HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

Today I am 33. I am happy and healthy and have the one wish I have wished for for the past 2 years. I'm not sure it would be right to ask for anything more.

I just reread my post-holiday and -birthday post from last year. It amazes me how much can change in a year. (This point was also driven hope when I read through this year's archives in search for a post for Mel's Creme de la Creme.) Words really can't describe how fortunate I feel today.

This feeling of, well, feeling good can explain my lack of posting as of late. It's just that after all this time of feeling like frozen shit on a stick I actually feel fine. My fears, worries and neuroses of the first 20 weeks of this pregnancy were all very real, and, to some degree, unbelievably debilitating. But the past 8 weeks have been uneventfully wonderful. Our baby is growing and seems healthy, and after missing the pleasures of the first half of my pregnancy I am now trying to enjoy every moment.

And so I find myself at a loss... I am used to blogging about being a bitter infertile, and subsequently about being frightened barely pregnant woman with a disease carrying a high rate of miscarriage. This blog is that of an infertile (which I will always be), and so it feels strange to just jump into issues that are now on my mind. Believe you me, I have plenty to discuss.

Most of what I think about deals with bringing home a real live baby boy in less than three months. Because, finally, I actually believe that's what's going to happen come March. I'm just having trouble reconciling writing about labour ideas, vaccination worries and breastfeeding fears in the same place where I bawled about the possibilities of pehaps never even getting the opportunity to do so.

I'm not sure how this space will evolve. I'm sure I will lose some of you, and I truly understand (and miss you dearly). Please know that I still visit you all.

It's not that I feel guilty about being here... I just wish more than anything that every single one of you was here with me. I guess that's my birthday wish.

I am so lucky to have met you all.

MY BABY AND MY HUSBAND

The first time I felt the baby move was at about 18 and a half weeks. While I was anxious to feel movement I didn't actually expect it to happen that early as I'm a woman with more than a bit of extra padding. But nonetheless, there I was sitting in the movie Across the Universe with my husband and part way though there was this feeling in my belly. I let out a small gasp in shock, and proceeded to try to expel a fart (nice image, but it's true!). When I couldn't I knew the feeling wasn't gas, and was most certainly my growing, moving baby. Miraculously I was able to wait to till the end of the movie to let my husband in on this special news.

(Let's just note that The Beatles are my fave. Really. I grew up listening to them, and their music makes me so happy. I love every song and have every album. In my mind, no music can even compare. So it's amazing to me that my baby gave me his first nudge while I was watching/listening to a movie set to Beatles tunes. This coincidence actually almost solidifies our lean to using a a name featured in a Beatles song. But I digress.)

After that first sign of movement I probably didn't feel anything for a few days. And then a few days after that. Progressively I felt him daily, and then sometimes even a few times a day. Each time brought a smile to my face. It was like my little secret.

It's true-explaining how the movement felt is very tricky. I couldn't seem to put it into words. It's like a little fish blowing bubbles in my belly. Like tiny little pops. Like the coloured stuff that moves around a lava lamp.

The first time I felt the baby move from the outside was a shock. I wasn't even trying to feel him. I was just lying and reading with my hand resting on my stomach. And then suddenly: blooop. I nearly jumped to the ceiling. Again it was a complete surprise because I didn't know that I would be able to feel the movement from the outside so soon. Couple that with my belly fat and I pretty much thought it would be somewhere near the end of the pregnancy!

The C was excited by this development, but sadly over the following days the baby did not want to cooperate with him. And then one night I grabbed his hand fast and smushed it against my belly. The baby moved and The C was so startled.

"OMG, you felt that!" I said.
"Oh come on, that was just you hiccuping!" he insisted.
"No really, that was the baby."
"Really?"
"Really!"
"I just felt our baby?!"
"Yes, that was him alright."

"Wow. This is so unbelievably real to me now. I can't believe this is inside you! It's really happening!!"

It is amazing that it took my husband more than 20 weeks to truly be able to feel that we are going to have a baby. Earlier on in the pregnancy when I wanted him to talk to my belly he obliged, but he thought I was nuts. Now he can feel what he talking to and he is so excited. I usually grab his hand when the baby gets active and let him enjoy the little kicks, punches and somersaults. While each time is thrilling, I have always had to alert him of an active time to come feel.

Last night in a mostly awake state I spooned my husband. (Spooning is pushing it a bit... I more or less put my belly to his back and threw my arm as far around his waist as it would go- thanks to the growing belly.) I was lying there trying to be comfortable and wish myself back to sleep as the baby twirled and whirled inside. And then BAM big kick. Right to my husband's back.

The C instantly flew around. "The baby just kicked me!" I was as stunned as he was! Though I felt the baby move, I had no idea that my sleeping husband would feel it. My husband thought that surely it was a special kick just for him. The baby surely wanted to let him know right then and there he was awake and kickin'. And The C was thrilled to be made aware.

Right then, in middle of the night, I realized that I have never loved 2 people more in my entire life.

I'M HERE, I'M HERE

Just been a bit busy, is all.

I was working on a job that I had put off all month (finally getting some work to the client yesterday). Plus I have a trade show to prepare for this weekend. I'll let you know how I get through that. It ain't gonna be easy.

I am also in the midst of writing a post that is a little more positive that I usually am. Lest you guys think I am a horrible, paranoid, crazy pregnant lady. It's been a bit harder to put together...

On the great news front my results of the amnio came in (3.5 weeks later- and they said they were rushing it!). Everything looks fine. It's all ok. I can go back to researching frivilous things like onesies and bedding. Statistics: today I give you a kick in the balls.

PLEASE VISIT...

1- Please go over and support Ann, who is having to make some really hard decisions. No one should have to go through what she and M are faced with. Especially since they worked so hard to get there... It just makes me cry with unfairness even tinking about it.

2- Give give Mel at Stirrup Queens a read, and then go vote for her: she's a 2007 Weblog Awards Finalist in the Medical/Health Issues category. It's just a few very easy clicks. Her blog is the mother of all IF blogs. vote her and vote for IF awareness.

Sometime soon: I will be here to discuss that maybe, just maybe there is joy in pregnancy.

THE DRAMA NEVER ENDS

I was going to post about how calm I was feeling. I was also going to post aboout having my first meeting with my doula, and how great that was, and how thrilled I am that I have her as support.

But then yesterday morning I started having cramping pains on my left side while sitting at the computer. I figured I wasn't in a good position, so I went to relax in a comfy chair and watch some tv. (Thank goodness I work at home!) It just got worse, and I started to panic so I called my mother and my husband (recap: my husband works with my parents), and they told me to lie down. After a while of lying down I felt better, so I got up and went about some normal activities at home. About an hour and a half later it was back worse than before. Lying down didn't help.

I decided, finally, that I should call my doctor. Of course her office was closed, but her message said to call the birthing centre if you were pregnant and had and emergency. I still was waffling on whether or not this was an emergency, but the pain was worsening, and I could barely breathe. So I decided to call. The nurse was calm and patient, and told me that I sounded bad, and she would not know what was wrong unless I came in.

So my husband rushed home to take me to the hospital. I could barely stand up by the time we got to the nurse's station I could barely stand. They got me to a room, I changed, and they didn't waste any time. First thing they did was look for the baby's heartbeat. It was instantly there, and we were so relieved. But I was still in pain. Over the next little while the pain lessened, and the staff and doctors (it's a teaching hospital so there are tons of people around) could barely believe that I was the same person who walked in. It almost seemed ridiculous that I was there, but they were running tests and needed me to stay.

