There appears to be a pink ghost in our house tonight.

Ladies, we hereby present to you another thumbnail to click on and examine in all its oversized glory:

We see pink. Do you? Seriously?

And no, we aren’t getting a digital until at least tomorrow. Because DIGITAL TESTS ARE SCARY and we aren’t there yet!!

OMG.

introducing… we can has baby?

Sorry, but I (jay) really couldn’t resist.

The great pink peestick countdown begins! i.e. all we need to do now is wait for vee to wee – hey, that rhymes – when her four hours are up. And we need to do something else to stop going crazy in the meantime.

(With apologies to Lolc@ts)

Muddy water.

Hmm.

Really, we’re still no clearer.

I guess we’ve entered Early Testing Hell.

We tested again this morning and the ghost kind of came back(for those with TTC eyes anyway). It was there within the 10 minutes. Jay thinks it was darker than yesterday within the timeframe. But now it’s pretty much gone, unless I will myself really hard to see it. It’s certainly not photo-worthy. And that’s not really supposed to happen, is it?

We are both very disappointed not to have a more definite positive and simultaneously relieved not to have an absolute negative either.

Perhaps this is just a really slow trigger shot exit. ( I had 5000iu on 16th June (trigger before egg collection) and another 2000iu on 23rd as my luteal phase support.) Cali says unlikely though, and we all know Cali rocks.

On the plus side, no blood, no spotting and no more periody cramping.

More testing later I guess. In a different colour.

vee xxx

Neutral. [*Now with added ghost photo]

So this is the part where we ask you to please not get excited.

No, really, no excitement! Please.

Today is 11DPEC and we did a test because yesterday was so shit and we were on tenterhooks all day, waiting and waiting and trying to find things to distract ourselves with (shopping, DIY, cooking and the L Word) and doing more waiting. Every time we ran out of distractions, one of us would either start crying or plunge into depression or both.  To make things even better, vee was feeling periody – no blood, but periody nevertheless. It was crap.

We talked about serious things like how we are going to work to raise the cash for the next IVF if this one doesn’t work, and how we are going to get through it mentally and emotionally.  And how we are going to basically keep ourselves sane. So part of that Sanity Plan Aim was that this morning, we would test with vee’s first morning wee, just so that today would be better, because we might KNOW. So instead of feeling crap and jittery and on tenterhooks and worried, then we would just feel like shit, but we would know what to do.

Because we were gonna get a BFN, right?

And we did. MAYBE.

Yeah, ladies, we got one of those squint in the right light and maybe you will see it kind of tests. Vee said I wasn’t allowed to say that last thing but I ignored her because it was true. She peed on the stick:

Me: We’re going to get a negative, right?

Vee: Well, that’s what we’ve got.

And then she showed me the stick but we were in bed and the light was a bit dim and so I took it to the window and I looked and I saw the very, very faint line. Even vee couldn’t argue that it was there. But yeah it was there, ever so faintly, as like the minimum faintness you could imagine. I’m wittering, sorry. And then it went. And then it came back again, but differently, and kind of more faded but stronger on one side like a very, very thin pencil line. And no, we haven’t taken any photos, because to document all that, really you would need to film it and then stick it on YouTube and everyone would die of boredom. But yeah.

And please don’t say “a line’s a line!” because it isn’t really a line. It’s kind of like a ghost.  We won’t be surprised if vee gets her period, but if not we’ll test again tomorrow, and hopefully the ghost will revisit us, stronger this time.

But today we don’t feel shit, we feel neutral. And that’s so much better than feeling shit, right?

EDITED TO ADD:

OK, so here’s a photo of the ghost (it’s a thumbnail so if you click on it, it should get bigger)… still very ghostlike, kind of how it looked when we first tested. However, ironically, the line is now thinner and darker. But as everyone knows, it’s impossible to take a photo of a HPT. And of course, it’s wayyyyy after our 10 minutes were up, so it’s invalid now anyway.

Still no excitement allowed!

The Waiting…

This time,  the TWW seems to be going very quickly,  but at the same time it seems harder for some reason.  We are fraught with worry, yet we are cool.  We’re crazy but we’re OK.  We’re both hopeless and hopeful. I want to blog, but I don’t want to blog.  Ignore me.

