Tag Archives: BFN

Cue the Music

And another one bites the dust…

So you know that call? The call that on one hand makes you really happy and makes you want to throw up on the other?

Got two in a row today.

First, clinic called with results of today’s blood work. Recognized the number but the voice was not the nice weekend nurse lady. Oh no – male voice. The doc himself. Follies = 8 above 1.0. Estrogen= molasses. Apparently. So happy for eggs and want to throw up over possiblity of canceling the cycle.

Hang up the phone. Ring Ring. Hi friend who’s been trying to get pregant! Hey – third times the charm right? Congrats! Yay with the happy hand while throw up hand is wiping the stupid grin off my face.

Oh yes. We have good days and bad days. And some days we have both. All at once. Over and over again.

I’ve been thinking about this all day long. And I’m not sure if we get canceled that I’m prepared to do this again. On the happy hand it’s a small price to pay to get from A to Baby. On the vomit hand, it’s like going to a party being kicked in the gut and the ass and the big fat lip while every one around you is handed the only thing you want on a silver bumbo. And then you leave the party bloody and empty handed.

Just don’t know how much kicking I can take.

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Things I hope I remember if I ever have a baby…

The temperature is warming up. And I forgot that warmer weather means the return of life to my neighbourhood. This includes the baby brigade. We live in a pretty yuppie neighbourhood – great if you have a baby. Not so great if you want one and can’t seem to have one. Of course, when we moved here, we figured we’d fit right in in no time. Apparently not. I had conveniently forgotten  – over the long very cold winter – about the babyrotti that roam the streets in the hood.

Long story short – they’re out in full force. Now those with bumps last year are pushing strollers and a bumper crop of new expectants are strolling around flaunting their fertile selves.

Apparently I have grown colder as time wears on – or this Lupron is turning me into a mega-bit.ch because these were my observations today. Don’t hate me because I’m miserable.

1. We’re in a Sta.rbu.cks so the drink everyone is holding is very hot. Maybe a toddler shouldn’t be dancing right now.

2. Maybe people under 3 feet shouldn’t be crossing behind a car with reverse lights on when mom and dad are trying to get child 2 out of the car.

3. It is cute when children stand in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s not cute when 2 parents with giant empty stoller stand in the middle of the side walk to reflect on the cuteness.

4. Strangers don’t always love to see your kids try and try to open a door by themselves when they are all lined up to exit said door.

5. Fertile people don’t rule the freakin’ world.

Ok, there, I said it.

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Good Riddance

Dear Pill,

It’s over. I knew when we got back together that is wasn’t what I really wanted but you know, how sometimes, you just go along with things? Well, I did what was right for me at the time, and now, we’re through.

When we first got together all those years ago, I fell in love with you. You were part of my coming of age story, you brought freedom and joy and I’ll always remember you for that.

After those first years we were a little hot and cold. The things that made you bad for me became more apparent. You made me feel bad. Made me moody and weepy and blue. We parted ways.

And then, we tried again for a while after I was first diagnosed with endo. But my heart just wasn’t in it any more. You brought more bad than good and we said good bye again.

Sometimes I wish we’d stayed that way, but we didn’t. We’d try and things wouldn’t work out. But I never gave up the hope that we’d make it through.

We’d had a good clean break for quite some time. And I can say with all honesty that I thought we were done. Until fate, and big fat cysts brought us together again.

I would have dropped you months ago – loved you and left you after the cysts were cleared  but fate had other plans for us. Schedules. The holidays. Timing

After today, we won’t be together anymore. And I hope you don’t take it the wrong way when I say I really hope I never have to see you again. I know it’s a cliche but it’s not you, it’s me. You give millions of people exactly what they need. Really, It’s not that you’re bad, Pill. It’s just that you’re bad for me. You’re standing between me and the life that I want. As long as you’re here with me, that life can never be.

So good -bye and good riddance. Today is the end of my life with you. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. If you every loved me Pill, even a little, you’ll go away now and never, never look back.

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You got here how?

Ok – so a few things to cover today. Before we get to “You got here how?”, let me first clear something up from yesterdays post…went for my mock transfer today – with endometrial biospy. IT WASN’T THAT BAD!!! So if you’re getting ready for one – fear not. Sure, it could be worse for some people than others. But in my experience ? It was alright.