Soon the pain started coming back, and I was practically screaming in agony. Several nurses tried to put in an IV with no luck, which added to my pain. The doctor strongly recommended a shot of morphine, and I went with it because oh my god the pain had to stop.

And it did. And so far thankfully it hasn't come back (it's 24 hours later.)

After 2 ultrasounds, countless blood tests and urine tests, 4 botched IV attempts (the 5th went in but caused lots of pain and discomfort the whole time I had it in), they still don't know for certain what caused the pain. They surmise it was my ovary twisting, and then untwisting by itself (which is why they didn't see anything on the scans that they did). I stayed the night (my first ever in the hospital), and the discharged me. They let me know that perhaps I might have a UTI, but I think not. It was also the diagnosis that they gave to the two other women that came in in the evening (they were sent home, so I was alone in the room for the night.)

I am home and feeling ok. At least I learned a few things from this experience:

1- The labour and delivery area is quite pleasant, and the nurses are amazing.
2- If at all possible I would like to avaoid having an IV put in when I'm giving birth
3- The pain I had was pretty intense. If labour is like that then I'm gonna be alright. If it's worse, man I don't even want to think about that!!

Happy 20 weeks to me and my baby. I hope the next 20 are much less eventful.

IT’S A...

Before we get to that, there’s tons more to talk about.

First on the agenda: You Wonderful Folks.
Your support over the past couple of days has been unbelievable. I know I have said it countless times already, but I don’t know what I would do without you guys. It means so much to me that you are here for me- to lend a comforting word or some really thoughtful advice. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Point number two: Yesterday’s OB Appointment
Putting it all into perspective, if we eliminate the stress of the screen results, yesterday’s appointment was pretty standard and uneventful. Wait for eons, go into exam room, wait for a bit longer (but be thankful that I am not sitting there naked but for a sheet of paper), doctor enters, listens to beautiful heartbeat, the end.

So we got all that (oh, the wonderful heartbeat and movement sounds of our baby!!), plus a discussion of our screen results, which included some straight talk from the doctor.

And alas, third of all: The Decisions
I know I sounded pretty adamant in my last post about no further testing. Over the next day or so, I started to rethink my position. Your comments and email exchanges were really helpful in showing me various points of view. I began to understand something that I previously hadn’t thought about (until now I really had hoped I would never have to think about any of this…): I certainly wouldn’t love my baby less if he was born with Down’s, but it would be in my and his best interest to know and be prepared upon his birth.

This, coupled with our OB pointing out to us that the risk of miscarrying due to having the amnio was actually higher than our risk of Down’s started to make the picture very clear. Plus, our OB noted, the rate of miscarriage from amnio of the particular doctor who would be performing the test was actually in the range of 1/2000 to 1/3000. The doctor was able to fit us in this morning (moving our ultrasound up one week.) Our doctor also told us that we still had the evening to think about it some more: upon arrival at the ultrasound clinic we could inform them that we were just going to have the ultrasound and not the amnio.

Par for the course, I didn’t sleep all night. Though my husband and I had made up our minds, the thought of doing the procedure, and the possibility of miscarrying was weighing on me heavily. The way I have written it makes it seem like the process was straight-forward. In truth, the last 5 days have been a special sort of hell reminiscent of my years dealing with infertility. In the end (and I am saying this now, no matter what happens), I know that we made the decision that was best for us.

I won’t go into details about the procedure this morning- it’s something I would sooner rather forget (not so much due to the pain, but for the emotional upheaval.) I haven’t had any bleeding, fluid leaking, or strong cramps. I am feeling confident at this later time of the day that nothing bad is going to happen. Now we just have to sit tight for the results which won’t be available for another 2-4 weeks. Results which won’t change how much I love my baby, but will redirect my prenatal research from strollers and cloth diapers to, well, other more important things.

As for the actual ultrasound? Our sweet baby was a beautiful as ever: moving, waving, breathing and hiccupping. Everything measured perfectly; we saw his little bones growing, his 4 heart chambers and his brain hemispheres. The C also saw signs that he is already a fan of is soccer (er, football) team, Porto.

You may have noticed over the weeks that I have always used “him”, “he”, and “his” in a generic sort of way. Today we saw for sure. We will be painting our little room navy and lime, and my mother is already planning the bris. You all, of course, are invited.

And last: Thank you to my wonderful C. Your love and support are never ending, and for this I am eternally grateful. I know I couldn’t have made it through the past few days without you.

(Please, if you know me IRL, keep all this info to yourself. We don’t think that we are going to tell many people.)

THE WORNG SIDE OF STATISTICS

It's interesting how most days start out the same way, and progress in the same manner, and then you go to sleep and start all over again. And then every once in a while something happens that stops this cycle short.

I received a phone call from my OB yesterday afternoon. It sent me into a tizzy.

Let's rewind a bit and have a look at some statistics. (Disclaimer: Some numbers may be a bit off- I am not a medical journal- so don't quote me on them.)

First things first: 1/6 of couples suffer from infertility. That's 16.7% of the population. Of those 40% are female related, 40% male related and 20% unexplained. My husband and I are lucky, we are both affected (though he much milder than I).

It's no secret: I suffer from PCOS. With pretty much all the symptoms. It is estimated that somewhere between 5%-30% of the female population exhibits symptoms of PCOS. From this group, about a third of women are annovulatory. Let's be generous and call that 10%. That's me.

The first course of treatment for an annovulatory woman who wishes to become pregnant is the prescription of Clomid. 80% of the women who take this route ovulate and conceive. I'm in the 20% that didn't.

If y'all are following along you will see that I fall into a 2% group of the population. Pretty slim chances of being affected the way that I am, but still, here I am living proof...

In July I finally fell on the right side of statistics when I became pregnant after my 5th cycle of Femara coupled with injectible gonadotropins, and coupled with an IUI (to help my husband's sperm along.) At my clinic the pregnancy rates after 5 cycles is just under 80%. For once I didn't fall into the unfortunate group.

I pretty much thought I had left all the bad stats behind.

Until yesterday's call.

My OB called to tell me that my Integrated Prenatal Screening came back positive for downs syndrome. She broke it down and put it all into perspective for me:
Chance of downs based on my age (32): 1/466
Cut off for a negative result in this range: 1/200 to 1/270
My result: 1/183

I stayed calm by grabbing my notepad and jotting down all the information. I tried to stay focused as words like genetic counselling and amniocentesis and termination were thrown at me.

I realized that there was silence on the phone. "Oh," I said, startled, "you want me to say something..."

I told my doctor that termination was not an option for my husband and I and our baby. So genetic counselling and the amnio were moot. My husband and I had discussed this previously as a "what if" scenario that we thought we would never have to entertain. Our baby is much loved now, and however he or she might be born.

The problem is that I am not the type to stop worrying about something just because it's out of my control. I am very concerned about the test results, and just can't stop thinking about the what ifs. I'm not sure that if I hadn't battled with IF that I would be concerned like this. After all, 1/183 is just slightly more than 0.5%. But one thing that lingers with me as I struggle (still!)to come to terms with my infertility is my ability to continuously fall on the wrong side of statistics.

(PS: Thanks Flygirl.)

