I occasionally dip into a pregnancy message board these days (though I really feel comfortable only on IF boards), and I have noticed that people are always asking how they can prevent stretch marks - like whether certain creams work, whether diet makes a difference, etc. I consulted What to Expect When You're Expecting on this topic, and it says that it's either genetics or the result of being well hydrated and having a good diet.
In my opinion, this is a load of hooey - I think it's all genetics. And I will tell you why - I am the best hydrated person I know, and I already have a shitload of stretch marks. I have them on my hips. I have them on my arms. I have them on my inner thighs and my buttocks and my boobs and my biceps. I may have them in places that I can't see. My body looks like a bobcat swiped it in multiple locations decades ago. In reality, they were all the result of a rather drastic growth spurt (seven inches of height in five months) when I was in the 12/13 age range. I remember noticing them in my mid-teens and asking my doctor, and he advised me of the proper terminology.
So if I am lucky enough to continue with this pregnancy until the end, then I know I will have a few more to add to the collection. (After all, I need some for my stomach.) For those of you who might be incredibly worried about this (oh, wait - only a fertile would worry about something like this), I am here to tell you that they do fade away to silvery streaks that are barely noticeable. And you could always claim you got them while wrestling a hungry bobcat away from a freshly born litter of puppies.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Backlog (or: the TMI post)
You don't realize it yet, but the title of this post is a revolting pun.
Yes, I'm here to talk about constipation. Now, I should lead off by saying that, in my normal life, I am blessed with regularity. Enviable regularity. Regularity on long trips across time zones, regularity whether I'm eating All Bran or baguettes and cheese, regularity that comes from having just the right amount of a nervous stomach. I have no problem shitting in the woods or in the stall of a busy restroom at work; it takes no time at all. Usually, I can just think about taking a crap, and that's enough to make it happen.
I realize that this is the digestive equivalent of "My husband just has to look at me and I get pregnant." And having had several friends who suffered from major intestinal slowdowns, I realize that I have been lucky to be such an insouciant crapper.
Clearly, I knew that women are often afflicted with constipation when they're pregnant. And I read the "side effects" on the Z0fran insert (as well as many comments on hyperemesis message boards) and saw that constipation is the most commonly cited one. But I also kind of thought, (a) this won't happen to me, at least not to that extent, since shitting is one of my core competencies and (b) even if it does happen, how bad can it be?
You see, I thought of constipation as maybe feeling pretty stopped up and bloated - not a pleasant state, but one that would be relieved from time to time by a stool softener or twenty. You know, you'd clear out the pipes, then maybe experience some issues again, etc. - it'd end up as a sort of cycle.
Ahem. What I did not realize is that constipation makes it almost impossible to shit, even when you feel the urge to, and that this state is incredibly painful. I can't tell you how much time I am now spending on the toilet, straining with all my might to emit one tiny lump of coal. I only take shits at home now, since I often have to yell out in the manner of Martina Hingis. And I think the main consequence of my efforts is going to be hemorrhoids and varicose veins in my ass.
This, by the way, is on two Co*lace a day. At the recommendation of Beth and one of my online buddies, I called my clinic to ask for Mira.lax. The nurse said she had to ask the doctor, and, as luck would have it, she asked the one doctor (out of seven) with whom I have had a bad experience. He said no to the Mira.lax. Instead, the nurse said he suggested drinking more water or taking Meta.mucil. When I stopped laughing hysterically, I asked whether there was anything else I could do. She suggested high-fiber cereal. Once I again regained my composure, I pressed further. Finally, they gave me permission to use Dulco.lax suppositories, which I plan to attempt later today. I'm hoping this can clear things out and give the Co.lace more of a shot at working.
Yes, I'm here to talk about constipation. Now, I should lead off by saying that, in my normal life, I am blessed with regularity. Enviable regularity. Regularity on long trips across time zones, regularity whether I'm eating All Bran or baguettes and cheese, regularity that comes from having just the right amount of a nervous stomach. I have no problem shitting in the woods or in the stall of a busy restroom at work; it takes no time at all. Usually, I can just think about taking a crap, and that's enough to make it happen.
I realize that this is the digestive equivalent of "My husband just has to look at me and I get pregnant." And having had several friends who suffered from major intestinal slowdowns, I realize that I have been lucky to be such an insouciant crapper.
Clearly, I knew that women are often afflicted with constipation when they're pregnant. And I read the "side effects" on the Z0fran insert (as well as many comments on hyperemesis message boards) and saw that constipation is the most commonly cited one. But I also kind of thought, (a) this won't happen to me, at least not to that extent, since shitting is one of my core competencies and (b) even if it does happen, how bad can it be?
You see, I thought of constipation as maybe feeling pretty stopped up and bloated - not a pleasant state, but one that would be relieved from time to time by a stool softener or twenty. You know, you'd clear out the pipes, then maybe experience some issues again, etc. - it'd end up as a sort of cycle.
