Sunday, January 27, 2008


Wow, people, what a weekend. My husband was out of town from Weds. until midnight last night, and came down with a fever yesterday. Much angst and medicating occurred; little napping, eating, or felicity took place. Doctors were called, etc. I woke up throughout the night and probably slept three hours total in 45-minute chunks. Good times.

Today, wasn't 100%, and the snot in his nose was keeping him from drinking very well, but he was better. Still, we had a few stretches of inconsolable crying that I totally remember well from my own days as a sick child. But late in the day, after another shot of ibupr.ofen, he was exhibiting good cheer. And, in the course of about three minutes, several advances were made in the baby universe.

Before I describe them, let me say that so far has not done anything early except smile and laugh. He's behind on pretty much everything else except grabbing, which he must be an expert at. Now, I think he's pretty awesome, but I do have those moments when I run into another kid his age (or younger) who can do shit like say, "Da" back to you when you say it, and I think, "Hey, - check that out, yo!" will say things like that but then just stare at you when you reply. And he's not crawling or pulling up or doing the electric slide or anything. So I was beginning to accept the fact that he would go far in life, but only because he's one of those people who charms you by laughing at whatever you say. God, I love those people.

Well, tonight, he pulled several things together. First, he intentionally began stacking his Me.lissa & Dou.g rainbow stacker, which claims it's 18 months and up. He didn't stack things in the right order, but it was well done. He also put a toy into the mailbox of the he got because Statia's son likes it, and I felt that copying her would be a good call. He then tried to put the cap onto his bottle. Next, he successfully got from his stomach to a seated position for the first time. Finally, he crawled backwards a little bit.

I think maybe he was putting on a show for me since I'm leaving tomorrow for a week. Rainy, cold California awaits me. I will miss that little genius.

Saturday, January 26, 2008


So I had my appointment at the RE on Thursday. A few things had changed. First, they'd moved the clinic, along with the regular OB clinic and the specialty clinics (where they treat your gynecologic cancer and/or repair your hoo-ha after childbirth), to a fancy new wing of the already-sprawling hospital. The downside to this merger and relocation is that everyone checks in at the same place, so the infertile are subjected to seeing the heavily pregnant, which didn't happen in the old place, which was on an entirely different floor from the regular clinic. Once you check in, though, you are sent to a different waiting room, which is clearly the infertile ghetto. That said, I actually felt HAPPY to go in there. What the fuck? I was glad to pass the teeming fertile masses in waiting rooms 1 and 2 and step into the warm confines of waiting room 3, where no one was pregnant but everyone had that look on their face that said they were ready for some gallows humor. Or maybe I was projecting. One other change I noticed was that the Go.lden Girls was not playing on the television. Instead, it was on ABC Fa.mily or some such nonsense. I kind of missed Dorothy, Blanche, Sophia, et al.

I was greeted by a nurse I recognized from the old clinic as being a half-wit. Not promising. She said I'd meet with one of the staff doctors that day, either the head of the department or the RE who was pregnant when I had my FET. In the meantime, I saw a physician's assistant who took my history, listened to my well-thought-out requests, and tried to say that she'd bring this up at their weekly meeting. When I insisted upon seeing one of the staff REs, I could tell she was insulted. Well, maybe she should go get her MD and not have to deal with the elitist prejudices of people like me. Really, she seemed quite knowledgeable, but if I am going to schlep my ass into the RE's office, I want to see someone who makes more money than I do.

So the formerly pregnant RE came in, and I will say this about her: she looked very, very tired. I took some solace in that. It then turned out that she is PREGNANT AGAIN and due in early April. And, um, I couldn't tell. Like, I wouldn't have known she was, like, seven months' pregnant, except that she was saying she'd be on maternity leave beginning at the start of April or even earlier. She's tall. Anyway, the deal is that it's pretty easy to schedule an FET, so I just need to decide when to do it. This means I either need to pull the trigger and do one soon or wait until she comes back from leave (since she's the one with the magic ET touch on my crazy cervix). As an aside, I thought it was interesting that they let you schedule ET with a particular RE, because they never let you schedule anything with a particular one otherwise - you just get whoever is on duty that day. But she acknowledged that there might be something voodooish about ET, and they were willing to indulge that.