THINGS OF MINOR NOTE

Or: Things of no note whatsoever

It is safe to say that the following are currently not occurring:

-Any sort of visible baby belly, though when I lie flat on my back I can certainly feel something hard going on. It just seems that there is too much "padding" covering any would-be bump.

- Weight gain of any amount. As a matter of fact I have lost weight for the first time in two years since starting down the slippery slope of IF treatments. I have read that for someone of my, er, size, it is best to gain less than 15 pounds during pregnancy, and ideally no weight at all, though I fail to see how that can be possible. Therefore there has been no shopping of maternity wear. My current wardrobe may take me well into February at this rate.

-Movement of said baby that is supposed to be within said non-expanding stomach. (Though to be truthful, I thought I might have felt something while watching All Across the Universe the other night. And then maybe something the following day. And then yesterday I had too much gas, so I wasn't even going to try to distinguish between what may be movement, and what was definite stomach/intestine happenings. You're welcome for that image.) (Oh, and go see the movie, it was wonderful.)

-Sleep of any notable duration. I have to pee too often during the night. And last night I felt very uncomfortable. Even though, as mentioned, there is no belly to speak of, I felt really heavy. And so I find myself exhausted throughout the day.

-Nausea of any sort. Thank the lord that has passed (as mild as it was.) I still have major food aversions, as well as cravings for foods I previously have been less than enamoured by. I know this is normal, but still so weird.

Now, it is also safe to say that the following non-pregnancy-related things are occurred or are occurring this morning:

-Commencement on the demolition of my basement. Which will lead to the remodel of it. (Which is actually pregnancy related, because as gross as the basement was when we moved into our house three years ago we said we would wait to make it into the perfect playroom when the time came. Alas, the time is here.)

-The stealing of the licence plate off of my car parked in my driveway. Yes you read that right. Actually, the car is registered to my mother, and so I was up and at the police station reporting this "crime" at the crack of dawn. My mother is very concerned that the plate is going to be used in some criminal act and that she will get hauled off to jail. Later I have to go get a new plate (cuz right now I'm too busy blogging.)

-Drew Carey is making his debut on the Price is Right today. Are we all not whooping with excitement? Really I am! I can't wait to see the great sets that have been made for this new era in game shows!

Ok, I warned you these were items of minor note. Now back to your days.

THE PASSING OF TIME

I am having a bit of trouble dealing with the concept of time these days. I'm not quite sure if it's passing too slow or too fast.

It struck me yesterday: Thanksgiving Day. It was October and I found myself wearing a jacket, scarf and socks. But how could it be October? It was just July yesterday! To the infertile the passing of months and seasons is always significant. We look back: last October I was just meeting my RE. We look forward: next Thanksgiving please let me have a real live baby in my arms.

It seems almost unreal that it has been a year since meeting our RE. Our conception struggles extend further back than last year, but our first appointment at the clinic made it all very real. From the point of starting treatment at the clinic our life became broken down down into smaller increments. Time wasn't measured in hours and days and months, but in cycles and injections and ultrasounds. And, of course, in two-week-waits. (Though this term includes the word "weeks" and is indeed a period of 14 days, the two week wait is very much its own special calculation of time.)

And so life passed in time I measured between appointments with the wand, by counting bruises on my belly, and with the arrival of my period. Yes, it could have been the 7th day of Chanukah, but to me it was the day my period arrived after my first injectible cycle. And it may have been Valentine's Day, but more importantly it was CD 16, the day I was to trigger.

And then one day (not a Tuesday, but a 12do) I peed on a stick and the second line appeared. And so began a time that is passing quite unlike any I have ever known.

My anxiety and neuroses punctuated the first 9 or so weeks of pregnancy. Time was still measured in ultrasound increments, which were done weekly. Thankfully time also signified growth of the fetus. But seeing the growth only kept me happy for a day or so, and then it was back on the roller coaster of terror until the next appointment.

Somewhere around week 12 I finally started chill. The days that were previously lasting like eons seemed more like, well, days. I went on vacation and the baby was still alive. I had my NT scan and everything looked good. Each day without spotting seemed like a monumental occasion. I heard the baby's heartbeat at my 13 week OB appointment. Sure as time was telling, all seemed to be fine.

A couple of weeks ago I felt another interesting change. Could it be that time was moving way too fast? It occurred to me that throughout my first trimester I was wishing this to be a speedy pregnancy because I wanted to be rid of all the fear and worry. At that moment I realized two important things. One, that this might be my only shot at pregnancy, so I should really savour each moment (even as unsavoury as some moments are!) And two, that my life is going to change in such a drastic way in 6 (short) months so I should really take time to enjoy them.

I'd say that for a week I was pretty hunky dory (how awful an expression is that??!). The infertile in me would never let me become smug pregnant woman, but a certain excitement overcame me. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I was announcing my pregnancy from the rooftops or anything. But I was feeling quietly at ease.

Enter week 16. I realize that although I am measuring my time in weeks, the time increment that matters most now is time between OB appointments. Today I am 3 weeks and 3 days past my last one, and one week and 4 days until the next. Here-in lies the problem: time is being a bitch. As much as I want to enjoy, I need my appointment now.

As well as I thought I was doing, I realized that this has been the longest period of time I have gone without hearing a sign of life from my baby. I am ashamed to say it, but the old paranoia is settling back in. I know deep down that I very well may be crazy. But that doesn't stop my head from spinning with dead baby thoughts.

You see, it seems to me that nothing much is happening. I know that I am well into my second trimester, and all is supposed to be great, but I fear that it's not. Being sick the past couple of weeks has drained me of my energy. Time pretty much is standing still. All the things I am supposed to be experiencing now: nada. No cute baby bump, no clothes that don't fit, no flutter of movement, and certainly no energy spurt. All this adds up to only one thing in my mind... And, really, what if it's that? I mean, what if...

Oy, if you have made it this far, I give you much credit. Ramble, ramble, complain, complain. These thoughts have been swirling in my head for days and they just needed to get out. I’ll keep you posted on whether or not this has been cathartic.

In the meantime, I reward you with some Canadian Thanksgiving photos. Proof that even if time is standing still for me right now, the world keeps turning.

PEOPLE SAY THE DARNDEST THINGS

It’s been a tough couple of weeks. Apparently being sick and pregnant concurrently does not agree with me. After innumerable boxes of Kleenex (my husband says he should buy shares in the company), countless coughing fits, and a migraine that just about made me want to cut my head off yesterday, it seems that I may finally be on the mend.

So let us return to our regularly scheduled program.

I promised the reactions to my pregnancy… and I shall deliver. The comments run the gamut from thoughtful and supportive to what the fuck. I will try not to editorialize so that you can draw your own conclusions…

Without further ado:

Friend 1
The C and I are out for Chinese with F1. Our fortune cookies come:
Me (cracking open cookie and reading): You will have a baby in March
F1 (looking a bit horrified, because that’s a pretty evil fortune for her infertile friend): Oh, well…
Me: Well what?
F1: Well… that’s not even possible… (feeling really bad about having this conversation, wondering perhaps if I am enjoying this torture)
Me: Why not?
F1: Because that would mean that you would have to be… OH MY GOD!

***

Friend 1 (a few minutes later)
F1: This is great, now I can talk to you about all the pregnant people we know!