Ahem. What I did not realize is that constipation makes it almost impossible to shit, even when you feel the urge to, and that this state is incredibly painful. I can't tell you how much time I am now spending on the toilet, straining with all my might to emit one tiny lump of coal. I only take shits at home now, since I often have to yell out in the manner of Martina Hingis. And I think the main consequence of my efforts is going to be hemorrhoids and varicose veins in my ass.
This, by the way, is on two Co*lace a day. At the recommendation of Beth and one of my online buddies, I called my clinic to ask for Mira.lax. The nurse said she had to ask the doctor, and, as luck would have it, she asked the one doctor (out of seven) with whom I have had a bad experience. He said no to the Mira.lax. Instead, the nurse said he suggested drinking more water or taking Meta.mucil. When I stopped laughing hysterically, I asked whether there was anything else I could do. She suggested high-fiber cereal. Once I again regained my composure, I pressed further. Finally, they gave me permission to use Dulco.lax suppositories, which I plan to attempt later today. I'm hoping this can clear things out and give the Co.lace more of a shot at working.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Diversion
This week has been a bad week so far, nausea-wise. I am spontaneously gagging for no apparent reason. Makes meetings at the office interesting. In other news, my stomach is starting to pooch out a bit - the boozy-sorority-girl look, as Jane has called it. It may be due to my massive intestinal backup, but at least it feels like progress.
Speaking of pooches, here's a photo of my dog. Isn't he the cutest? (Other than your dogs, I mean?)
Speaking of pooches, here's a photo of my dog. Isn't he the cutest? (Other than your dogs, I mean?)
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Disclosure
I've noticed lately that I seem to be in the minority among IFers on something - namely, disclosure to one's family about the details of IF treatments and (for the fortunate) pregnancy. Other people seem to involve their parents much earlier.
Now, we don't live in the same city as any of our parents. And our parents are WASPy - oh, very, very, WASPy. To give you an idea of how WASPy, my mother was visiting us in the spring and revealed in passing that she had just found a huge lump in her breast. She prefaced this revelation by saying, "I wouldn't even trouble you with this, but since I'm here...." (Her treatment, in case you're wondering, has gone well so far.)
My parents would never in a million years have asked us about our plans to have children or pressured us to do so, even though I'm sure they were dying to know (and my mother treats her cousins' grandchildren like her own). They learned about the basic infertility stuff when I was forced to disclose my laparoscopy to them because they were visiting for Thanksgiving a few days later and I wasn't sure how I'd be feeling. I probably would have told them about it anyway since it involved general anesthesia and that seems to kick the whole thing up a level in terms of gravity.
I didn't tell them anything about my first IVF because I didn't want to be beholden to reveal every occurrence. Also, my mother tends to tell everyone everything. For example, after I had my laparoscopy, I was visiting my parents for Christmas. My mother was throwing a birthday party for one of her friends, and this friend (whom I adore, but still) said, in front of the entire party, "So, they fixed you all up in there?" or something to that effect. Now, this friend's daughter did a bunch of IVFs and has two kids now, so I should have deduced that if I were hearing all the details about this woman's IVFs, then my mother was probably sharing all kinds of details in return.
My brother spilled the beans to our parents about IVF#2 because it affected some family travel plans. I confirmed that we had done one IVF and would be doing another, but I was intentionally vague on the details. And they've never asked. And my mother was undergoing chemo, surgery, etc., so it was easy to avoid this topic, although we did have one amusing conversation in which we compared assvice offered up to cancer patients and infertility patients.
So now, here I am, slogging through the first trimester, the end of which isn't too far off, and my parents have no idea. (My brother is in the know, however.) I'm trying to figure out when to tell them. After the next ultrasound? Or do I just wait to spring it on them dramatically in person at Thanksgiving?
Now, we don't live in the same city as any of our parents. And our parents are WASPy - oh, very, very, WASPy. To give you an idea of how WASPy, my mother was visiting us in the spring and revealed in passing that she had just found a huge lump in her breast. She prefaced this revelation by saying, "I wouldn't even trouble you with this, but since I'm here...." (Her treatment, in case you're wondering, has gone well so far.)
My parents would never in a million years have asked us about our plans to have children or pressured us to do so, even though I'm sure they were dying to know (and my mother treats her cousins' grandchildren like her own). They learned about the basic infertility stuff when I was forced to disclose my laparoscopy to them because they were visiting for Thanksgiving a few days later and I wasn't sure how I'd be feeling. I probably would have told them about it anyway since it involved general anesthesia and that seems to kick the whole thing up a level in terms of gravity.
I didn't tell them anything about my first IVF because I didn't want to be beholden to reveal every occurrence. Also, my mother tends to tell everyone everything. For example, after I had my laparoscopy, I was visiting my parents for Christmas. My mother was throwing a birthday party for one of her friends, and this friend (whom I adore, but still) said, in front of the entire party, "So, they fixed you all up in there?" or something to that effect. Now, this friend's daughter did a bunch of IVFs and has two kids now, so I should have deduced that if I were hearing all the details about this woman's IVFs, then my mother was probably sharing all kinds of details in return.