The fact that I kept us awake for an hour last night with period pains (no alarm! this is jay typing!) did not help. My period is so heavy and gross this time, I sincerely hope I’m bleeding for the both of us.  There’s certainly enough, anyway.  I feel like the life’s been sucked out of me.

God, this is turning into a mega-moan, when it wasn’t meant to be. At the end of the day, vee is either pregnant or she isn’t, which (in my tired, illogical, needy mind) makes it a 50/50 chance that she is. And if she isn’t, the sky won’t fall in. We’ll gather ourselves up and somehow find the money to do this IVF thing again, and just carry on. Because that’s what we do, isn’t it people? We carry on.

On a brighter note (!)  today, vee cried at this video (which is a BB task remake of this brilliance).  She didn’t know why.

I think we will be having Thai takeaway for dinner tonight. I am quite sure it will make The Waiting seem just that bit shorter.

xxjay

‘O’ dear!

Hmm – you know that no sex thing?  The whole “orgasms will kill your embryos” bit?  Well somebody forgot to tell my subconscious (or should that be my unconscious?).  Let’s just say my dreams last night were VERY sweet. *coughs*

[Note from jay: I am sulking.]

I did have an Egg McMuffin to try and counteract any ill effects. That’s the first time I’ve been into Mackie-D’s for about 10 years.  Corporate hatred.  I feel slightly ashamed now to confess that I enjoyed my muffin.  But I did.  It made a nice change from pineapple.

Anyhow, with the mood I’m in today, none of this will change anything, because today I feel certain that this couldn’t possibly work for us anyway.  I mean, it’s US, right?  Nothing works for us.  Not the first time of asking, that’s for sure.

But then, I don’t suppose thinking that will make the blindest bit of difference – by now, it’ll either have worked, or it won’t have. My mind just has to wait to find out the truth my body already knows.

vee xxx

Doctor’s Orders

In the UK, the word of the men (and women) in white coats is pretty much taken as gospel. It’s only through the IVP window that I’ve seen the alternative of well informed patients discussing things with their doctors and coming to a joint agreement on a course of treatment. A welcome eye opener.

Nowhere is this British attitude more evident than on UK based message boards, where posters are constantly exhorted NOT to test early, but to wait until the official test day their doctor has set them.

My official test day is 7th July. A full 19 days after egg retrieval and 17 days after transfer. WHAT?! Chances of me waiting that long? Zero. I’d expect my period (if it’s coming) by the 1st or 2nd, so if we make it that far, I may crack open that test.

And it WILL be an HPT. Our clinic does not offer betas, though they will do a blood test for pregnancy if we wish to drive a two hour round trip to get it then wait for the call.

The other thing my doctor has advised is no “sexual intercourse” until the outcome of treatment is known. How British not to go into more detail. What exactly is the problem? Penetration? Orgasm? The bumping of swollen ovaries? I don’t really know what to think about that one. Do you?

vee xxx

wild abandon

For me, it is rather too early to get too excited that vee (who is currently lying asleep next to me, looking impossibly beautiful and peaceful) might be pregnant.  Hope is kind of like a luxury that I try to ration carefully, despite vee reminding me that hoping for a baby this time wouldn’t make me more sad if she gets her period.  She is right. But anyway, I am careful. And I am delighted that the IVP is embracing this with much abandon and excitement, kind of like a backup electricity generator, cheerfully and reliably providing power during a blackout.

That last part sounded way less flattering than I meant it to! You ladies are THE COOLEST.

But anyway, abandon. Consider these facts:

1. Vee reminded me to buy a pineapple from the co-op on Thursday, before we knew if we’d definitely get to transfer or not. We did, and have just bought another one because Melody made me panic that we wouldn’t have enough. Just in case, right?
2. Optimistically, vee paid for her post-transfer acupuncture sesh in advance. She did not need to ask for a refund.
3. On the same day, compelled by mysterious and scary forces, I bought a book, which is now safely in the cupboard with the bootees. Granted, we both love that book and have said in the past that we would like to buy one for our future kid(s), but I have no idea why the said mysterious and scary forces made me pick it up and take it to the counter, like I was in some kind of robotic trance, and then stumble out of the shop, thinking “OMG, WHAT HAVE I DONE?!” as if I was 15 and had just bought my first pack of cigarettes. No comment.
4. Then, today, I was on Freecycle, trying for the second time to rid us of an unwanted suitcase, when I saw an ad from a woman offering up some baby things including a Clearblue pregnancy test which was near its use by date. Half-heartedly, I emailed her, thinking it was probably already gone. She’s dropping it off tomorrow. OMG.