***

Friend 2
Phone rings at midnight (I go to bed around 10, and the world knows this.)
Me (looks at call display and freaks out because WTF is F2 doing calling me at this hour?!) Hi, is everything ok?
F2: Yes, of course it is! I just read your blog!!
Me: Oh ya?
F2: Ya! I’m so excited! You’re pregnant! I’m crying!
Me (waking up a bit): YOU are CRYING??!! (Note: F2 is the least emotional person in the world- no exaggeration.)
F2: Well, this is just so great!
Me: Well ummm… I’m happy you’re excited!
(Having posted about the positive pee stick seconds after it occurred, I wasn’t prepared for reactions from people IRL… this conversation was so surreal on many levels.)

***

My Parents
They know something is up- they were aware of our IUI, and also seemed to be aware that we hadn’t started another round of treatments. We invite them over for dinner, and draw the whole ordeal out. They are about to leave, and The C tells them they should have a seat in the living room.
The C: We have some news.
Parents: (expectant looks on their faces)
The C: We’re pregnant.
My father: Well we were wondering when you were going to tell us.

***

The C’s Parents
I ask him to call them in advance of their visit here as I wanted them to know that I was on modified bed rest. I am ever-paranoid about my mother-in-law thinking that I’m lazy.
The C (after many minutes of pleasantries): So, we’re pregnant
MIL: (something to the tune of) That’s nice. (In Portuguese, and I don’t speak much Portuguese.)
End of conversation.

***

The C’s Parents (A few days later, they are here to visit)
Me: Ola! (That’s Hello! in Portuguese)
Them: Ola!
(I know I said that I wouldn’t editorialize, but really, that was the extent of our conversation. I understand my in-laws don’t speak much English, and I even less Portuguese, but I assure you that I know the Portuguese word for congratulations.)

***

The C's Sister and Her Husband and their teenage kids
We have made the 6 hour car ride to visit them, and we are excited to tell them our news. Minutes prior to our visit The C’s parents inform us that even though we asked them not to tell anyone about the pregnancy, that (surprise to me!) they were so excited that they couldn’t wait and have told SIL and BIL and the kids.
Us (following lunch): We have some news!
SIL: Oh, yes. Mom and Dad told us weeks ago.
Crickets and tumbleweed…
End of conversation.

***

My Grandparents
(Who are a little hard of hearing)
The C: So what are you guys doing in March?
My Grandmother doesn’t even hear the question
My Grandfather: I was thinking of going on a cruise.
(He’s 83 and can’t travel)
The C: Oh ya? To where? England? (My grandfather loves to tell the story of his trip over to England when he was in the Air Force during WWII)
My Grandfather: Oh! That seems like a good idea, I hadn’t thought of there
My Grandmother: Who’s going on a cruise?
Me: Ok, we are getting a bit off topic here…
The C: Right. Ok, seriously what are your plans for March?
My Grandfather: I told you, I’m going on a cruise.
The C (thinking: crazy old man): Well you might have to cancel it to go to a bris or baby naming.
My Grandfather: Oh! That’s great news! Oh wow! Another March birthday! Mazel Tov!
Minutes pass…
My Grandmother: Who’s making a bris?
The C and I: Well we might in March
My Grandmother (jumping up to hug us): Oh! Mazel Tov! Oh what great news! Oh! I’m crying!!
And a bit later… My Grandmother: So what was all that about a cruise?

***

The C’s old friend and his wife
The C: We’re pregnant!
Wife: Oh wonderful! Congratulations! That’s such great news! How are you feeling?
Old Friend: Congratulations! We had a bet going, and I win!

***

The C's Old Friend (later in the evening)
OF: You know, I was just talking to my sister the other day, and we were wondering if the reason you guys didn’t have kids yet was because they cut off a bit too much when you had the ol’ snip snip done.
(The “ol’ snip snip" refers to The C’s circumcision he had done when he converted to Judaism 5 years ago.)

***

Niece 1 (10 years old, but with the soul of an old lady)
After hearing my father tell his aunt and uncle the news at Rosh Hashana
N1 (to my mother): Ms. C’s going to have a baby?
My mother: Yes! Isn’t that exciting?
N1: I guess so…
N1: J (her uncle on the other side’s girlfriend) had a baby in her belly and the baby died. It was really little (shows size with her hands).
My mother: Well, that won’t happen to Ms. C’s baby, we hope.
N1 (still looks worried… a child after my own heart indeed.)


***

Niece 2 (9 years old)
N2: Hey, when is the baby going to come out of your belly?
Me: In March. Maybe on Niece 1’s birthday!
N2: I want it to be born in September, on MY birthday.
Me: Well maybe the next baby.
N2: No! I want THIS ONE on my birthday.
Me: …

***

So there you have it. At this point so many people know that I have lost track. There are the reactions that stick out most in my memory. Now I want to know what you think of the reactions! I know you guys will have yoour own editorials- do not let me down!

SICK, BUT OTHERWISE OK

There is always so much that I want to post about. I feel like I am losing my grasp on journaling this experience.

But today I am sick. It came on from nowhere (other than since my positive test I have had an unbelievable increase in snot production). It's definitely a sinus infection, but I am adamantly against taking any meds if possible. So I am waiting for a call from my wonderful homeopath who will hopefully refer me to the magical remedy. I have great faith in her... I usually am hit with major yuckiness like this twice a year, but since beginning my treatment with my homeopath almost 2 years ago I have managed to remedy being sick like this within 2 days. (By comparison, course of antibiotics from my doctor would see me better in about 7.)

That's the news for today. I'm still compiling an interesting list of reactions to my pregnancy (some will make your jaw drop.) Also coming at some point: my 2nd OB appointment, wherein the waiting was more interesting that the appointment itself.

Come back for more! I wish you all happy days, my dear friends.

TO MY SWEETHEART

Happy fourth anniversary. I love you so much, words can't even describe. It is impossible to imagine where I would be today without you.

You're the sweetest thing.

(Hey folks, you want a picture? Click to last year's post. aren't we a cute couple?)

BACK FROM AWAY, BUT NOT QUITE HERE

I was on vacation. And I didn't warn you. I hope you haven't been fretting too much.

It's so true what many have you have pointed out- the longer you wait between posts the more difficult it is to get back here and write. I have had posts upon posts swirling around in my head for weeks, but I'm not really sure how to get all my thoughts out coherently. Yes! So may thoughts! I am thinking things- can you imagine?! But everything is all over the place.

I might as well start with this: I am still pregnant. Physically, all 12w3d of my baby seems to being doing just fine. On Thursday we went for out first trimester Integrated Screening tests (which included my first ultrasound not done by my RE, as well as the phenomenon of being able to remain clothed during the process.) The sonographer, who explained every detail of what's going on inside (much to my glee) pronounced everything just perfect. Of course I couldn't have hoped for better news.

So, though the baby is growing just fine physically, it doesn't seem that my psyche wants to catch up. While I am thankful for every moment of this pregnancy (there are not even words to describe), I find myself unable to feel completely blissful about it. I can't seem to be able to completely just let go of my fear and start to enjoy. It also doesn't seem quite real- kind of like this isn't happening to me. When I think of pregnant me I feel as if I step out of my body and am looking at myself from across the street. It's as though pregnant me and infertile me can't co-exist in the same body and brain. It is truly a surreal experience.