My brother spilled the beans to our parents about IVF#2 because it affected some family travel plans. I confirmed that we had done one IVF and would be doing another, but I was intentionally vague on the details. And they've never asked. And my mother was undergoing chemo, surgery, etc., so it was easy to avoid this topic, although we did have one amusing conversation in which we compared assvice offered up to cancer patients and infertility patients.
So now, here I am, slogging through the first trimester, the end of which isn't too far off, and my parents have no idea. (My brother is in the know, however.) I'm trying to figure out when to tell them. After the next ultrasound? Or do I just wait to spring it on them dramatically in person at Thanksgiving?
Friday, October 13, 2006
Small favors
So I went to pick up a month's worth of Z0fran at Wa7green's today. That's 90 pills, which should have equaled about $1800. I was prepared to hand over my credit card with steely resolve and sign the slip without really looking. But lo and behold - my total was something like $67. Apparently, my insurance has either decided to start picking up the Z0fran tab, or I reached some out-of-pocket maximum, or there was some major billing error. Whatever it was, I'll take it.
Cheap Zofran! Wooooooooo!
Update:
I looked more closely at my prescription printouts, and I realized I actually paid ZERO dollars for the Z0fran (which, according to the slip, should have been $3800+, so I guess my insurance was already partially covering it, even before now). The $67 I paid was for my PIO and needles. The PIO will get reimbursed, too.
I am so grateful I have good health insurance. I can't even imagine having to pay everything out of pocket - I think I'd get a heart condition just from the stress of it all, which would be counterproductive.
Cheap Zofran! Wooooooooo!
Update:
I looked more closely at my prescription printouts, and I realized I actually paid ZERO dollars for the Z0fran (which, according to the slip, should have been $3800+, so I guess my insurance was already partially covering it, even before now). The $67 I paid was for my PIO and needles. The PIO will get reimbursed, too.
I am so grateful I have good health insurance. I can't even imagine having to pay everything out of pocket - I think I'd get a heart condition just from the stress of it all, which would be counterproductive.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
The upside of hyperemesis
Nausea is a very consuming, focusing state. It totally sucks. But it is also useful in that I find myself being a lower-maintenance patient than I might be otherwise. My next ultrasound is 11/2, and that's okay with me - no begging for ultrasounds here. I spend no time agonizing about whether I am still pregnant or if everything is okay - I just don't have the energy to worry. I try to get through each day, and each week, and as I tick off another week here (I'm now nine weeks along, seven real weeks), it feels like an accomplishment, if one with no real outward manifestations yet.
I find myself hanging onto weird, irrational hopes. Like, HCG levels peak between eight and ten weeks, so maybe this is the worst it'll be? (Of course, hyperemesis sufferers don't seem subject to the same rules of thumb as your average pregnant woman - just look at what poor Beth has been through. Also, it's unclear whether HCG is really the reason behind hyperemesis.) And when another week passes and I still feel like ass - well, I have always shown a remarkable ability to come up with some other delusion to grasp onto.
I've stopped losing weight. I haven't gained any weight, but I'm glad to have stopped the slide. I go through phases where I can keep down a certain food or beverage for a couple of days, and then it repels me. Right now, I have been able to slurp some Od.walla Mango Tan.go each morning and have nibbled on a fresh gingerbread cookie from time to time as I go about my business in the office. I've had some success with Boy.lan's seltzer water, which is the only water I've been able to get down at all since all this crap* began. Water...it might as well be camel piss! I am on a strict schedule of Z0fran at 8am, 4pm, and midnight. I take Uni.som and B6 at night and crunch down one Flinst0nes chewable vitamin a day - I had forgotten how delicious they are. I'm serious. If they made a spree-like candy that tasted like Flintst0nes, I'd have a mouth full of cavities.
My husband and I were supposed to go to a wedding in Santa Barbara next weekend. We met at a wedding in Santa Barbara, so this trip would have been fun. I am definitely not going now (the idea of a plane ride - vomitous), and I have asked him to stay home, too, since it would be his third weekend in a row away. I hate that I am so needy and lame right now.
* Please note very few actual craps have occurred in recent memory.
I find myself hanging onto weird, irrational hopes. Like, HCG levels peak between eight and ten weeks, so maybe this is the worst it'll be? (Of course, hyperemesis sufferers don't seem subject to the same rules of thumb as your average pregnant woman - just look at what poor Beth has been through. Also, it's unclear whether HCG is really the reason behind hyperemesis.) And when another week passes and I still feel like ass - well, I have always shown a remarkable ability to come up with some other delusion to grasp onto.