No idea what any of that means. I just know that I hope numbers 3 and 4 come in useful. And soon.

xxjay

…and then there were two.

Well, they’re in and we’re home safe!

Waiting for the phonecall this morning was unbearable. In the end, Jay made me ring them at 9am, in the hope they would know before we set out and they did, thank goodness.

Two of them did their thing overnight. The third did not cleave for some reason, so was discarded, negating the need for us to debate whether or not we should splash out and pay to have it frozen. The two good ones were both 2 cell (if I remember correctly) with very little fragmentation and the embryologist said that they were Level 2 (with our clinic grading them 1 to 4 with 1 being the best).

We were lucky enough to have our favourite nurse doing the scanning and our favourite doctor doing the transfer itself. Lucky too that it didn’t hurt, especially since I couldn’t get my hands on any Valium, Scarredbellybutton, though thanks for the suggestion. My bladder was so full by the time we finally got in there, it wouldn’t all fit on the scanner screen. I don’t know why, but I’m inordinately proud of that fact! I wasn’t offered the chance to stay lying down afterwards, and I’m not sure I could have held off dashing for the loo anyway, so I’m hoping my leap off the theatre table and dash down the hall didn’t dislodge either of them. Ruined by a piss – that would be too sad.

Most of all I feel lucky to have you wonderful people out there, cheering us at every turn and hoping so hard for us, even when it hurts too much to hope for ourselves. Seriously, you are the BEST!

And now we wait. My, it feels like a long time since we subjected ourselves to that particular form of torture!

It looks like we will be needing that pineapple we bought after all! Lucky jay bought it.

vee xxx

Post-retrieval weirdness, acupuncture and other stories.

Today has been an oddly empty day, full of weirdness and distraction. Though the news that three of our five eggs had fertilised was a welcome relief this morning, there was no rush of euphoria – more a small squeak. Even the nurse on the phone sounded a little irritated with me when she repeated, “But three of them have fertilised, which is brilliant news, isn’t it?” only to be met with a surly, “Well I won’t be getting excited until I hear from you again tomorrow confirming the transfer will go ahead. I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed until then.”

Perhaps it’s that they’re out of my body that’s making me feel odd about it? I’ve been trying to meditate every day this last week or so, using my Prepare to Conceive CD and having embryos an hour down the motorway played havoc with my visualisation today. I should really have splashed out on the IVF version (the one I’m using was bought in more optimistic times).

And then the acupuncture session was odd too, mostly because I had a replacement practitioner. He was ok, but went about things differently. I don’t cope that well with different. I am grateful though that he can fit me in tomorrow when I come back from the transfer (thanks Gold Star and Scarred Bellybutton for the advice on that one).

Physically I feel fine. OK, it feels like somebody fucked with my ovaries, but it’s totally bearable. Kind of like period pain, but in the wrong place. I’m still slightly disturbed by the memory I have of trying to talk through the oxygen mask to tell them I could feel it and they were hurting me, but then I think they must have just given me another blast of the sedative, as I remember nothing after that until I awoke.

We’ve both been able to fuss and fret over another patient today, taking our mind off things. Mr B, the big ginger tom who decided to attach himself to us recently, went in for a full dental treatment today and came home in a very pissed off mood, minus 3 teeth. Poor baby. He’s still a little groggy from the anaesthetic, but wants BADLY to go outside and is not taking our refusal very well. He’s extra mad that we keep laughing at him because he now looks a little goofy. We don’t know how his teeth got into such a state in the first place, as he’s quite young, (the mysteries of stray animals) but they should be better now. Well, the ones he has left should be!