The hardest part about the surreality of the pregnancy is that other people don't seem to understand why I feel this way. And you know that I'm not talking about you, oh friends of the blogosphere! Next time I think I will post about peoples' reactions to our news to lighten things up a bit around here. (I know you will have a good laugh.) In the meantime, thanks for listening. Again, I am ever thankful for your presence and support.


PS: I'm going to shuffle my blogroll around a bit- if I have put you in a category that you don't feel comfortable residing in, please let me know.

'BOUT TIME FOR SOMTHING NEW...

Is there anyone out there still reading? If so, this post is for you. And also for me, cuz it would be nice to have some account of this journey. I have so many little things to talk about. I might as well make a list, or I may never get to everything that I want to say.

1. I have not had any spotting for the last 8 days. (Make that 8 days, 2 hours and 32 minutes. But who's counting?) I see this as a big step forward. BIG. I still hesitate at each wipe, but a little less so as each day goes by. I do realize that since it I had spotting before that it may happen again. But I am getting alot better at not freaking out of late.

2. I had my first OB appointment last Wednesday. The most remarkable thing about it was that I waited for 3 hours. Apparently in these parts that's "normal". I know it's not cool, and for some it may even be cause to look elsewhere for care. I have thought long and hard about this since my positive test, and I really like my doctor, I am comfortable with the hospital in which I will give birth, and I am not so good with change. So I'll be staying with my OB/GYN, who when I initially posted about her I called Dr. Happy-go-lucky. And she is so cheerful, so I will be sticking with that name.

Other than the wait, the appointment was fine. She was thrilled to see me, pregnant and all. She did an internal exam and told me everything felt really "nice". We tried the doppler out-but no cigar. I was very surprised at how little this bothered me. (perhaps because I had just seen the baby 4 days prior, and knew that I would be seeing him again in 4 days!!) She had a good laugh at the number of u/s I've had, but was happy that it was making me feel more confident. We discussed first trimester screening, the 18-20 week scan, and I made an appointment to see he in the middle of September.

3. We went in to our clinic last Saturday for another scan (9 wks). My mom came with us- she was so excited. At first Dr. New was all- here's the heartbeat, everything looks great, you're measuring right on target, etc.. THEN he showed us the baby's little arms and legs. It was truly AMAZING. There is no other word for it!

He also pointed out a sliver of blood at the bottom of the sac. (Not a clot, but a bit of a crescent adjacent to the sac.) I asked him if there was a name for this and he said "no". But told me to continue taking it easy. Which I am. Very much so. Because while he said it's not such a cause for concern, he also told me that "I didn't want to know" what can happen if it got to be a bigger problem. Look I am no embroyonic expert but it sounds a bit to me like placenta previa from what I have read. The only problem with this is that all my reading material points to this occuring in the second trimester, and resolving by the third. So what if it is this, and it's occuring with me at 9 weeks- what does that mean?? (I KNOW, I don't want to KNOW, but i want to know, you know?) SO if you swell internets have any info for me, it would be greatly appreciated.

4. Contrary to how that last paragraph sounded, I am actully not hysterical over this. Really, I'm not. I haven't bled at all, so I am trying to think of myself as "normal".

5. Dr. New doctor smiled at the end of our last appointment and asked me if I would like to have another scan. OF COURSE I said yes! He laughed, and siad it would be his pleasure, but after that I am cut off. I'm happy he gave me a week's warning so I could get a head start on the withdrawl. I am so thankful that he has been so kind over the past weeks. And I am lucky that my RE is still willing to scan me at 10 weeks. (Though a friend was quick to point out that this really is a business that he's running, and at $75 for 10 minutes work it's bad business to say no to me!)

6. Speaking of 10 weeks. TEN WEEKS. Tomorrow. Holy shit. It's still weird to think that I can put me and pregnant in the same sentence. But here we are. As a matter of fact, over the past week or so I am seeing the following equation pop up every so often: ME + PREGNANT = CAUTIOUS EXCITEMENT. I know. Who woulda thunk it.

7. But the infertile in me is as alive as this baby. And as the bits of happiness start to creep in, I find that they are not erasing the past 2+ years of fear, worry, and doubt that my body can do what it's supposed to. I take everyday as a tiny step forward, and pray (in my way) for the best possible outcome.

TWBD

I spoke with my mother earlier this morning. She had some news for me.

The World's Best Doctor had died on Tuesday. I sat in complete shock as she read me the obituary.

I know he was sick- he had to stop working. But it just seemed to happen so fast. It seems so unfair that such a wonderful person who has helped so many bring lives into this world should leave us so young. He was only 49! I also just found out (upon my visit to my OB on Wednesday) that the nurse at my clinic is TWBD's wife. I had an incling, but I never felt comfortable coming out and asking her. I am just feeling such sadness for her and their little girl.

I will always remeber him. I don't know where we would be today without him.

SPOTTING, SPOTTING 1, 2, 3

I figured I wouldn't bore you all week with my neuroses. I wish I could write that I feel tons better, and that I am happily entrenched in this pregnancy, but I still can't. Hopefully soon, though.

Here is the run down of what's been going on...

I spotted every so often last week- maybe once a day. I became used to it, and though I would panic upon wiping, I realized that maybe "normal" for me was seeing traces of pinky/orange. It wasn't bright red, and my doctor seemed to think that all was ok, so I took many deep breaths and continued to move forward.

On Saturday we went in for another u/s. Everything looked perfect- great heartbeat, and measuring 8w4d. Dr. New was pleased, but advised that I still take it easy for another week, just to be sure. He also mentioned that it was time to get in touch with my OB to get in with her, although he assured me that he would see me next week for another scan if I wanted. Well, of course I wanted!

The C and I were both pretty happy (yes, I was happy!) and we got in the car and headed to Vermont to visit with my aunt (where I took it easy.) I did feel relief for most parts of the day, and even a bit of joy as we shared our u/s photos with my aunt, uncle and cousin.

And then yesterday morning I woke up, went to pee, and wiped- only to see bright red blood on the toilet paper. I wiped again- more red. And the again- and nothing. I freaked out and called The C into the bathroom (actually, I freaked out, yelled FUCK, my aunt came to the door and asked if I was alright, and then she got The C for me!) Of course he was also concerned, but he talked me down off the ledge, and I proceed with my restful day. Of course, par for the course, there was nothing the rest of the day.

All this spotting/no spotting really puts a damper on going to the bathroom. I have to work up my nerve each time. It's taking its toll, I tell ya.

Naturally, I was worried this morning during my first bathroom visit- but there was nothing. And nothing all morning... until about 10 minutes ago. Now, excuse me if this is too much information, but: I am finding that I am a trifle constipated, and I have had the need to, er, push a bit harder than usual. As I wiped, I again saw some bright red on the tp. Not as much as yesterday, but still. Now here's my question: when I thought back to yesterday, I realized that the red had occurred after the same, um, circumstance. Is it possible that my pushing can cause some bleeding??

I am trying so hard to stay level by thinking that spotting in normal in some pregnancies. Also, while the spotting has been red the past 2 days, it isn't dark red (like heavy period), nor is it clotty, nor is there ever enough to even get on my underwear. So I'm trying to think of this as a simple reality of my pregnancy, and perhaps that I am meant to deal with this instead of nausea...