I've stopped losing weight. I haven't gained any weight, but I'm glad to have stopped the slide. I go through phases where I can keep down a certain food or beverage for a couple of days, and then it repels me. Right now, I have been able to slurp some Od.walla Mango Tan.go each morning and have nibbled on a fresh gingerbread cookie from time to time as I go about my business in the office. I've had some success with Boy.lan's seltzer water, which is the only water I've been able to get down at all since all this crap* began. Water...it might as well be camel piss! I am on a strict schedule of Z0fran at 8am, 4pm, and midnight. I take Uni.som and B6 at night and crunch down one Flinst0nes chewable vitamin a day - I had forgotten how delicious they are. I'm serious. If they made a spree-like candy that tasted like Flintst0nes, I'd have a mouth full of cavities.
My husband and I were supposed to go to a wedding in Santa Barbara next weekend. We met at a wedding in Santa Barbara, so this trip would have been fun. I am definitely not going now (the idea of a plane ride - vomitous), and I have asked him to stay home, too, since it would be his third weekend in a row away. I hate that I am so needy and lame right now.
* Please note very few actual craps have occurred in recent memory.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Unfortunate reality
As you may recall, a few weeks ago I dreamed that my REs found my blog, and their feelings were hurt. The situation was so uncomfortable that I felt embarrassed and ashamed for a solid minute after I woke up. At last, I realized it was a dream, and the relief that washed over me was like, um, the warm and therapeutic waters of a geothermal pool. (We went here over the summer.)
Well, this unfortunate occurrence actually happened to Thalia. And she's decided to go dark for a while. I am sure I speak for many when I say that this is a huge loss to the blogosphere.
Well, this unfortunate occurrence actually happened to Thalia. And she's decided to go dark for a while. I am sure I speak for many when I say that this is a huge loss to the blogosphere.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Good days and bad days
On Friday, I managed to stay at work for five hours, which was pretty awesome. I felt really quite good for most of those hours, too, and I kind of thought maybe I'd hit upon a system that would work for me and that I could make most days like Friday.
Well, Saturday, Sunday, and today haven't been quite so good. I've felt on the verge of vomiting frequently, although I've managed to keep my juice and snacks down. Showering is very nausea-inducing for some reason. Sleep is interrupted and filled with bizarre dreams, but that may happen to everyone.
I've been trying to detect other symptoms so that I can finally feel pregnant instead of just sick. But my boobs haven't done much, my stomach is more or less where it was before, and while I am constipated, that may be more from the Z0fran than from the pregnancy. I'm sure most people don't really feel pregnant by this point, but I'm sort of desperately hoping to feel that way soon so that I can at least get some mental enjoyment out of this state that I'd shed so many tears desiring.
On an unrelated note, one of my young cousins was killed in a car crash near the university where she was a freshman this weekend. The same thing had happened to another cousin of mine (same university, also when he was a freshman) years ago. It is so devastating - I can't even imagine what her siblings and parents are going through right now. I hope I can schlep my sorry ass onto a plane this weekend for the services.
Well, Saturday, Sunday, and today haven't been quite so good. I've felt on the verge of vomiting frequently, although I've managed to keep my juice and snacks down. Showering is very nausea-inducing for some reason. Sleep is interrupted and filled with bizarre dreams, but that may happen to everyone.
I've been trying to detect other symptoms so that I can finally feel pregnant instead of just sick. But my boobs haven't done much, my stomach is more or less where it was before, and while I am constipated, that may be more from the Z0fran than from the pregnancy. I'm sure most people don't really feel pregnant by this point, but I'm sort of desperately hoping to feel that way soon so that I can at least get some mental enjoyment out of this state that I'd shed so many tears desiring.
On an unrelated note, one of my young cousins was killed in a car crash near the university where she was a freshman this weekend. The same thing had happened to another cousin of mine (same university, also when he was a freshman) years ago. It is so devastating - I can't even imagine what her siblings and parents are going through right now. I hope I can schlep my sorry ass onto a plane this weekend for the services.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Tidbit
Today, we went to see the perinatologist. He was quite jovial. As our appointment wrapped up, we were chitchatting about higher-order multiples. My husband asked him what the most he'd ever seen was. He said the most embryos he'd ever seen in one of his own patients was ten, and the most he ever saw, period, occurred when he was in training, and some poor woman had nineteen embryos gestating away. Both had occurred from ovulation induction (ie, stimulation drugs, but not IVF). Presumably, there was some irresponsible medical advice given out, since someone with that many follicles should obviously not be doing an IUI or even doing it the old-fashioned way. Or maybe the patient threw caution to the wind - with a vengeance.
Nineteen! Shit.
