this is not her first child) sent me an e-mail to ask when 'she could drop by' with the baby this week. I'm so excited.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
pill poppin' day
I'm starting to get the feeling from 'the internets' that my current protocol is not the standard, most cautious procedure, but I took all my le.tro.zole tonight. And tried to think positive thoughts. I have a party to go to about an hour away, but seriously considering staying in tonight (by which I mean I've been in my pajamas since 4 pm).
It's days like today when I really wished we lived together. Jim Dear has been happy to delegate all the details of our treatment to me (something I'm not always thrilled about), but I'm sure if I told him that these meds were awful and miserable, I'd get a long massage and probably dinner in bed. Oh, and he could go out in the rain and rent a movie.
I had hoped to have good news on the diet, but not quite there yet. I started at around 145 and I was hoping to be back in the 130s after 3 weeks of hunger, but not quite. The scale's stuck on 140. Oh well. Here's to gaining it all back soon.
There seems to be a trope of bloggers whose partners object to their reading some many blogs and becoming too engrossed in other people's struggles. Mine certainly does, and wasn't too thrilled about my blog, although he finally agreed it was fine without photos or my real name. But there is something so nice about forgetting about the IF occasionally. Yesterday night I landed up at dinner next to the wife of a graduate student from another school. This is often a recipe for disaster, as you don't have much to say. But we were having a very nice conversation about the challenges of dual careers, and she asked about kids. And maybe it was the fact that this restaurant happened to have a salad I could eat, and I'd decided to splurge and consume my fish for the month (oh, eating makes me so happy when it includes forbidden foods), but I smiled and said that we wanted kids. She of course asked when, and how we'd fit that into our careers. And I just smiled and said as soon as possible (like, uh, maybe conception around next Thursday night or Friday morning would be perfect, but anyway) and that we'd figure it out. And because she doesn't know about our treatments, I didn't have to justify our decision to do IF treatments or talk about it all. And the conversation actually made me feel good. Because this is a normal thing to do, and the frustration and drugs will all be a distant memory someday if it works.
It's days like today when I really wished we lived together. Jim Dear has been happy to delegate all the details of our treatment to me (something I'm not always thrilled about), but I'm sure if I told him that these meds were awful and miserable, I'd get a long massage and probably dinner in bed. Oh, and he could go out in the rain and rent a movie.
I had hoped to have good news on the diet, but not quite there yet. I started at around 145 and I was hoping to be back in the 130s after 3 weeks of hunger, but not quite. The scale's stuck on 140. Oh well. Here's to gaining it all back soon.
There seems to be a trope of bloggers whose partners object to their reading some many blogs and becoming too engrossed in other people's struggles. Mine certainly does, and wasn't too thrilled about my blog, although he finally agreed it was fine without photos or my real name. But there is something so nice about forgetting about the IF occasionally. Yesterday night I landed up at dinner next to the wife of a graduate student from another school. This is often a recipe for disaster, as you don't have much to say. But we were having a very nice conversation about the challenges of dual careers, and she asked about kids. And maybe it was the fact that this restaurant happened to have a salad I could eat, and I'd decided to splurge and consume my fish for the month (oh, eating makes me so happy when it includes forbidden foods), but I smiled and said that we wanted kids. She of course asked when, and how we'd fit that into our careers. And I just smiled and said as soon as possible (like, uh, maybe conception around next Thursday night or Friday morning would be perfect, but anyway) and that we'd figure it out. And because she doesn't know about our treatments, I didn't have to justify our decision to do IF treatments or talk about it all. And the conversation actually made me feel good. Because this is a normal thing to do, and the frustration and drugs will all be a distant memory someday if it works.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)