If I aim for an FET right when she gets back in June, however, and if the damned thing worked, then I would miss my 15th college reunion. I don't want to do that, so I might push it out a bit. But I realize that these sorts of attempts at managing my fate are destined to end poorly, and then I will wish I had just jumped back on the IVF train so that I could be plunging back into fresh cycles or moving onto adoption or buying a my fake baby. So we will see.

On Monday, I am going out of town for an entire week. It is really too painful to imagine being away from for so long. But the stars aligned, and it makes sense for me to combine a couple of intended trips into one long one.

Finally, in case you're dying to know, my sleep has improved over time a great deal. I still wake up frequently, but I'm pretty good at getting back to sleep now, even if I wake up within an hour before my alarm goes off. Phew!

Friday, January 18, 2008

Tough times

Please drop by Mary Ellen's blog and send your support to her. After all she and Steve have been through, this sort of thing should not be happening.

Beth is back blogging again, which is great, but it sounds as if she has had a really rough go of it since enduring both infertility and hideous HG, which has had lasting effects.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Thank you, I'll be oversharing here all week.

I was in New York late last week for work. While I was there, I met up with two former colleagues, one of whom was later (ie, after that job, not later that night) my boyfriend. Of all of my boyfriends, this was definitely my biggest heartbreak. We sort of keep in touch - like we email maybe once a year and occasionally see each other at a mutual friend's event or similar. Although my romantic feelings for him dissipated eons ago, I have generally still felt a need to be on my best behavior in front of him, by which I mean I have felt the need to be clever, witty, well-read, confident, up to date on current events, nicely dressed, smokin' hot, young-looking, wise beyond my years, and also perfect. Ever felt that way? Anyway, I give you this as context for what follows.

At one point during our gathering, the other former colleague excused himself to the bathroom. Somehow, in the three minutes this guy was gone, the following conversation ensued. I think it may have been when we were talking about mutual friends and how many kids they'd had.

Ex-BF: You know, I know a couple of people who had problems getting pregnant and then they adopted and got pregnant.
Me: There's no scientific evidence for that.
Ex-BF: No, really, I know two people it happened to.
Me: [possibly spewing wine while speaking] Really, it's just anecdotal evidence.
Ex-BF: [looks at me with odd expression]
Me: [speaking at triple normal speed and twice normal volume] I don't know if you know this, but we had to do IVF, and this is one of the most annoying things people can possibly say to you! That and "just adopt!" There's no "just" in adopting! It's very complicated! And, I mean, people who aren't infertile are also making a choice, and they never have to justify it to everyone else!
Ex-BF: Um. [stares at margarita glass]
Me: Oh, uh, sorry.
[Other friend returns. Conversation resumes more socially acceptable trajectory.]

I'm sure my ex-boyfriend probably felt compelled to discuss this with our other friend later, however. So much for that good impression I hoped to leave.

In other news, I made an appointment for next week at the RE clinic. First, my endometriosis seems to be back since I spend about 15 days a month feeling as if a mace is rotating in my pelvis. This pain is only alleviated by booze, and, you know, that sort of coping mechanism doesn't usually end well.

Second, given my advanced maternal age, I am going to see about the game plan for number two, if such an inquiry is not so hubristic as to be shot down by the gods just for having verbalized it. I am going to go in with my suggested plan and see if the doctors acknowledge my genius and sign off on it.

We have seven frozen embryos. I bet one is good. My suggested plan is based on two assumptions: (1) I'm not fucking around with anything except blastocysts, and (2) I only want to transfer one embryo. So I am going to recommend trying one FET cycle in the spring in which we thaw and culture four embryos. If none makes it to blastocyst, too bad. Okay, maybe I'd transfer a morula, but otherwise we'd do another FET cycle and thaw the remaining three. If that fails, we will reassess, though I am not crazy about doing another fresh cycle, even though I think I still have some insurance coverage and I do think fondly about that twilight anesthesia you get during retrieval. I am also curious about doing a natural FET cycle but will probably be convinced to do a medicated one since it worked before.

Any cycle must take place after February 26, when I have a baseline mammogram scheduled. Now, do I feel ready to possibly have another kid? Not at all! But I'm old and time is of the essence, and I'm kind of a get-it-over-with type of person. Besides, success is far from assured, so there's not any point in ruminating on those kinds of what-ifs.