Nineteen! Shit.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Then and now
A little before-and-after for you - before HG, after (well, during) HG:
BEFORE:
Worked out 5-7x a week
Took multivitamin, extra folic acid, and fish oil daily
Ate mostly organic diet with lots of fresh fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins
Guzzled at least three liters of water daily
Sipped antioxidant-rich wine nightly
Wrote fiction two hours each morning
Worked a respectable workday at fulfilling job
Walked, cuddled with, and generally showered dog with affection
Cleaned house occasionally
Left house frequently
Showered regularly
Enjoyed regularity of digestive tract
AFTER:
Eschew vitamins because of possible nauseous characteristics
Reluctantly sip diluted apple juice, lemonade, Sierra M!st; despite feeling incredibly thirsty, find self unable to gulp any liquids without feeling immediately seasick (and water - forget it!)
Avoid dog because of intensity of his aroma (thanks to new bionic nose)
Scrape by at job, avoiding queries as to nature of illness
Strain, strain, strain to emit one tiny turd each morning (thanks, Z0fran!)
Lie down immediately after eating in hopes of averting vomiting and retaining nutrition
Shower when forced to by husband (or own pungence)
Lie on couch so much that left hip is sore from facing television
Sleep on back to keep food inside and otherwise violate every paragraph of What to Expect When You're Expecting
Notice large collections of dog hair stampeding through living room; sigh disconsolately
Spend hours ruminating over what you might possibly be able to keep down; ponder whether XYZ food will be regrettable on the way back up; upon reaching a decision, issue proclamation to husband to get it NOW (said in Jack Bauer voice)
Go to great lengths to avoid refrigerator (oh, the smell! bleahhhhhhhhhhhh)
Fart frequently, but still only a small fraction of the frequency of husband; berate husband for said farts, reminding him of bionic nose and intense nausea
Find yourself hostage to the clock and when you can take the next pill
Spend 21 1/2 hours a day inside house
Burst into tears; bemoan fate; feel stupid
BEFORE:
Worked out 5-7x a week
Took multivitamin, extra folic acid, and fish oil daily
Ate mostly organic diet with lots of fresh fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins
Guzzled at least three liters of water daily
Sipped antioxidant-rich wine nightly
Wrote fiction two hours each morning
Worked a respectable workday at fulfilling job
Walked, cuddled with, and generally showered dog with affection
Cleaned house occasionally
Left house frequently
Showered regularly
Enjoyed regularity of digestive tract
AFTER:
Eschew vitamins because of possible nauseous characteristics
Reluctantly sip diluted apple juice, lemonade, Sierra M!st; despite feeling incredibly thirsty, find self unable to gulp any liquids without feeling immediately seasick (and water - forget it!)
Avoid dog because of intensity of his aroma (thanks to new bionic nose)
Scrape by at job, avoiding queries as to nature of illness
Strain, strain, strain to emit one tiny turd each morning (thanks, Z0fran!)
Lie down immediately after eating in hopes of averting vomiting and retaining nutrition
Shower when forced to by husband (or own pungence)
Lie on couch so much that left hip is sore from facing television
Sleep on back to keep food inside and otherwise violate every paragraph of What to Expect When You're Expecting
Notice large collections of dog hair stampeding through living room; sigh disconsolately
Spend hours ruminating over what you might possibly be able to keep down; ponder whether XYZ food will be regrettable on the way back up; upon reaching a decision, issue proclamation to husband to get it NOW (said in Jack Bauer voice)
Go to great lengths to avoid refrigerator (oh, the smell! bleahhhhhhhhhhhh)
Fart frequently, but still only a small fraction of the frequency of husband; berate husband for said farts, reminding him of bionic nose and intense nausea
Find yourself hostage to the clock and when you can take the next pill
Spend 21 1/2 hours a day inside house
Burst into tears; bemoan fate; feel stupid
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Update
Well, I still feel like shit. I realize that this blog is just one long complaint these days, so I'll try to keep the keening to a minimum.
I had an ultrasound last week when I was admitted to the hospital, and there were indeed two sacs in there. They both had heartbeats, but one had a much lower heartbeat that wasn't quite where they wanted it to be. The other one had a good heartbeat, and I am thankful for that. I'm assuming that the second one may not be lodging for long, and that is okay by me. I feel so weak all the time.
There are going to be some hard decisions about work for me, I think. If I quit my job (which I really like), I will lose not only my salary, but, more critically, my amazing health insurance. So I am trying to figure out some way to keep working, but do a lot more from home. I don't want to go into too many identifying details, but it is safe to say that this will be difficult, especially if the HG continues for a long time. We are seeing a high-risk maternal-fetal medicine doctor this week or next to discuss my situation.
I keep losing weight. My weight has been more or less constant my entire adult life - 125 lbs, give or take a few - and now I find myself well below that. I'm on Zofran around the clock, which is expensive, but I guess the upside is that I'm sure not spending any money on food, entertainment, or bigger clothes.
My husband has been wonderful. I can tell he's worried. He's also supposed to be out of town the next three weekends in a row, and I'm not sure I can handle being alone all that time. Our poor dog doesn't know what to make of me these days - I think he's a little afraid of me now since I no longer go on walks and spend most of my time immobile on the couch.