So that’s us. Empty and distracted and trying to keep vacant brains. But also eerily calm. Especially me. I guess the meditation and the acupuncture must have done some good.

Pre- and post-transfer pearls of wisdom, anyone?

Oh, and by the way, the chances of triplets is zero – they’ll only transfer a maximum of two. I’d take two though. Or one.

vee xxx

Three is the magic number!

Well, it is in our house, today at least. Three of the little beggars fertilised. I actually grow eggs and they can fertilise! How about that?

We’re provisionally booked for transfer at 10:45am tomorrow morning, though we won’t know for sure that the embryos are suitable to go ahead with until around 9:30am. The seriously bad thing about this is that we will have already had to set off for the clinic before we get this phone call. We both feel a little sick at the thought of having to turn round halfway there and head home if it’s bad news.

But it won’t be, right? Because these underembryos are IVP powered.

Never thought I’d say it, but I can’t wait for the TWW – it can’t possibly be as insanely anxiety ridden as this stage. Please, please let us make it to the TWW.

vee xxx

Five!

The underfollicles surpassed themselves and five eggs were retrieved.  Five!  When vee expressed surprise, one of the nurses said, “oh, that’s the bonus ball.”

So keep your fingers and toes and everything elses crossed that they fertilise.

We’ll know by 11am (UK time obviously) tomorrow.

Woo!!

xxj

All is not lost!

Well, I didn’t want to let jay’s post title go to waste and things DO feel a little less desperate today, so it seemed appropriate.

Whilst my ovaries have not undergone some kind of miraculous transformation hitherto unimagined by the scientific community and produced a veritable hoarde of plump follicles for harvesting, the four teeny follicles that they did manage to squeeze out have developed nicely over the weekend and are approaching a workable size (20, 18.5 and 2 at 17). My lining has also got its act together.

This means that….[drum roll]….we trigger tonight at 11:30pm and are scheduled for egg collection at 9am Wednesday morning.

I’m doing my best to ignore the sneaking suspicion that Thursday would have been a better option (except the clinic don’t do retrievals on Thursdays – only day of the week they don’t). I’m also trying not to be irritated that the acupuncturist I’ve been passed over to whilst mine is off work can’t fit me in for an appointment beforehand (though he did manage to shoehorn me in on Wednesday afternoon – acu experts, what’s good scheduling around EC/ET please?).

So all is not lost. Three cheers for the underfollicles. We’re backing them all the way.

vee xxx

woo!

Feast your eyes on our fab new header, created by the wonderful Calliope.  Gypsy got one and we were jealous, so copied Gypsy and asked for our own. After all, imitation is the finest form of flattery, right?

In other news, we had a lovely 5th anniversary meal out last night at a local vegetarian restaurant. The rest of the weekend has involved concentrated distractions in the form of gardening, walking a long way, shopping for a new BBQ (yay!) and cooking. Oh, and the only duvet hiding has involved sex.

Tomorrow is not a day we are looking forward to, but least we’re prepared for the worst. Well, we think we are. Obviously we don’t want the worst to happen but this is us..!

Joking.

Keep them crossed.

xxjay

another kick in the teeth

Jay wanted me to call this post ‘all is not lost’ but I’m not quite there yet.

Today’s scan brought more dismal news. I currently have just 3, possibly 4, follies growing in there. Not exactly a stellar performance, is it? And yes, we know, it only takes the one, yadda yadda, but having so few is going to mean that each and every hurdle left in front of us – collection, fertilisation, development, transfer, freezing – they’re all going to be so much more treacherous and difficult to clear now.

Our favourite nurse did the scanning. We love her for her humour and her upbeat manner, but mostly we love her for her lack of sugar coating. She said that my last blood results were ‘dismal’ and that she was very disappointed not to see lots more follicles growing, especially given my age. She blamed the buserelin under her breath and told us to go and do something nice over the weekend. Does hiding under the duvet count?

It’s hard not to be horribly disappointed, but there’s nothing that can be done to change it.

