Family & flights & Florida & flushots and…Fluck

Things with me and the monsters are so far so good from what I can tell.  No spotting, no major symptoms other than very sore breasts and nipples and sometimes feeling a tugging or tightness or “muscle pull” from mah ladybizness when I turn over in bed in a weird way or twist my body around in an unusual manner.  Today is 5w1d.  1 week and three days until the official first-look ultrasound, but oh wait…didn’t I tell you about my insane horrible week?

The week was going along relatively fine, the film production was crazy but pretty stable.  Some fires being put out on a daily basis, but no majorly “out of control, evacuate the area” scenarios.  We achieved a pretty nice balance between me and the Associate Producer to make things easier on this “newly pregnant woman” when I got a phone message first thing Thursday morning from my SIL.  My brother had complained of shortness of breath while on a business trip in Florida, he was being rushed to the local emergency room.  By the time I picked up the message and talked to my mom, dad and sister-in-law the doctors diagnosed what happened.  He had a pulmonary embolism.  Due to a very long time sitting at the airport and on the plane, a blood clot formed in his leg.  A couple of days later, while he was out on a business trip in Florida, the clots dislodged and traveled through his heart and into both lungs.  It has bruised his heart and caused so much obstruction in his lungs he can barely breathe.  I found out the details of his condition at 11:15 am. 

My brother is married and has 4 kids ranging in age from 8 to 15.  His wife, while she wanted to come out to be with him, needs to be home and take care of the kids.  My mom is on kidney dialysis and can't travel, my dad just had an operation on his elbow and also has to take care of my mom.  It's just me and my brother.  We don’t have any other siblings.

I discussed options with MrBeep, who is very nervous about me travelling across the country, going through airports, hanging out in hospitals, etc. while being pregnant during flu season.  We weighed the pros and cons and discussed how my brother would require an escort to return to LA.  In the end we decided that I would go and try to be as careful as I possible.  I was on the plane from Seattle to Miami at 1:15 pm.  I arrived that evening 10:00 pm EST, grabbed a rental car and drove another couple of hours out her where I currently type.  Naples, FL. 

My brother is awake and mentally perfect.  My brother (MrBeep calls him “The Bro-ham”) is typically very healthy and as strong as a horse, now he can barely walk from his hospital bed to the bathroom and back without almost passing out due to lack of oxygen.  He is really scared and before I got here was totally alone in a place where we have no friends or family.  I am so glad that I was able to come out and give him some companionship and comfort.  The doctors are doing everything they can, but it is very frightening that you could be fine one minute and in a dire situation the next.

While I am here I am checking into getting both the seasonal and the H1N1 flu shots, but can’t find the H1N1 in the county so far.  The  local “help” line isn’t very helpful at all, the operator bordered on moronic.  I explained I was from far away, didn’t have a doctor or clinic and asked how I would find out who had the vaccine. She suggest that I visit a website that I explained I had already read and it gave no locations.  She suggested that I listen to the radio, but had no idea what station, etc., then she gave me a number for the county health department that was so old, it had a number change recording.  I will try to talk to my brother’s doctor tomorrow, but from what one of the floor nurses said, it sounds like even the staff at the hospital has not yet received vaccination for H1N1.  In another week I’m going to have to travel through 3 additional airports before heading back to Seattle.  I would really prefer to be vaccinated well before I have to travel again.

I have so much more to say, but I am so very tired…zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. *snort* WHA? Eh fluck, I’m off to sleep.  More on H1N1 and pregnancy tomorrow.  G’night.

Magic and miracles

From the bottom of my heart, and the top of my head, and the deepest reaches of my soul…

Thank you

Thank you so much for the good thoughts and prayers from yesterday.  I think they worked magic and miracles.  No matter what happens today, your comments and support helped set my mind at ease, my panicked self was calmed.