I had an ultrasound last week when I was admitted to the hospital, and there were indeed two sacs in there. They both had heartbeats, but one had a much lower heartbeat that wasn't quite where they wanted it to be. The other one had a good heartbeat, and I am thankful for that. I'm assuming that the second one may not be lodging for long, and that is okay by me. I feel so weak all the time.
There are going to be some hard decisions about work for me, I think. If I quit my job (which I really like), I will lose not only my salary, but, more critically, my amazing health insurance. So I am trying to figure out some way to keep working, but do a lot more from home. I don't want to go into too many identifying details, but it is safe to say that this will be difficult, especially if the HG continues for a long time. We are seeing a high-risk maternal-fetal medicine doctor this week or next to discuss my situation.
I keep losing weight. My weight has been more or less constant my entire adult life - 125 lbs, give or take a few - and now I find myself well below that. I'm on Zofran around the clock, which is expensive, but I guess the upside is that I'm sure not spending any money on food, entertainment, or bigger clothes.
My husband has been wonderful. I can tell he's worried. He's also supposed to be out of town the next three weekends in a row, and I'm not sure I can handle being alone all that time. Our poor dog doesn't know what to make of me these days - I think he's a little afraid of me now since I no longer go on walks and spend most of my time immobile on the couch.
Friday, September 29, 2006
In need of a good cry?
Then read my friend Brando's eloquent, funny, and heartbreaking account of his and his wife's arrival at the end of the ART road. (They are both wonderful writers, too, so you may find you want to stay a while on their blogs.)
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Would you like some cheese with that whine?
My life has been reduced to diluted apple juice and the occasional Triscuit. I am now five pounds below my pre-pregnancy (or, really, pre-IVF) weight. I was back to barfing yesterday, not 24 hours after getting out of the hospital. I don't want to have to go back, either - for one thing, the hospital has no wireless access, and the Internet is the only thing enabling me to continue working right now.
I have been delinquent in commenting on your blogs, but I am doing my best to keep up with the good news, the bad news, and the waiting.
I have been delinquent in commenting on your blogs, but I am doing my best to keep up with the good news, the bad news, and the waiting.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
L'hopital
So I called the clinic yesterday, and they told me to come in. When I came in, all kinds of things were aswirl, and the next thing I knew I was an inpatient at the hospital for the first time in my life. 36 hours and a lot of IV drugs and fluids later, I am feeling better. The goal now is apparently to keep me in a state of mild nausea, which sounds appealing at present. More later. Thanks for all your well wishes!
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Perhaps I spoke too soon
By last night, Zofran was no longer working its magic on me. It wears off faster than I am allowed to take the pills. I nearly puked in bed last night (again).
Today, I feel like crap, and I can't take another pill until 2pm. I can't sit up or stand up for very long without feeling like I am going to barf. I'm not sure how I am going to get through this.
We had a little drama yesterday when I experienced an ocular migraine (but with no pain in my head). I have had them twice before, but not in the past ten years. I was worried that it was related to the Zofran, so I called the OB resident on call. She told me to go to the ER, where I saw a couple of doctors, who then referred me to the ophthalmologist on call, who took nine years to complete our visit, since she had to run upstairs periodically to deal with what I gathered was a victim (or, really, perpetrator) of a meth-lab explosion. The migraine had gone away after twenty minutes or so, but they were certainly thorough. They didn't think it was related to the Zofran, which is all I really wanted to know. I felt extremely nauseated by the time I got home.
I am really not sure how I am going to get through work this week, let alone months and months of this.
Today, I feel like crap, and I can't take another pill until 2pm. I can't sit up or stand up for very long without feeling like I am going to barf. I'm not sure how I am going to get through this.
We had a little drama yesterday when I experienced an ocular migraine (but with no pain in my head). I have had them twice before, but not in the past ten years. I was worried that it was related to the Zofran, so I called the OB resident on call. She told me to go to the ER, where I saw a couple of doctors, who then referred me to the ophthalmologist on call, who took nine years to complete our visit, since she had to run upstairs periodically to deal with what I gathered was a victim (or, really, perpetrator) of a meth-lab explosion. The migraine had gone away after twenty minutes or so, but they were certainly thorough. They didn't think it was related to the Zofran, which is all I really wanted to know. I felt extremely nauseated by the time I got home.
I am really not sure how I am going to get through work this week, let alone months and months of this.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Big pharma, I love-slash-hate you
Mmmmmm....Zofran. Sweet Zofran. Light of my life, fire of my loins Zofran. $18 per pill Zofran.
So I called the RE clinic yesterday and demanded the above-named drug since the Phene7gan didn't seem to be doing the trick quite as much as one might hope. I was, you see, harboring a desire to return to work on Monday and wanted to give Zofran (which doesn't knock you out) a whirl. After I got over the shock of the $275 price tag for a partially filled prescription (five to seven days' worth of the stuff), I found that Zofran could take me from the severe nausea/frequent vomiting state to something that is probably more akin to regular morning sickness (mild nausea and some food aversions). I don't feel like my normal self, but I probably feel 60% like my normal self, which is significantly better than the 1% I had been feeling.