I have put in a call to my clinic (I'm waiting to hear back), and I have made an OB appointment. Lucky for me I got to speak to the nice receptionist there. (For a recall of how I have been treated by the narsty receptionist, please see this post and also this one.) Receptionist M's son and daughter-in-law have 2 children conceived with the help of my non-speaking doctor, so she is very well aware of how hard I have worked to get to this point. She was very excited to hear my news, and when I expressed concern over the spotting she gave me an appointment for this Wednesday. Bless her!

I'll keep you updated, but I am really feeling that my posting has become a lot of "same shit, different day", and is perhaps boring. Thanks to you all for sticking with me, and for your support over the last weeks.

UP AND DOWN, UP AND DOWN

I woke up yesterday morning in a panic.

I can't tell you what my panic was attributed to. I had tried so hard all week to remain calm, cool and collected. In my post on Friday I told you my scan was a mere two and a half days away. It seemed so close- I would definitely make it. But yesterday morning I felt nervous all over again. I waited til 9 and called my clinic. They told me to come in a few hours later.

Can I tell you how much I love my clinic? And I like Dr. New too. I wish I knew him better, and he knew me better, but beggars can't be choosers here. He's really alright.

So we did our scan and we instantly saw our little heartbeat. Relief, relief, relief. That's all I can say. Everything measure right on, and the heartbeat was strong. We even got to hear it. And more good news: the clot seemed to have left the building.

After seeing that all was ok, the doctor wanted to know what was freaking me out so much. I told him that sometimes I get waves of panic that I can't control. It doesn't help that I don't seem to have consistent symptoms, either. I feel a bit queasy on and off (but have never vomited), and my boobs, which hurt a lot in week 5, hurt much less now. He assured me, that although he does not have a crystal ball, he has no reason to think that this pregnancy won't proceed normally.

All through this The C has been supportive. I know he thinks that I'm crazy, but he tries his very best to keep me calm. We left the clinic reassured, and I enjoyed the rest of my day. I even slept well last night (perhaps better than I have in weeks), and had a fun morning. We came home from Brunch and I was exhausted, so I lay down for a couple of hours.

I woke up to go to the bathroom, and upon wiping saw some more traces of blood. This is the first bit of spotting since Monday's episode, and I know following that everything was ok. I am trying to focus my thoughts on that. Even if my clinic was open I'm not sure I would have called them. I am going to wait til tomorrow and see what's going on then.

Why can't I have more than 24 hours peace??

MOVING ALONG...

I think I complained amply on Tuesday to last the entire week. So no more.

I am trying to concentrate on the good, and making an effort to stay on an even keel. Like many of you have suggested, I am breathing deeply and focusing on growing baby thoughts. I've had a restful week as my doctor recommended; I've hardly left my house at all. I'm not grumbling about that much because apparently it's sweltering hot out there. And I don't like to sweat.

The In-laws are coming this weekend and The C has promised that I won’t have to do anything. I feel a little silly taking it easy, but if I get the desired end result then I guess it’s all worth it. Also-if I don’t kick back and relax and something happens there will be a ton of self-blame happening in these here parts.

Only 2 and a half more days til the u/s. Trust me, I’m counting every second. My mantra: just have to make it to Monday to see that everything’s ok. Rinse and repeat.

The last little tidbit that I can share with you is last night’s dream. It was so vivid, I think I scared myself by waking up. I dreamt that our baby had a poopy diaper, and I asked The C to change it. What did he do? He filled our deep soak tub with water and was dipping the baby in. And then he dropped her. And he thought it was funny. I was right there and grabbed her quick, but it was too late. Then, weirdly, she began to shrink until there was nothing left of her but a spongy toy-like thing in the palm of my hand. Of course this would never happen… but where on earth did this dream come from??!!

Alright- time to wrap up here. Happy weekend to all, and you bet you’ll see me here on Monday.

SIONARA ANNONYMOUS LURKER

Did y'all read the last comment of my previous post? No? I'll wait while you do, but don't forget to come back here.

Ok done?

So. I have no qualms about what I'm going to write because I know she's not going to read it. You see, it goes something like this: This is my blog, and if I want to express my anxieties over my current situation, it is my prerogative to do so. My bog, my feelings. I'm part of this community because of the support-both the giving and receiving. If anyone else has a problem with this, picture me opening my humble door wide and wishing you adieu.

Oh, you're all still here? Great. Let's get on with the show.

People of the infertile blogshere: I love you. Your words of encouragement mean so much to me. I know how hard it is for most of you to come here these days. OH LORDY ME, do I know. I have been there and have been doing that for close to two years. In some ways I feel that I am still there, and that I will forever be doing that. It is amazing to me that through all that is tough and all that is wonderful I know that you will empathize. Again and again you have shown me so much compassion and kindness. I get teary just thinking about it.

This blog will inevitably change over the next weeks and months. I do not know into what it will evolve. I just hope that it doesn't fall into the miscarriage category. What I know for sure is that these few weeks of being-deep breath-pregnant have changed me, and I will never be the same, so neither will this space.

A few things I know for sure: I will remain sarcastic and bitchy. I will not curb my swearing. It will have always taken me longer than 3 months to get pregnant, and I will never stop being annoyed with my friend's husband for saying such a stupid thing to me. Also: it is very likely that I will ever stop worrying about shit, even if everything is ok. It's just not in my nature to do so.

Right... that's where we left off last week. The freaking anxiety.

The rest of the week saw a steady increase in the stress. I barely slept, and pretty much worried at every moment that the pregnancy wasn't progressing. My clinic didn't let me change the u/s date, so I pretty much sat here counting the minutes day by day. I did have a bit of a respite this weekend as we went to Ottawa for a friend's wedding. It was good to be away from here. I thought dead baby thoughts only about half as often.

My scan was supposed to be this morning, but yesterday afternoon I had some light pink spotting when I went to the bathroom. Of course I freaked. The C came home and called the clinic as I was barely sane by that time. (Man, I love that guy!) The receptionist told to come in immediately, so off we went. By the time I was in the stirrups I thought I was going to puke from anxiety (which I now know is much different from pregnancy induced nausea.) I couldn't look at the screen (a 40" plasma mounted on the wall right at my head), I couldn't look at the doctor, I just lay there shaking holding The C's hand. I swear I did not breathe until I heard the doctor say: "you can see the heartbeat right here".

In a nutshell: at 6w4d the size is measuring right on, but the doctor was not able to get a "count" on the heartbeat. On one hand this makes me ill with nerves, on the other I have to keep reminding myself that he has not proven himself to be a very good sonographer. I can't help myself, I sit here thinking that it's a weak heartbeat and the signal of a demise.

You know, really, I'm sorry if my anxiety is offensive to you, but I there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it. So again here I sit oscillating between fear and feeling that there is not much I can do at this moment anyways. It is such a fucking roller coaster.

The bleeding seems to be due to a small clot in my uterus. I haven't googled it because I don't want to know. The doctor says that because it is positioned below the embryo he isn't as concerned as he would be if it was above. He has told me to really take it easy and to rest as much as possible. I am scheduled for another u/s next Monday, but I was assured that if I felt like I needed to come in sooner that I could.

In the meantime, I just keep hoping that everything is ok.

FUN STUFF LIKE ANXIETY

All my life I've been nervous about things. The first day of school, the first day of camp, and OMG, that first day when my parents dropped me off at my college dorm! It seems like every momentous occasion in my life has been filled with worry. It's no wonder that I'm feeling a huge amount of anxiety these days.