I woke up at 8:15 a.m. checked the *ahem* and no more pink.  I only got a little bit after a couple of checks last night after The Freakout that turned from a hint of pink to a hint of brown.  Maybe the prometrium tablet irritated my insides?  I was just heading off to the set and found the pink and I lost it.  It was just a little too perfect for the timing, y’know?  Yesterday was the first day AF was due to arrive and I am NEVER late.  I was getting those strange crampy symptoms right before the bitch comes for her visit.  All the tenderness in my breasts had suddenly disappeared.  It was all too much a coincidence, hence the freakout. I knew it wasn’t implantation bleeding since that can happen roughly 2-5 days after transfer.  Friday was 9dp5dt.

I had my awesome assistant Mike take over production/location management yesterday (he knows what is going on with me and gave me a big hug and told me to go home and take care of myself).  It was a very good idea because the gaffer and grip team showed up 2 hours late (just as I was leaving).  I had gotten into a minor argument with the Director of Photography and the 1st AD the day before about their scheduling.

Me: Why is the lighting team scheduled on the call sheets at the same time as everyone else?  They are often late and take the longest to set up.  I understand that they are pros and set up in a very reasonable amount of time given the complexity of what they do, but dangit.  Many times we are waiting on them and don’t start shooting ‘til 3-4 hours after call time.  Why aren’t they scheduled an hour earlier?  The actors who are getting here on time are pissed (justifiably so).

Their answer:  No they aren’t late and never hold up production.  You don’t know what you’re talking about.

Me in my brain yesterday: (2.5 hours after call time while the grip team is barely unloading) HA!  Suck it gentlemen!  Enjoy your late night, a-holes. I’m audi 5000.

I dropped off some legal paperwork, got a little footage for the behind the scenes the documentary, and was on my way. 

I came home and relaxed with MrBeep who calmed me and reassured me and made me feel a ton better.  He told me “don’t give up” and “stay positive for the monsters” and “you don’t know just yet” combined with his smile and his eyes and my heart was soothed.  How do they do that?  Love is so many things and I am lucky to know it…and MrBeep.

Today is a very very rainy day (even for Seattle).  I hydroplaned drove to the RE’s office this morning and gave my blood.  In that tiny vial it is my Answer.  Our Answer. 

What’s the buzz? Tell me whatsa happenin’

I’ve been on the micro-dose lupron protocol officially since Sunday.  I took small doses of lupron (.1 cc ) in the morning and evening on Sunday and Monday.  Then I had a quick ultrasound check on Monday to make sure the aspirated cyst was indeed gone and

<drumroll please>

WOOO HOOO it was nice and flat and deflated.  Both ovaries are showing no cysts and 10-15 follicles each, so hopefully I’ll have a “good crop”.  On Tuesday I continued the morning micro-dose of lupron but added a 375 unit dose of gonal-f.  In the evening I take another dose of lupron and 150 units of menopur.  That makes me stimming now for a couple of days.  I had no idea how I was doing until today when I had my first blood draw.  My E2 level is at 225, which I am told is good.  I go back for a (ugh!) 7:45 am appointment on Saturday to get another blood draw and an ultrasound.  Hopefully these eggs are baking along quite nicely.  Every day I take a prenatal vitamin along with a RE recommended low-dose aspirin -- my belly is black and blue from the injections and thin blood.  MrBeep looks at me, sticks out his lower lip and pouts on my behalf.  Then I get kisses and hugs and words of encouragement.  The menopur stings sometimes but other times it doesn’t at all.  I couldn’t tell you why.

On the “other parts of my life” front I am not accomplishing as much daily as I would like, but that’s just the way the cookie crumbles around here.  I need to finish a tremendously boring aspect of what I am doing right now and I know I’m procrastinating.  I’m getting just enough done to avoid total embarrassment…but it’s really not good enough.  I need to just get the damned thing out of the way.  Maybe tomorrow I will put my nose to the grindstone and not be distracted by…hey, look a  shiny thing in the corner of my eye <wander>. 