Now back to the regularly scheduled post in which I ask – you got here how?

So I’ll admit that I do look at the blog stats and am curious how people end up here. Today – someone arrived by searching Baby Name Blogs.

BABY NAME BLOGS. I’m afraid I didn’t have much to offer that person. But , whoever you are, how about Follicle Names?

Yes, it’s true. I have named the follicles- every monitored cycle I’ve given a moniker to the main follies in the stable. There was Foll-E (during the cycle in which we saw Wall-E). Oh, and the cycle I had a horrible cold there were 2 big ones – Snuffle and Gus. There was  also ‘Big Guy’ the month that there was an unusually large follicle. Sadly, Foll-E, Snuffle, Gus and Big Guy never made it past that stage.

If we’d had a positive, perhaps we’d have nicknames for the baby-to-be – peanut, bean, Bab-E. But alas. No such luck.

So Baby Name searcher – who ever you are – I really hope that sometime in the future I will have such a post. And if not me, then one of the lovely folks in the blogroll to your right will. It is my hope that every blog I read will have the pleasure of having exactly what you’re looking for.

When should you check back? Well, we start Lupron tomorrow – will have our beta test somewhere around the middle of March. I’d check back around August.

Unless you are indeed looking for advice on Follicle Names. We start our monitoring on the 17th – 3 days after our stims start. So I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for somewhere around the 20th of Feb.

Tomorrow is Needle day 1. Only one injection a day until the stims. Then three a day. Maybe I can start naming the bruises. (Tumm-E)

We’re on our way.

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The internet should use it’s power for good…

Instead of evil. Like yesterday, when I was researching the endometrial biopsy I’m having tomorrow and found these comments.

Go ahead. Scroll down to the comments. Apparently I’m walking into labour – you know- without the whole ‘finally get pregnant after all this time, carry successfully to term, have a natural birth then get to go home with a brand new baby thing’. No, just the labour.

I get that people feel the need to warn people so they have an idea what to expect – but my god people – now I’m terrified. Was that really, really necessary?

Right after my mock transfer/endometrial (LABOUR) biopsy, I get to part with enough money to buy a decent car, have a clinic appointment with my nurse to learn how to stab myself one or more times a day and head to the pharmacy to gleefully hand over enough for a second car.

I’d love to know how anyone who has just endured the worst pain of their life is supposed to check 3 things off the big to-do list in the 45 min that follow.

I hope that perhaps those who aren’t used to all the kings horses and all the kings men busting in past the cervix are perhaps more likely to feel great pain.

And maybe they didn’t have the pleasure of a full blatter ultrasound at the same time to keep their minds occupied.

I sure hope that’s the case. Because they want to investigate the cramping of my cervix at the same time – during the mock transfer – which I’m guessing means no drugs for me.

I’ll report back. I’ll be very honest. But not too honest. Because I will use the power vested in me by the interweb for good. And not evil.

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Is Parentsville accepting new residents?

Injection school. Mock transfer. Endometrial biopsy. A few short months ago – I didn’t really know what any of those things were. I’ve spent the last month willing time to past more quickly so I could just start already. Now that it’s the day after tomorrow, I’m nervous.

I’ll finally be in the thick of it. Good. But once it’s here, it can start going badly. The injections might be more painful than I expected. What if the biopsy shows yet another setback? What if the mock transfer doesn’t go well? The cycle gets cancelled? The cycle doesn’t get cancelled but still doesn’t work?

What if it doesn’t work? I really want it to work. I am channelling everything I can into ‘it will work’. I haven’t really spent much time wrapping my head around another BFN.

I thought I was ready for this IVF but I’m not sure I am. I’m not ready for it not to work.

We put one foot in front of the other I suppose, trudging along on the path to parenthood. All around us other couples are carried on magic carpets or winged ponies or Lear jets to the destination while we crawl on our hands and knees (not an easy task with your feet in stirrups) towards the endpoint. The thing is, I’m not sure the door will be open to me when we arrive at the gate.

