Another Day

Well, it's another no good cycle. I've really never felt so discouraged. I was really, really hoping that this time it would work out - and the due date, incredibly, would have been very close to our son's birthday. And I thought - wouldn't that be funny! And cool! And crazy! And I started making plans. I started thinking about this little girl (because I've decided that we're going to have a girl, yes, I know) . . . that she's going to be really spunky and independent and a wonderful, delightful handful. I started thinking about how I'm going to need to plan for the time off . . . and how we really need to start putting money aside. And then I worried about the Boy and how he would handle it. And then it didn't happen. Again. So, back to clomid. Another round. Another added three million pounds (clomid is not good for my waist line. Either that or I'm just plain eating too much. Obviously it's the clomid). Deep sigh. This is getting ridiculous. Onward and upward!

Oh, Le Sigh

I tested at 9 DPIUI and got a faint positive. I was excited. I was happy. Then I looked at the Boy and felt a little sad at what life is going to be like for him soon - how will he handle a sibling? Will he be OK? Did we make the right decision? Then today, totally negative. Snow white negative. So, probably the HCG was still in my system from the trigger shot but I'm hoping that I still have a chance so I'm going to keep testing. As much as I worried about The Boy, I was totally excited about the prospect of numero dos. So . . . we shall see. Waiting game. As usual.

And . . . we're back!

We did four IUIs last year and . . . nothing happened. Nothing. I thought, "Hey, maybe we're OK as a family of three!" And really, I am OK. But then I told my mother that it was pretty likely that we were only going to have one, that we tried and it didn't work and that I was totally OK with it . . . and then I burst into tears. Unexpectedly. It caught me completely off-guard. So, I'm back at it again. Doctor Superman's plan is to do an IUI twice, if necessary and if that doesn't work, we move onto the big guns, IVF. Yikes. So, here I go, rolling the dice again. Oh, also, I thought I'd completely screwed up this entire cycle because I told Doctor Superman the completely wrong day as "day one". Whoops. According to the nurse it's OK because they monitored me, etc., etc., but this probably explains why the right follicle was strangely ENORMOUS and the left one was normal. So . . . they're pretty sure that if I do get P* this time around it's from the left side. Good to know.

In other news, I'm really old. Like, really old. I'm getting really, really old. So, this is kind of it for us - if this doesn't work out, we really have to throw in the towel. In other news! I have a lipoma on my back! And arthritis in my knees! Yes, getting older is as glamorous as it sounds! If you're lucky, you two can be plagued with non-cancerous lumps on your back and rickety knees! I really shouldn't complain, I feel pretty normal for my "advanced maternal age" and MOST people (except for my pre-pubescent interns) guess that I am wayyy younger than I actually am. Convinced yet? Yeah, neither am I.

*I hate to sound like a 5-year old but I can't bare to say it . . . not yet.

Defeat

So, I tested last night at 9 dpiui and it was a big old negative. Tested this morning, negative. Although it's early, I again don't feel like this one is going to work out. I'm feeling fairly un-pregnant. Doctor Superman gave me about a 12-15% chance with each cycle due to my age. Yikes. If I'm really "clogged up" (a phrase I frankly loathe) I don't know that I can even have a hysterosalpingogram (HSG) again to verify - as I've already had three (there's a limit due to the radiation exposure). I'm not really sure what the next step will be - I've already had four rounds of Clomid (one with a former RE). Clomid and an IUI again? I'm frankly sick of it (I know it's only been two times) but I'm not supposed to run for two weeks while we wait which is totally horrendous (and I believe, completely unnecessary but I follow it anyway). And then there's the whole Lovenox fun, too. The progesterone suppositories I don't really care about - it makes me feel more pregnant than not (soreness, etc.) but it's not really that big of a hassle (although I do kind of debate its efficacy in my case - since I used it in three (?) of my failed pregnancies).

In other news, my son's daycare is "concerned" with his "poor" pronunciation. I went to his pediatrician, fully expecting him to be nonplussed by the whole thing but instead he gave me the number for a specialist to have him evaluated. I suppose that is sound, but it worries me to no end and was not what I expected. It also makes me start wondering about dyslexia - which runs in my family. Could he be dyslexic? That's a very real possibility. Although the family members who are dyslexic are all very accomplished and intelligent people, it certainly made things like school more challenging. Plus the stigma alone is terrible . . . . In my experience not being able to understand a two year old all of the time is pretty normal. But perhaps that is not true at all.

Back to the waiting game.