On more creative fronts, I received final copies of four Japanese children’s stories I helped rewrite with my friend and his mother.  My friend’s mother produces and records audiobooks in Japanese for the blind.  This year they decided to do some classic children’s folk tales with readings in both Japanese and English.  I received the first draft of four different stories from the Japanese version and rewrote them to add dialog and fix some of the awkwardness from the original transcripts.  I listened to the finished CDs for the first time on Wednesday and it was really fun.  They have asked me to do four more stories in the next few months.  Yay for fun and creative stuff to do!

High aspirations

Sorry I am writing so late.  I swear I am not doing this to build for dramatic tension.  I went in this morning for my blood work and follicle ultra sound and…

flucking
cyst
was
bigger

That’s right folks.  Now that I took a couple of extra days of birth control pills it has made the cyst a tiny bit bigger, by about a millimeter.  Nice huh?   DocO said that they would need to get the labs back and discuss options in their noon meeting.  They said that they would call and let us know whether they recommend delaying or aspirating the cyst.   I waited forever, then fell asleep on the couch when the phone rang at 4:15 p.m.  It was MrBeep wanting to know what the plan was.  I called the RE office and talked to Katie (I was next to call on her list, grumble grumble).  My E2 is even better (staying nice and low).  The plan is that I am going in tomorrow for a cyst aspiration about noon.  It is similar in prep to an egg retrieval and I have to get IV’ed and doped up a bit.  MrBeep will need to drive me home and be there in case I have any bad reactions to the medicine. 

After the aspiration, the plan is for me to start injecting micro-dose lupron starting on Sunday.  Finally, FINALLY I get to do something. 

There is so much going on right now.  mekate is going for egg retrieval tomorrow, K was retrieved today and should get her egg/fert report soon, Megan is holding out for a day 5 transfer hopefully on Friday, Pie is starting MDL a couple of days ahead of me (cycle buddy!), The Infertile Breeder (my friend from resolve boards) just got back a good 2nd beta after a first one that was a little scary.  Mad Hatter has given the finger to doctors who didn’t believe in the power of her ovaries and ovulated on her own.  She is currently in the 2WW.

Sprogblogger got heartbreaking news today, Shannon is remembering a sad anniversary, Sarah had devastating news this week too.  Please go give them all some support and love.

The universe is expanding, galaxies are spinning.  We are all along for the ride.  Love and hugs and magic sending out on the night’s wind and through the Seattle rain to you all.

Patience, reflection and time – Part 3

Then I did something I have never done before in my life.  I walked back into the house, poured two fingers of scotch and took it back to the chair in the garden.  Every time The Empty and The Ache boiled up trying to engulf me, I took a sip. It is a scary thing to fully realize what turns some people to drink.  The burning sensation of the scotch matched the feeling in my throat, pushing it back.  I needed to calm down, I needed time to process.  Pick them apart -- The Ache and The Empty.  Dissect each one.  They were so unfamiliar, too overwhelming.

Was I angry?  Angry because yet another person came before me?  Angry for being told this way?  Angry for feeling humiliated and crying in public?  Angry for being locked out of my friend’s life?  Angry for not being trusted?  Angry for being told that I wasn’t hopeful enough?

The honest answer is yes. However none of it was strong enough to cause my reaction, my total shutdown.  Anger was there, but it wasn’t the key.

How about Guilt?  Did I feel guilty because I didn’t jump up and down and squeal when I heard her great news?  Guilty because I didn’t tell her sooner how my IVF went?  Guilty because I didn’t push going to the RE sooner?  Guilty because I waited for surgery?  Guilty because I didn’t reveal MY true feelings to save HERS?

I have some guilt, but it’s mostly internal things about what I COULDA SHOULDA done to move things along quicker when I was younger.  But even these arguments break down because the time I waited gave extra time to MrBeep to fully come on board and really want a family with me.  I would rather have his extraordinary 100% support at 37, 38, 39, 40 than have 30% at 35.  So no.  The big empty ache was not guilt.

Shame?   Shame about my situation?  Shame over my reaction?  Shame at feeling this way and not keeping my shit under control? 