Are we there yet? Is it much further? No one can answer. And it makes it harder to keep going when you know in the darkest parts of your heart that the truth of the matter is this. Despite being able to see the glow of Parentsville way off in the distance, no matter how much I want to finally be there, I may never, never arrive.

So I’m nervous to start on the next part of the trip. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come back to who I am now-pre-IVF. But I don’t know if I’ll ever get to Parentsville either. I fear getting caught forever on the muddy part in between.

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And then I cried at work…

Ok – so here’s a rather personal story that is adding to my up-and-down mood. This is kind of disjointed. My apologies.

So my Dad died in 2000. A heartbreaking turn of events that wasn’t unexpected but devastating just the same. He got Hep-C from a blood transfusion in the early 90’s and eventually it killed him. Very sad. Very frustrating. And it made me very angry.

To add insult to injury, due to the date of his transfusion, he was ineligible for the major compensation packages that were offered to other folks. Until now. So after 8 years, he’s (well, my sister and I have) finally received the go-ahead for compensation for the gross oversight on the part of the Red Cross that resulted in his death (and the death of thousands more).

What does this have to do with IVF?  Well, today said cheque arrived – exactly one week before we’re due to pay for IVF #1. So after all this time, my Dad has provided for me once again. He was a single parent of two girls – an unusual position to have found himself in during the seventies. He took me to Mother/Daughter banquets, Mother’s Day Teas, took me to get my first ‘brassiere (I don’t even know how to spell brassiere)…and by took me I mean delivered me into the arms of the busty, glasses on a string around her neck sales woman at Sears, handed her his credit card, stuttered a bit and went off to find a coffee. When I was thinking about it the other day, I realized I never needed anything while he was around. I had a roof over my head, a car to drive when I needed it, clothes, food, an education, cool stuff I wanted more than I needed.

But starting a family. That’s a need I feel in my very core. It’s more than a want. And figuring out how to make it work moneywise was hard, but we had a plan. Little sacrifice here. Cut back there.

We’ve been waiting for this to be finalized for 8 years. Could have come any time. But the cheque has come now. In my time of need. And I am grateful for the timing. And I am thankful that the folks responsible have stepped up and taken responsibility.

But dammit – it’s also made me angry all over again. I miss him. Still. He’s the best Grandpa a kid never had.

He was Santa Claus and Superman in one. And has swooped in to rescue me and my husband (who he never had the pleasure to meet) again. Eight and a half years after we said good-bye for good.

I’m not a big one for signs. But if there was ever a moment to say ‘it’s a sign’ – this is it!

Thanks Dad. For everything. For every day I had the pleasure of your faith in me. Cross your fingers for us ok? I hope I’ll have the opportunity to be half the parent you were.

I miss you. Still. Every day. Especially today.

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The Glass is Half Full – say it with me now…

So I’ve been bitching and moaning all week.  And it’s a sad truth that the more I bitch and moan, the bitchier and moanier (?) I get. So today ? Today is my glass half full day.

For starters, the wait for my first IVF is almost over. Thank god. The wait has been killing me. All the uncertainty and the fear of  screwing up the injections and having the cycle canceled and so on and so on only get worse when it’s all I think about day after day. So – wait almost over. Time to stop worrying and start channeling positivity. There is a chance this is going to work. I need to focus on that chance – and not the chance…never mind. Not even going to say it.

Next – I really like my new clinic. My last one just made me feel worse and worse at time went on. So if I’m going to have to spend lots of time in compromising positions it will be at a place I like.

I have a great partner through all of this – I’m very lucky to have met my husband and to have his unwaivering support on every step of our journey.

Not everyone I know is pregnant and the ones that are? Well, they’re all getting pretty chunky… It’s not nice – but it’s true. And  if I’m ever pregnant and someone around me isn’t but wants to be, I hope I have the courtesy to pack on a few pounds so they can glean a little joy from the situation.

I really like babies. And I’d really like to have one now. And I have done everything that was asked of me, and I have waited my turn (not patiently but waited) and I am ready to be loving, caring and nurturing. I am ready to take on the task of taking a tiny little person and parenting him or her into a great human being. I’m ready be up all night. I’m ready to worry that I’m f#(%ing them up. I’m ready.