Oh, Clomid

So, even though I was supposed to go in for a blood test, I didn't. It seemed, well, silly. So, I didn't. And then I called on "day three" because I couldn't bring myself to call before that. I've been finding myself resisting a lot - in fact, we first started discussing having a second one LAST YEAR. It took me this long to get the courage to start trying again. If I'm completely honest as to why I've been gun shy, there are two reasons: 1) I don't want to have another miscarriage and 2) I don't want to have another miscarriage. If I never get pregnant again, GUESS WHAT? No miscarriage. But I do want a second child. I see babies and I sigh a great sigh. When we were discussing whether or not to have another - and I voiced my opinion that maybe I was fine with just one, my husband said, "If we don't have a second, we could get rid of all our little one's old clothes!" Sometimes the husband boggles my mind. Boggles. Yep, that sounds like as good a reason as any to NOT have a second child - less stuff. Sigh. The Husband is going a bit crazy lately with our living situation. Honestly I am completely fine with it. We live in a large one bedroom and if he would let me do the things that I would like to do (which he won't without a huge battle royale) we could live quite happily. I don't understand this obsession with bigger, bigger, bigger, mcmansions, etc. I lived in Europe in high school (exchange student) and was completely blown away by my host family: they had one small, beautiful apartment in the city and one country house. They only had what they needed, nothing more, nothing less. And what they had was beautiful and cherished. My problem is that I haven't quite gotten that equation down - I have a lot of stuff, which as I mentioned, is driving the Husband batty. Which is driving me batty and so on (which by the way, means that if we are lucky enough to have a second bambino, I will relent and agree to move). Anyway, so, back to the point: I'm on 100mg of Clomid. ONE HUNDRED. WHAT?!?! This would scare me, except that last time I had three really good size-y follicles and then . . . nothing. NOTHING. I'm shocked, frankly. And a little worried about what this means. All three eggs were duds? Duds! THREE! Three duds? This makes me a tad concerned about the quality of my eggs - which I would imagine has a lot to do with my now advanced maternal age. ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE. Or could it mean that the eggs weren't even released at all? I mean, I had to be cleaned out in November. Could it be clogged up again? Anyway, I go in to see Doctor Superman on Tuesday and I imagine I'll have IUI #3 this Saturday. It's very strange and also very different, to be back here again. Until then.

Negatory

So, I tested (because I couldn't wait) on 10 days post IUI (10DPIUI) and it was negative. Tested again this morning, 11DPIUI, and again, negative. And wow, when it's negative IT REALLY IS NEGATIVE. No matter how many times I flipped that thing in different light it was still COMPLETELY, UTTERLY, NEGATIVE. I know that it's early, but I'm not feeling too positive - except for the soreness in that one area, you know the one, (which is likely from the progesterone supplementation) I'm not feeling it. On the other hand, the Husband found a sweet kitty on our doorstep yesterday evening. On the other hand, he took him to a shelter this morning. Sigh. He seemed like a really sweet kitty. And no, we don't need another pet but after losing our dog it was nice to spend some time with such a sweet animal.

Now I'm in the doom and gloom phase - it's never going to happen, etc., etc.

The One in Which We Wait . . . and Wait

So, trying to move on. Miss my dog. Made some horrible misjudgments, etc. But as I’ve been told a thousand times now (yes, I’ve been talking crying about this with everyone I know . . . ) we did what we thought was OK at the time.

So, Saturday. We had to be there at 8:15 AM. Which is a herculean feat in and of itself but even more so when you have, you know, a wee one to contend with as well (oh, who are we kidding? It’s me, I’m the one who is terrible about getting places on time). What to do with the Boy? Every time I see Doctor Superman he asks when are we bringing in the Boy. And really, he SHOULD meet him since he’s pretty much the why, the how, the etc. . . . So, for an appointment the other day I brought him . . . and was met with a few icy stairs in the reception area. I felt completely weird having him there – and he was, of course, completely disruptive as well (he flipped out, FLIPPED OUT when I put the car seat behind the reception desk – he loves that thing. We took a cab there. It’s strange, the City Boy’s attachment to a car seat. He’s crying, carrying on, saying mournfully, “Car seat. Car seat. MY car seat.”). I felt weird bringing him and then it was even more weird when I got an ultrasound because the Boy insisted on sitting on my lap – so, you can only imagine how graceful that was, not to mention the future therapy needed for the Boy. But it was wonderful for him to meet Doctor Superman. It was really great to see them together. Anyhoo, so, right. We check in. We go upstairs so that the Husband can deposit his, er, "sample". That was also weird. But we had the upstairs waiting room all to ourselves for awhile – which was great. I actually READ A MAGAZINE while the Boy flipped the light switch on a lamp on and off multiple times all while “reading” his own books. It was a glorious few moments. And then many other couples arrived so letting the Boy run free like a madman was no longer an option. Then we walked a few blocks away to get a breakfast of mediocre bagels and mediocre danishes and mediocre coffee and while away the hour or so that we had to wait. Upon our return we were whisked into a room, I threw my legs into the stirrups and Bada Bing! Done. And now, we wait.