Don't get me wrong- I am excited. And once in a while the "holy shit there's something growing inside of me"-edness overtakes the anxiety. And those moments are great. But...

Then there are the times when I sit at my desk and poke and prod my boobs. I swear to myself that they are less painful feeling than the day before. And so that is cause for a freakout. I will find, that on another day, I could barely keep my my eyes from shutting while working, when the following day I run around full of energy. Surely this is freakout-worthy as well. And let's not forget that icky-gicky nausea that sometimes is felt in my stomach, and other times at the top of my throat, and of course, every day at a different time leaving me wondering if it's simply related to something that I ate that didn't agree with me. How can that not freak me out?

And so every night I evaluate all of the above, trying to decide if what's inside is still alive. I can't help myself but think about this. I go through my symptoms wondering if they are signs of anything going wrong. And I toss and turn, all the while wondering how I'm going to deal when this ends before it's supposed to. I know of course there's a chance that it won't. But there's also a chance that it may.

I know this is not an original topic that I am blogging about here. I have read the same sentiments from countless women who have been in my position after their IF struggle. So I know I'm not alone. But, although the thought of being alone gives me some comfort, I feel like all the knowledge that you guys have imparted has left me with a grave lack of naïveté about my situation. Quite simply: I know too much about what can go wrong. And, horrifyingly, I have seen it happen time and time again in our circle.

Shit, you think I'm being a little too melodramatic for 8 in the morning? Let's try to keep it real here...

I haven't gone for another beta. At this point (a week since my previous one) I'm not sure it's worth it as it will definitely show an increase in hCG, but it will be over such a long period of time it might not be worth much. (as opposed to measuring it 48 hours apart to be able to see that it's doubling in that time period.) I have my u/s scheduled for the 31st, at which point I will be 6w5d. My clinic does not like to do u/s before 6w2d, but I won't be in town then, so I had had to push it forward. I am really thinking of begging for an appointment this Friday (at 6w1d), because I don't know if I can hold it together until next Tuesday. Besides, Betabase (my new best friend) says that we should be able to see a heartbeat when hCG levels exceed 6000, and by my rough 48 hour doubling calculation I should be way past that already if everything is running smoothly.

I am really trying to stay calm and level-headed about this. I know I'm not the first person to here, and I won't be the last. But this is the first time for me, and I just can't seem to keep the anxiety at bay. The C holds my hand and tells me we will just take it minute by minute, day by day, and just think that all is well until we have an indication of otherwise. I appreciate all that, but it's not his body that will be failing him, and thus doesn't help the worry recede.

But then I stop and think that being anxious doesn't always mean a bad ending for me. That day in September 1994, when I moved into my dorm? The one that had me bawling like a baby at 19, practically begging my parents not to leave me there? The one that left me thinking: how the hell am I ever going to get through this? That's the day I met The C. And that seems to have turned out alright.

BETA TWO AND OTHER RELATED ITEMS

Well, I see what one has to do to get comments around here!! Thanks you, all you wonderful folks, thank you. You kind words mean the world to me. I'm so thrilled you came by and left me a personal note. It's great to have you to celebrate with.

So yesterday I went for a second beta (19do). The receptionist and nurse at my clinic basically think I'm neurotic (umm, I wanted proff that I didn't have a dead 4 week baby in me), but they were still happy to indulge me. I asked if they would think that I'm nuts if I wanted to come in again next week, and they said yes, but they would pander to my neuroses. I'm thrilled to have them on my side. So, ya. My beta. 1445. Go ahead, give that one a spin on Betabase. The median value for multiples at 19dpo is in the 1200s. Yup, I'm above that. The C is trying to figure out how we are going to fit 2 cribs in our little bedroom. I say: Let's not count our chickens before they hatch.

I oscillate between crazy elation and ugly dead baby thoughts. As I posted in my previous post I know that looking at furniture and clothes can't kill the baby (who's really still an embryo), but I can't help but think that I'm maybe hoping a bit too much. I also know that PCOS carries a high miscarriage rate, so I can't help but think about that every 10 seconds or so. I don't think that I will stop worrying until I have a real live baby in my arms, hopefully towards the end of March.

Hey Sara, want more info? Let's see... My boobs are killing me. My nipples hurt a bit, but it's the actual boob that is in the most pain. The best way to describe it is that they feel like they are bruised. I'm a triffle worried about the boob situation. On a regular day they are huge, I can't even begin to fathom what they are going to be like soon.

I'm also feeling exhausted. I regularly like to nap in the afternoon (a perk of working from home), but in the past week my napping has gotten to be rediculous. hopefully I will get the second trimester energy spurt (should I get there). And last, yesterday a bit of nausea arrived mid-afternoon. I couldn't decide if it was the nachos that I ate for lunch (not a good choice on any day), but today I feel the same way and all I had was a turkey sandwhich. No vomiting yet, but it feels like my stomach is sitting at the top of my esophogus. (Assvice welcome here.)

I am completely new at this, and though I sound like I'm taking it all in stride I am really really scared. The only IRL people who know (other than Shlomit who read it here) are my aunt and my trainer (who I felt I had to tell for medical reasons). Today as I said the p-word to my trainer I realized it was the first time that I have said it out loud in relation to me, and it pretty much freaked me out. (She was all "Mazel Tov!" and I was all "Umm ya.")

I don't know when and how this is going to feel real. For now I'm going to concentrate getting through dinner with my granparents without spewing at the table.

BARREN BITCHES BOOK TOUR: THE KID BY DAN SAVAGE

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. It was written with such insight and love, and so chock full of information I couldn't help but warm to the idea of adoption (which I had previoulsy thought was not for me.) Thank you, Mr. Savage for opening my eyes.

One thing that got to me in this book is how these guys didn't have to go through the initial questioning of there OWN fertility. Two men can't make a baby, so they just moved straight to adoption. My question is this: Do you think the reason that you've gone so far with your fertility treatments is because you are caught up in proving to yourself that you ARE fertile? How much are you willing to put your body through in your quest for a baby before you decide to move onto adoption (if that is even an option for you)?

I was actually surprised that adoption seemed to be a no-brainer for Dan and Terry. I know that Dan wrote bits here and there about how, prior to Terry coming into the picture, he though seriously about trying to work with a Lesbian couple as well as thinking about making a deal with a neighbour. However, once he and Terry decided (as a couple) to become dads, I found it odd that they didn’t revisit any scenarios of biological children. Or maybe they had and Dan didn’t find it relevant to the story.

For me, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the reason I persevered for the past two years was because there was no way that I felt that I could give up on the idea of one day being pregnant with a child that was biologically linked to my husband and me. So it’s not so much about fertility as it is biology. Now that I am very tentatively, ummm, there I can honestly say that I will always question my fertility; I will never see myself as fertile.

As for how much I would put myself through until I thought of adoption? To date we had tried Clomid for 2 cycles (with no ovulation) and done 5 injectible cycles (the 3 last ones with IUI). If we hadn’t gotten the desired result on this past cycle then there was no question that we would move forward to IVF. Since I haven’t had the experience of even one IVF cycle, I can’t really comment on how many I would be willing to do. I imagine it to be infinitely more difficult (physically and emotionally) than IUI, so I don’t know what lengths I would have gone to if this had become the case.