I do feel ashamed sometimes.  A bit.  I’m 40, maybe I’m too old to be a good mom.  I never wanted to be some tired old hag.  And there are children starving in remote countries while I am shelling out a fortune that could be feeding them instead.  But we all know the truth is you can’t take the whole weight of the world on your shoulders along with IF.  I have to finish working on this, my heart’s desire before I can give my heart to another cause.  I think overall I reacted well.  I am very, very happy for her – said so, acted so.  The truth is I was very worried she would realize how much she wanted a family when it was too late for her.  She is 39 and for some people it can be tough, if not impossible.  I’m glad she didn’t have any problems conceiving.  Given our earlier conversations, I suspect it took them 1-3 months.  I would never wish the pain, the grief that is infertility on ANYONE.  I was ashamed at being overwhelmed, but I knew it was not the reason for being overwhelmed.

Bitterness?  Oh my god.  Am I bitter?  Have I reached that horrible stage?  Has my heart truly blackened to that degree?

This is a place I fear.  I thought long and hard about this one.  What does bitterness truly feel like?  What precisely is it?  Intense hatred, rancor, resentment.  Feelings of malice and spite so intense as to overcome all of the goodness and joy in my heart.  That is bitterness to me.  I am NOT THAT.  Not now, hopefully not ever.

Jealousy or Envy?  Could I be jealous of my friend?  Have I let my desire to have what I want trump what I feel for another person who I love?  Do I think I deserve it more than her?  Would I have the audacity to believe something like that?

This is an interesting thing to think hard about.  We all say that we are jealous sometimes at a surface level, but if you dig down…are you really?  Does envy mean that you want what they actually have?  Something so strong, if you had the power you would take it away and keep it for yourself? I thought about this and realized…No.  I don’t want what she has.  I don’t want to be Her.  I don’t want Her life.  I don’t want Her husband.  I don’t want Her baby.  I want MY baby, OUR baby.  I want MY life with MY husband to include a family and if it can’t be MINE on MY terms…then I don’t want it at all.  I’m not trying to sound harsh.  I am not speaking for everyone.  I am expressing my own personal truth. 

In my heart, in my head, it has always been impossible for me to be jealous of other pregnant women because babies are not a limited supply item.  We don’t all get to stick our hands in a jar and pull out a marble.  If a girl comes up with a red marble, she gets and baby leaving fewer chances in the jar left for me.  There is no magic being that decides who gets one and who doesn’t.  Anyone’s success in getting pregnant and having a child is completely separate and independent of mine.  I will admit to a feeling of longing, wondering if it will ever happen for me.  That longing is not jealousy or envy and for me it is certainly not The Ache or The Empty.

Fear?  Worry?  Will this ruin my relationship with MrBeep?  What will go wrong next?  How many more months can my sanity take? Will I go through all this only to realize it will NEVER work?  Or that it worked but then having to suffer loss after loss?  When should I give up?  Will I still be here no farther on the journey another year from now?

As I went through the myriad of swirling feelings that accompany fear and worry, admitting just how scared I was to fail in the end, to lose my dream, The Ache started to release it’s strangling grip on my throat.  The fear and worry build up over time, trying to consume.  I want this thing, I do, but I also don’t want it to take away my joy.  I am so scared in the end to live with regret or pain.  I don’t want every friend with a family to avoid me. I don’t want to see families or children and feel a sense of loss each time.  Those tiny little bites will eventually eat away your soul. 

Truth is I can see no way to remove fear from my mind. No magic elixir to make me stop worrying about the future.  All I can do is stand and look fear straight in the eye.  See it for what it is, it’s dark shape, and try my best not to let it steal me away in the night, leaving an empty shell in my place.  I will use them, they will not use me.  I choose to use fear and worry as tools to make smarter choices that either take me to my goal or let me know when it’s clearly time to change the game.  I do not choose to give my life away to fear. I do not choose to be consumed with worry.  With that realization, The Ache faded to something small, still there, but not engulfing me. 

Sorrow?   