Several years back, I hiked the Inca Trail in Peru with some friends, and three of the five of us became deathly ill on the first day - couldn't keep anything down or, ahem, in - and yet we managed to continue hiking, forced to do so by our healthy friends and our coca-chewing guide. On the third morning, we woke up feeling like 60% of our normal selves, but to us, it was as if we had never felt better. One of my friends observed that it was amazing what you could do when you had no choice. I am trying to keep that in mind now.
I still feel very weak, and for some reason my equilibrium is off - I very nearly fell backwards down our steep wooden stairs last night. My goal for the weekend is to get used to sitting upright more, thereby getting myself back into shape for work. I ate a waffle this morning. Hallelujah!
Only two more hours until I can take another delicious, highway-robbery-committing Zofran. In other news, my boobs finally hurt (and have begun to alter their appearance) and I did feel quite tired this morning, even after getting 9.5 hours of sleep.
So I called the RE clinic yesterday and demanded the above-named drug since the Phene7gan didn't seem to be doing the trick quite as much as one might hope. I was, you see, harboring a desire to return to work on Monday and wanted to give Zofran (which doesn't knock you out) a whirl. After I got over the shock of the $275 price tag for a partially filled prescription (five to seven days' worth of the stuff), I found that Zofran could take me from the severe nausea/frequent vomiting state to something that is probably more akin to regular morning sickness (mild nausea and some food aversions). I don't feel like my normal self, but I probably feel 60% like my normal self, which is significantly better than the 1% I had been feeling.
Several years back, I hiked the Inca Trail in Peru with some friends, and three of the five of us became deathly ill on the first day - couldn't keep anything down or, ahem, in - and yet we managed to continue hiking, forced to do so by our healthy friends and our coca-chewing guide. On the third morning, we woke up feeling like 60% of our normal selves, but to us, it was as if we had never felt better. One of my friends observed that it was amazing what you could do when you had no choice. I am trying to keep that in mind now.
I still feel very weak, and for some reason my equilibrium is off - I very nearly fell backwards down our steep wooden stairs last night. My goal for the weekend is to get used to sitting upright more, thereby getting myself back into shape for work. I ate a waffle this morning. Hallelujah!
Only two more hours until I can take another delicious, highway-robbery-committing Zofran. In other news, my boobs finally hurt (and have begun to alter their appearance) and I did feel quite tired this morning, even after getting 9.5 hours of sleep.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Flat Coke and Saltines
Not quite the same thing as cigarettes and red vines, eh? Anyway, that's what I'm attempting to keep down right now. Phene7gan works wonders for nausea, but you only get to enjoy your nausea-free feeling in your sleep since it packs a soporific punch. Last night, I would wake up from it and think that my life was back to normal, since I didn't feel like ass, but then I remembered it was just temporary, which makes me feel...hmmm...how do you say it? Oh yes, despair. I felt despair. I even felt a little hungry on a couple of those occasions, but by the time I really woke up, it was back to nausea.
(Aside: Charlotte Bronte died of hyperemesis - so illustrious!)
Whatever happens with this pregnancy, I feel sure that it is going to be my first and last one. Have you ever had food poisoning? You know, where you alternate between severe nausea and urgent puking (even though you may have nothing left to puke)? That's what I feel like all day long, and that's what I fear stretches for months and months before me. I am beginning to feel as if fate was, in fact, telling me something by not letting me conceive the old-fashioned way. Fate, I apologize. I will never try to thwart you again.
I have an hour and a half more until I can take another Phene7gan, so I am going to try to get some work in, since we need my excellent health coverage, goddammit.
(Aside: Charlotte Bronte died of hyperemesis - so illustrious!)
Whatever happens with this pregnancy, I feel sure that it is going to be my first and last one. Have you ever had food poisoning? You know, where you alternate between severe nausea and urgent puking (even though you may have nothing left to puke)? That's what I feel like all day long, and that's what I fear stretches for months and months before me. I am beginning to feel as if fate was, in fact, telling me something by not letting me conceive the old-fashioned way. Fate, I apologize. I will never try to thwart you again.
I have an hour and a half more until I can take another Phene7gan, so I am going to try to get some work in, since we need my excellent health coverage, goddammit.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Less textbook
Okay, I really feel like shit. Like, I awoke out of a dream last night, about to vomit in my bed. This repeated itself several times. I can't drink liquids or keep food down with much success. I am only exaggerating slightly when I say that if I had a terminal illness and were experiencing these feelings, I would very strongly consider ending all treatment and asking for a big dose of morphine.
I bought some Sea-Bands today. Let's hope they help. Bllllleah.