I really hope we don’t have to do this all again. Just because we know we can deal with it, doesn’t mean we should have to , right?

vee xxx

Edited to add: Just had the post blood test call. They’ve told me to reduce my FSH jabs from 450iu down to 375iu tonight, 300iu tomorrow and 225iu on Sunday, then back for another scan on Monday morning. I’m sure we’ve been told they won’t stim me for more than 14 days, which gives me until next Thurday. What is reducing the dose going to do? Are they trying to let us down gently? I didn’t even bother asking for the E2 numbers, the nurse on the phone sounded so disheartened.

I’m SO over it. For now, anyway.

Today’s reproductive health update: vee keeps rubbing her bloat, saying her ovaries feel “weird” and “heavy”, which has gotta be good, right? We like good. However, it wasn’t so good earlier when I interrupted vee’s meditation at the WRONG (unbeknownst to me) moment – after a bit of a dilemma, it has to be said – when I saw a woodpecker outside and so had to tell her because she’s been looking for that woodpecker in vain for months, and I was worried she’d kill me if I didn’t share. Bloody thing flew off before she got to the window! I’m sorry again, darling. Agh. I’m over it.

Today’s mental health update is kind of longer winded. The short version is, again, I’m over it. Over what, exactly? I’m not quite sure.

I realised this yesterday when I was driving to pick up vee from the station. Someone had just told me that no less than three other people we know IRL are pregnant, one for the sixth time. Yes, the sixth – you’d think she had enough by now, eh? Some people. But you know what? I was fine. Hell, I was even happy for one of them. Proper happy. And I was happy to be me. I felt invincible. Like nothing could touch me. And that felt – and still feels – GOOD.

I honestly don’t know how that happened and certainly didn’t see it coming, but hey, I’m not complaining. After telling vee, we worked out that possibly it’s one of the stages of “The TTC Journey” [barf], and has kind of come about because, well, you can’t stay hysterical forever. Besides, all* the worst case scenarios have happened, and now that they’ve passed, life just seems easier to deal with. (*OK, not ALL of them, but can we take this in small chunks, please?)

In short, I think my brother having his accidental daughter battered the last bit of irrational TTC hysteria out of me.

And yeah, I’ll probably take all of that back next week at some point, but it certainly is a weird, pleasing realisation. Especially when I think back to the year or so before we started TTC, which I spent frozen in speechless desperation, WANTING a child SO much and not knowing what the fuck to do about it. Vee spent most of that year with her head stuck in TTC books, and on FF, and doing other logical stuff, waiting patiently until my freeze thawed and, well, here we are now.

And then there was the part where we shook our fists in anger at the universe – accompanied, as ever, by you all, and exploded in rage at the injustice of fertility. This was coupled by jealousy of anyone else IRL who dared produce offspring. Finally, of course, there were the occasional panics that IT JUST WOULDN’T WORK and WE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO and IT WASN’T FAIR and OMG, WE COULDN’T TAKE ANY MORE.

Life hasn’t exactly been fun, fun, fun for the last three years or so.

So how did I get to the invincible part? Like I said, I have no idea. I feel almost annoyingly smug about my new found peace and happiness. I feel safe in the realisation that one day it IS going to happen. We have a Plan B, we have a Plan C, we even have a Plan D and jeesh, we can go right down to Z if we have to. Most importantly, I have vee, and I wouldn’t swap her for the world.

Hopefully the next stage in this “TTC Journey” [barf] will be pregnancy.

That will be brilliant.

xxjay

Not what we wanted to hear

Dear Ovaries,

Get your fucking act together, you hear me? We’re chucking VERY expensive drugs at you every day at the moment; the least you could do is get a wriggle-on and start producing some eggs. We’re not doing this for fun you know. Get to it!

vee & jay

Yep, my bloods this morning brought a disappointing result. My E2 numbers were “still a bit on the low side” apparently. So low that they aren’t going to bother to see me again until Friday, when I’ll get more blood taken and I *finally* get a scan! (Remind me again what exactly it is that we’re paying for?) I know it’s only been 3 days on the stims so far, but they were clearly expecting more to be happening, as we’d been primed to be ready to come in again either tomorrow (Tuesday) or Wednesday. Please don’t let this be heading for the plug hole. Success stories from similarly unspectacular beginnings are welcome. Please leave your comments below.

vee xxx

Edited to add: I just called them back. I couldn’t live with not knowing the numbers. According to the nurse I just spoke with, that’s the Scorpio in me! Our clinic always seem reluctant to give them out without prompting, and I’m usually too British to prompt. My E2 was 61.7. They would have liked to have seen it in the low hundreds. I’m under instruction not to panic yet – apparently lots of women come back to find their levels have shot up nicely. Please let me be lots of women.

our scattegories!