The Big Emptiness in my chest was still there as I considered sorrow.  Here was MY truth and I was gripped with an overwhelming sense of sadness.  I thought through it for a long time and finally recognized it’s cause.  It was TIME.  When I looked at M I plainly saw the physical reality of 7 months flash by in a second.  I felt more sorrow from her comments about knowing I was going to be pregnant soon and we would absolutely have our kids play together some day. I had the same conversations with another good friend.  We talked about how wonderful it would be to be pregnant at the same time, have our kids play together, etc.  Her son is now 8 months old.  Add that to her pregnancy and it was over 17 months ago.  I was empty and sad that so much time has flown by.  I have poured out so much of my soul only to have gone no where with less chance of success.  It saddened me more to think another year from now I could be in the same situation, a friend telling me how they knew it would happen for me and how my time was next.  How long must I stay in the recurring nightmare?  I also knew how sad I was to watch every year my statistical chances slipping away.  When I started this at 36, the chances for my clinic/age group for IVF were 49%.  At 38 they slipped to 39%.  At my next birthday (in 4 months) I will be in the group 41-42 where the general population’ chances list at 14%.  Being this age, still in this place is really fucking hard. 

I have heard all the stories from friends of how they knew of a woman who got pregnant at 42, her doctor gave them no chance to get pregnant on their own, etc.  I always tell them, “I know these stories are meant to give me hope, but the TRUTH is you only hear publically the story of the ones that worked.  The ten-people-in-a-hundred.  You don’t hear about the ninety others who wanted the same thing and tried their best but instead endured heartache and problems and sometimes, ultimately the loss of their dreams.  Those people suffer privately.  You don’t get babies because you deserve them or because it makes a good story.  It is largely luck and circumstance and dna.”  I do always end by telling them I appreciate their love, their understanding and all the good thoughts and prayers.  Those mean more than a thousand stories. 

Then it came to me.  My Big Emptiness represented the loss of hope.  I thought through the pain and sorrow.  Was I overcome?  Was I too sad at my prospects?  Was it time to give up?  Hope starts out as a bright shimmering light that slowly, eventually dulls and finally fades until it is gone.  Was it entirely gone?  Sitting in my garden, the wind beginning to blow the wind chimes from our wedding sang to me.  The sound hit my ears and woke me from my contemplation.  I knew I was not done on my path.  I knew I still have reasons to be optimistic, I still want to TRY.  I am not giving up yet.  I choose to SEE HOPE still in my journey.

To be completed in the next post, including my views on your comments - in Part 4.

Patience, reflection and time – Part 2

Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments.  They deserve a post of their own and will  get it in Part 3. This is continued where I left off from my prior post “Patience, reflection and time – Part 1.”  

As I started to cry down in the field, my dear friend M tried to comfort me.  She put her arms around me and held me tight.  She cried too and offered many words of encouragement.  “I know that we were destined to have families together.  Just think about it, we went back to school at the same time, we were laid off from our boring jobs at almost the same time – me first and then you a few months later, and I know you will be right behind me with your family.”  I nodded my head, dried my eyes (swearing to myself I wouldn’t cry that day in public again), put on a smile and said, “We’ll see.  I hope so too, that would make an amusing story to tell, wouldn’t it?”  We continued picking and talking for another thirty minutes.  I turned the conversation back to her, their baby and plans for the house and the future.  Eventually our little buckets were full, the blueberries weighed and paid for, then we headed out for lunch.

While eating lunch we talked about many things.  Eventually, she expressed how worried she was about telling me her news.  I gently admitted it was kind of hard for me to have a good friend who I confided in over the years suddenly show up 7 months along.  I understood why she waited but I thought it would have been easier knowing that she was at least trying.  She seemed slightly annoyed and upset at my confession (sting).  She admitted that they didn’t try for very long (another sting).  Then she started to tell me how I would be pregnant soon anyway and how we were going to have our kids play together, take day trips, go to the zoo, etc. 