I bought some Sea-Bands today. Let's hope they help. Bllllleah.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Textbook
I read online that the average time from conception to the onset of morning sickness is 5 1/2 weeks. At precisely 5 weeks and 4 days, I came down with something that reminds me of some of the hangovers I had in high school after a few too many Bartles & Jaymes wine coolers. Bleah! I'm trying to stuff some oatmeal down my gullet so that I can take my vitamins and aspirin and Es7race. Eww.
On the plus side, I don't feel overly tired yet (except for the weakness from my not being able to eat or drink much), and my boobs don't hurt at all.
On the plus side, I don't feel overly tired yet (except for the weakness from my not being able to eat or drink much), and my boobs don't hurt at all.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Mouths agape
A "Eureka!" moment occurred in our house this weekend. Now, perhaps someone has figured this out before (a la Newton and Leibniz developing calculus simultaneously), but I report to you that we have determined an all-purpose response to rude inquiries or comments regarding IVF (or IUIs, for that matter). When faced with such an inquiry or commentary, simply respond, "Well, of course we did IVF. How else could we remain virgins?" Then prance merrily away from their gaping jaws.
Speaking of virginity, I have been tagged for the first time, courtesy of Nilla at Vanilla Dreams. I am supposed to respond quickly to these four words.
1. Coffee. I stopped drinking coffee, for the most part, nearly two years ago. Since then, I have become a green-tea evangelist, but I've had to quit even that since its cancer-preventing properties also apparently prevent folate absorption by buns in ovens. I've developed something of an aversion to coffee since I quit it, with one situational exception: vacation. When I'm on vacation, I guzzle coffee. I want it. I need it. It feels outrageous and decadent. Energy courses through my veins and possibilities present themselves to me, sort of like when you have that first glass of wine. Mmmm, wine.
2. Rain. Since we've been homeowners, I have grown a bit afraid of rain. Rain leaks through the roof. Rain falls on the lawn and causes it to grow, which causes it to need mowing, which in turn usually results in conversations like this. MM: "Are you going to mow the lawn?" MM's Husband: "I'm so tired!" MM: "Well, when are you going to mow it?" MMH: "Stop nagging me." MM: "Do I have to do everything around here?" (Note: I have never actually mowed the lawn, and I mean that literally, you perverts.)
3. Star. Oh, shame. I have to admit that when I see this word, the first thing that comes to mind is Star Jones Reynolds, a powerful candidate for the honor of Most Ridiculous Person in the World (Possibly the Universe). More ridiculous than Britney Spears, K. Fed., and perhaps even Katherine Harris. More ridiculous than all of the Hiltons put together. More ridiculous than Scientology and Joe Simpson and Heckuva Job Brownie.
4. Hula-hoop. Um, yet another thing I'm not good at?
I now tag the following four people:
1. Emmie at Fertility Lost.
2. TLB at Illiterati.
3. Midwestern Deadbeat at Midwestern Deadbeat.
4. Jane at Jane's Calamity.
Speaking of virginity, I have been tagged for the first time, courtesy of Nilla at Vanilla Dreams. I am supposed to respond quickly to these four words.
1. Coffee. I stopped drinking coffee, for the most part, nearly two years ago. Since then, I have become a green-tea evangelist, but I've had to quit even that since its cancer-preventing properties also apparently prevent folate absorption by buns in ovens. I've developed something of an aversion to coffee since I quit it, with one situational exception: vacation. When I'm on vacation, I guzzle coffee. I want it. I need it. It feels outrageous and decadent. Energy courses through my veins and possibilities present themselves to me, sort of like when you have that first glass of wine. Mmmm, wine.
2. Rain. Since we've been homeowners, I have grown a bit afraid of rain. Rain leaks through the roof. Rain falls on the lawn and causes it to grow, which causes it to need mowing, which in turn usually results in conversations like this. MM: "Are you going to mow the lawn?" MM's Husband: "I'm so tired!" MM: "Well, when are you going to mow it?" MMH: "Stop nagging me." MM: "Do I have to do everything around here?" (Note: I have never actually mowed the lawn, and I mean that literally, you perverts.)
3. Star. Oh, shame. I have to admit that when I see this word, the first thing that comes to mind is Star Jones Reynolds, a powerful candidate for the honor of Most Ridiculous Person in the World (Possibly the Universe). More ridiculous than Britney Spears, K. Fed., and perhaps even Katherine Harris. More ridiculous than all of the Hiltons put together. More ridiculous than Scientology and Joe Simpson and Heckuva Job Brownie.
4. Hula-hoop. Um, yet another thing I'm not good at?
I now tag the following four people:
1. Emmie at Fertility Lost.
2. TLB at Illiterati.
3. Midwestern Deadbeat at Midwestern Deadbeat.
4. Jane at Jane's Calamity.
Your words are:
1. Deodorant.
2. Throwback.
3. Period.
4. Blossom.
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