For some months last year I lost hope. I couldn’t see a future that included a new member in our family. I couldn’t imagine it finally working. I was ready to give up. But I have hope renewed. Energy to channel into a positive outcome. And a dream of being a mother that I won’t let go of. Not yet.

THE GLASS IS HALF FULL. Maybe one day it’ll fill all the way to the top. Though a full glass is a lot easier to spill. And I can’t afford to let any of this hope run out.

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Something sad about friends you pay for…

So I was sitting at Sta.r.bu.cks this morning doing some work and a woman and her little girl came in and sat in my chair cluster. Now, I’m sure they have their moments – the little girl looked about 2. But from where I was sitting, they were buddies. They had private jokes. They had games and dance moves and they were having a grand old time. And despite usual urge to send angry at the universe eye daggers at them, they made me smile.

Until I came to the realization that I was only going to have a buddy like that once I had paid thousands, potentially tens of thousands of dollars. And an emotional price too high to name. Now maybe she did too. That I will never know. But I’m irked today that almost everyone I know paid for the bottle of wine, maybe the dinner. Heck – maybe there was lube. And that’s it. They didn’t pay the emotional toll…one ticket to the infertility rollercoaster – that’ll be 2 or more years of your life, part of your relationship with your husband, your relationship with all your pregnant friends, some of your self worth. Oh, and a big chunk of your sex life please.

I am not a fan of roller coasters. And I am not saying I care about the money more than I care about finally adding to our family. I am thrilled to have the opportunity to take this next step in our journey to become parents.

I’m just grieving having missed out on an experience that is just about happiness. Just about two people becoming three. Sure, once baby comes, most couples experience a bit of money trouble, relationship trouble, some loss of self for Mom, some loss of sex for both of them. But until the stork comes – it’s happy, happy, happy.

Not everybody has to pay for a ticket to happy. And I would like to be those people. Dammit.

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Ready to hit play.

One of the things I find most discouraging about being infertile is how it’s like someone has hit the pause button on my life. Do I want to go on vacation? Hmmm, well I’d love to but…I could be cycling. Could be (please let me be) pregnant. Could be mourning a lost cycle. Might need tests. So no to vacation. How about a new job? Well, I might be interested except – Try a new sport? Well I’d hate to spend the money then find I couldn’t…

It’s like everything that moves me forward, personally or professionally is on hiatus. Maybe I’m too cautious. Or maybe I haven’t quite grasped that I should just live my life and see what happens. It’s so frustrating. See, if we were expecting, all the concessions would seem totally worth it. No drinking. No taking up something new and potentially harmful, mat leave’s coming – no need to change work.

Instead I feel like I’m living month to month. And every month it feels like it’s ok because it’s all going to change and then it will be ok. And then it doesn’t change. And then 3 months, a year, two years have gone by, month to month and nothing has changed.

I realized at the last party I went to that I’m boring to talk to. I used to be interesting – trying new things, returning from grand adventures, running marathons and meeting the man of my dreams.  Now – don’t want to talk about babies, family, no babies or anything that might lead to talk of babies and the like. Haven’t done anything or been anywhere due to constraints around making babies the new fashioned way. Have been consumed by my laser focus on finally having a positive cycle – I’ve keep my eyes on the prize with unwavering tenacity. At great cost.

Cost to the tune of having lost just about everything that used to make me – well, me. I’m not sure which is making me sadder today- the fact that we haven’t been able to conceive up to this point and find ourselves at IVF’s door. Or that I’ve lost just about everything I used to love in the process.

-running, ulitmate frisbee, exploring, ice skating, roller blading, snowboarding – (wouldn’t want to be too active…)hanging out with my friends (with kids), hanging out with my friends (about to have kids), hanging out with my friends (trying to have kids), hanging out with my friends (who might be thinking about trying to have kids), having too many drinks on a random night for no good reason, going to work events to catch up with past colleagues (for all the reasons above in the friend categories), shooting the shizz about the future with my husband.

I had a good life. And I loved it. And I miss it. And yes – I want a baby more than I want that life. But I’m not sure how much longer I can stand having no baby and no life. I don’t like feeling frozen in place. On pause.

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