I told M I wished she would be right, but I didn’t know.  The odds over the years were starting to creep against me and this was making me terribly afraid.  She became a little frustrated, but smiled anyway and hugged me as she was leaving.  She encouraged me to stop being pessimistic, stop being so scientific, looking at odds and statistics.  I needed to have a little more faith in the magic that it would happen.  She knew because she has a great feeling about this and that I’ll see.  “That’s not quite fair” I told her, “I was very much full of hope in the beginning, but realistic expectations must have a place too.  After a while, if you don’t do that, you will absolutely break down.  The potential lifts you up and every month, then the failure crashes you down.  You have not watched your chances slip as each birthday passes.  You have not walked the years and years in my shoes, on my path.  I appreciate the prayers, good hopes, faith and optimism of all my friends.  Wish very very hard for me.  I do too, but respect also my need to protect my heart.” 

She nodded as she got into her car, but she did not understand, and that’s OK.  She doesn’t need to.  I knew I had a cadre of people who unfortunately do understand.  Who appreciate my situation in a unique way and in that I NEVER feel alone.  If if weren’t for this blog, the ALI community, I wouldn’t have made it through that day with a shred of integrity or grace.  So many of you are my heroes, for your kindness, your perseverance, your intelligence, your wit.

I drove home in utter silence, playing the day over in my mind.  No tears hit my eyes.  All I felt was a load of cotton in my throat and a big ball of empty in my chest.  I needed to be home.  I was tired of being in public.  I wanted the opportunity to process all this in solitude. I finally got home, walked down to my garden, sat right next to my wind chimes and waited for the wave of emotion to crash over me.  The tears to come.  The understanding to begin.

It didn’t crash.  No tears came.  I didn’t understand.

All I felt was The Ache.  The Big Empty.  My throat jammed with cotton, each swallow like razorblades. I sat there, unmoving for two hours, trying to understand what The Ache was.  Exactly how and what I truly felt.  I didn’t know.  I searched my mind, my heart, my soul.  The puzzle didn’t fit. What was this empty, cold feeling in my chest?  Anger? Guilt? Worry?  Shame?  Fear?  Bitterness? Jealously? Sorrow? I truly didn’t know.

continued in Part 3…

How to make a fool out of yourself in 1 easy lesson

Step 1:  Publicly declare your frustration and disdain of Ovulation Predictor Test Kits.

Step 2:  Pee on said stick.

Step 3:  Get relatively easy to read and predicted results.

Step 4:  Look like a fool. 

 

Fine.  You only cost a freaking fortune, I guess that’ll teach me a lesson.  Stupid pee stick.  :-p 

I h8 OV Peesticks. Sistahs, can I get an amen?

I just really, really hate OV predictor peesticks. I don't trust the digital ones because I need to see that little bit of pink getting darker and darker but it never seems to look like the example picture on the freaking box. The added bonus is since I took birth control pills for my delayed IVF cycle, I had "breakthrough bleeding" which is not exactly like a normal menstrual cycle and now I can't remember what should be the first day and so I have no idea whether today is day 11, 12, or 13. Why don't they work for me? Is it because I am old? Decrepid? Wrong brand? I even went out of my way to drink only a few glasses water instead of my ususal liter.

AAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Thank goodness for other *ahem* bodily indicators or else I would be screwed. I'm thinking OV should happen in the next couple of days so it's time to enjoy the delights of GOF**. I am not smart like MeKate and didn't bother to check my basal body temp this month because well I was supposed to be monitored by doctors and taking complex drug regimes and IVFified and wah wah wah wee wee wee. Feh.

An extra special "you are so wonderful" to everyone who offered such nice comments and advice on my last post on waiting a month. I was upset and nervous. You all made me feel warm and among understanding friends. Thank you.

** happily and blatently stolen from the awesome Kvetch Board of IndieBride/IndieMom. I even posted an article on how to conjugate GOF as a verb. GOF = Goal Oriented Fucking (waaaayyyyyyy better than the disgustingly syrupy sweet term "babydance" which makes me shudder and gag any time I hear/read it.