Copying Cali – woo! It is indeed hard! Especially the bathroom part!

Use the first letter of your first name to answer each of the following. They have to be real places, names, things – nothing made up. You can not use your own name for the boy/girl names.

1. What is your name? Jay
2. A 4 letter word: jump
3. A vehicle: jeep
5. A boy’s name: Jarvis
6. A girl’s name: Jennifer
7. Drink: juice (too easy!)
8. An occupation: janitor
9. Something you wear: jumper
10. A celebrity: J Lo
11. Something found in a bathroom: juice (when taking the above beverage in with you when you’re having a bath. it’s true!)
12. Reason for being late: jaywalking
13. Something you shout: Jesus!
14. A body part: joint
15. Word to describe yourself: juvenile, sometimes

1. What is your name? vee
2. A 4 letter word: vain
3. A vehicle: Vauxhall Astra
5. A boy’s name: Vincent
6. A girl’s name: Veronica
7. Drink: V-8
8. An occupation: Veterinarian
9. Something you wear: V-necked jumper
10. A celebrity: Vinnie Jones
11. Something found in a bathroom: vitamins
12. Reason for being late: vandalism
13. Something you shout: victory!
14. A body part: VAGINA!
15. Word to describe yourself: valiant

Hurdling

Vee just got a call from the clinic to say that she’s downregged enough and can start the stims today. Fucking phew. That’s another hurdle out of the way.

Egg retrieval is probably going to be w/c 16th June, with embryo transfer two days later. I can’t quite believe I’m typing this. I hope all the other hurdles are cleared and umm – obviously – that vee gets pregnant. That isn’t too much to ask, right?

Talking of asking too much, we were a bit put out that vee only gets a scan next Friday, despite the fact we have to go in for bloods every two days – we’ve shelled out plenty, so you’d think it would cover a couple of measly scans. Apparently not. How very economical and British.

If I sound deflated, it’s because we were up at 5am to dodge traffic, sheep (yes, two) and rural surroundings. I’m not really deflated – I’m delighted, in a cautiously suspicious way… though it’s kind of easier just to think of this as a hugely complicated and more expensive IUI.

In fact, I can’t think about it at all unless I break it down into wee small chunks which can be kept at arms length, as if they might bite, and be considered carefully and slowly, one by one, in the correct order.

O for a simple life!

xx jay

Party, our house, 9pm!

Hurrah! Big Brother 9 starts TONIGHT! Jay and I can’t wait to get stuck into this year’s serving of shamefully exploitative, mind-numbing drivel. There’s nothing like a bit of reality TV to take yourself right out of your own sad reality. I’m planning to get myself hooked up to the live feed and surfing on the forums during the rest I’ll need to take after egg collection. Bring it on!

I’m going through a bit of a scared patch with this IVF thing at the moment. I joined a UK messageboard for women doing IVF in May and June and there are 5 women on there who have had cancelled cycles already, with 2 more looking touch and go at the moment, with OHSS looming. We’ve had low responders and over responders and failure to fertilise and failure to develop. Admittedly, there are 62 of us on there, so statistically you’d expect this to happen to some of us, but I’m having trouble embracing the logical and getting the disaster scenarios out of my head. The really twisted part of me keeps thinking that if we end up getting cancelled for whatever reason, then there’s half a chance we could afford to try again sometime this side of my 40th birthday, because at least we’d get refunded for the portion of treatment we hadn’t yet had. If the whole thing goes through and I’m just one of the unlucky majority that doesn’t get or stay pregnant, then we’ll be £4000 down the pan and every time I think of how much that is, and how long we’ll have to save to be able to try again, I start feeling panicky and short of breath.

Hence Big Brother – a bit of mental shutdown. Marx was wrong. Or maybe just now out of date. I think TV is the opium of the people.

vee xxx