I can only imagine that I would have persisted for at least another 2 years to mirror the time that we have already spent as infertile hopefuls. Also playing a big role is that until reading this book I had previously seen myself as someone who might possibly never be able ready to make a choice about moving forward with adoption.

On p. 164, Dan is terrified of bringing baby items into the house before the adoption is finalized. Will you (or did you) bring items into the house before a birth or an adoption?

I can’t help but agree with Dan on this one!! I know it’s completely unrealistic to have nothing in the house before the baby arrives, but it really does seem like such a jinx. Of course, the “baby stuff” not being in the house will not mean that you will absolutely have a live birth, but I can’t help but wonder a bit. Also riding on this one is the fact that I know someone in real life that lost her twins at 8 months. I can’t imagine the pain that she must have felt looking at a finished nursery ready for her baby to come home alive in just a few more days/weeks.

As for us, I don’t see any furniture or other items being purchased until at least 7 months. I definitely won’t have a shower as it’s not a tradition in my family. One thing that I will admit (because it’s part of the question!) is that The C and I have already visited some big-name websites that carry baby paraphernalia. Certainly looking at onesies can’t kill our baby, can it?

What do you think DJ will think when he reads this book down the line?

I love that someone asked this!! It crossed my mind constantly while reading the book. I think that DJ is one lucky dude that seems to have 2 awesome dads, and he is so fortunate that one of them is so eloquent that he will have his whole birth story and adoption story down in writing. How many kids will get that?

All that being said, I hope he doesn’t lay his hands on it till he’s 20. I can only imagine that it’s gonna be hard for the kid to read all about his dads’ first encounter in the bathroom, as well as a number of other things that kids generally don’t want to think about their parents doing!!


Hop along to another stop on this blog tour by visiting the main list at http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/. You can also sign up for the next book on this online book club: Love, and Other Impossible Pursuits by Ayelet Waldman (with author particpation!).

NO CLEVER TITLE

I have been all over the place since yesterday morning. The line on the HPT was so faint that The C and I both were'nt even sure if it was there. We both looked, afraid to say anything, lest the one thought the other was coo-coo. Of course, we both saw, so it did exist. But an hour later when I went to look it was gone. I tried to keep it together. I don't even know how I made it to this morning.

We splurged last night on a box of 2 tests-premuim brand. I was so stressed at 5 this morning, I had worked myself into a headache by 5.30. So I got up and peed. On a stick. Let us examine:

Umm... line definately there. Totally frickin unbelievable. The relief, oh the relief. But also: terrifying. I mean, yes, it's exciting. Like an out of body experience. Like this isn't really happening to ME. I don't get positive tests. I never have.

But obviously this is me. I called my clinic (where I had to ask for a betas, they wouldn't necessarily do one, but I needed something quantitative, you know), and went in this aft for the blood test. Beta at 13dpo is 172. A strong number for a single pregnancy, or possibly twins, said the nurse. Just wow. It's real, and I don't know what to say.

Never mind going through labour and actually being a mother. I am scared shitless of being and staying pregnant. What do I do now?

AND SO IT CAME TO PASS

That Ms. C, thinking (incorrectly*) that this morning was 13dpo, laid her urine upon a stick at dawn's first light.

And lo! A contol line appeared, followed by another in the form of a cross.

"A sign!" thought she, even though she was Jewish!

It was true that it was faint in colour, almost barely there. Her husband remarked that perhaps it could be due to the asparagus consumed last night. But surely not, for the accompanying instructions said nothing about vegetables.




*I realized about 2 hours later that it's actually 12dpo, which could explain the faintness. Note to self: learn to count.

IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING

I'm here, but have been running around a lot in the past week.

A short update: We had our IUI today. Everything looked good. We shall see what happens 15 days from now. (You will be happy to know that I don't have any big events planned for that time.)

I'm not one to believe in signs, but last night when we got into bed The C flipped through the channels and found Simon.and.Garfunkle in concert on PBS. I turned to him and said: this must be a sign. I love S and G, but have no clue what made that come out of my mouth at that moment. It was a weird thing to say, but I think I just felt that at that precise moment the stars were all aligned, and that all would be fine in our little world.

Does that make sense?

A longer post to come. With some pics that we took on our "vacation" at home.

THIS IS MY 100TH POST

You would think that I would make it monumental... But I don't have much to say today.

The truth is that I really wanted to mark my Blogaversary with my 100th post, but my timing was off by a week. So here I am, all ho hum, trying to think of something to say.

Let's start like this: OMG, I heart the Comment-a-thon!! It's SO much fun. I love all my comments, so thank you guys so very much! To you guys who commented for the first time (let's face it, I have seen you folks around the blogosphere, but never here), it's so swell of you to drop in, and please be my guest to continue to do so.

I also have to say that I have loved leaving comments the past couple of days. I have commented on a few blogs that I never have before, and I am proud at myself for doing so. I love sharing the love. And I'm thrilled to have found some new blogs.

Allow me comment on some of the comments that you guys left...

Lots of you expressed surprise over the change in doctor. The truth is that I knew this would happen, I just didn't know when. (And I had met the other doctor, so it wasn't like a had a complete stranger staring up my hoo hoo.) As much as it was a surprise, it was also a bit sad. My doctor had to stop working because he is very sick. Even in the short time that I saw him (8 months) I was able to see a deterioration in his condition. I can only imagine what it must be like for a man who is obviously so passinate about his work, his patients, and his clinic to have to give it all up. Even though he couldn't speak (a symptom of his illness), I was able to tell all this about him. Some of you have asked me what is "wrong" with my doctor. The truth is that I really don't know. I never asked, and I was never told. He did exhibit many symptoms, and I discussed them with my aunt who is a neuro-psychologist. She feels that all the symptoms point towards a brain injury of some sort, or a brain tumor. (My aunt evalutes people with brain injuries day in, day out, and she told me his symptoms are pretty textbook.) Again, it's hard to even express how upsetting it is that my caring, compassionate and dedicated doctor is not able to practice any more.

Whooo- I didn't want this to be depressing! Let's move on...

My ovaries! Thanks for the congratulations on their beauty. I just want to be clear on one thing: they are still polycystic! Their status has not changed. They are just good-looking polycystic (which Dr. New was quick to point out that this is a bit of a misnomer, as they are really poly-follicular) ovaries.

Now, can I complain a little bit? I've had a headache for the past 3 days! A bad headache! Very painful. I haven't been able to work (thank goodness I work for myself), or do much of anything (except, ahem, read blogs when I drag my ass out of bed). Finally I called my clinic, because OMG, I was hurting. They told me it was most likely from the Fem.ara. Now, I have never had this side effect before (and this is my 5th cycle on the Fem.ara), and I had finished taking iton Monday. I am aware that it stays in the system for about 4 days, so I suppose it's possible that I am having a side effect from it. Then I spoke to my homeopath, and described the type of pain that I am having. She told me that it sounds like a liver cleansing headache (which fits well with my liver trying to work through the Fem.ara). So with all this great information, I am off to find the right remedy to make it GO AWAY! Hopefully I will be in a much better state later today.

Alrighy! C'est tout pour aujour'hui! Tomorrow I will update you on my cycle after my wanding. For now: hit me with your best comment!

SURPRISES

I figure it's only right to start off this week of the Comment-a-thon with a post chock full of stuff to give you fodder for comments. I want everyone to reach their goals, cuz let's face it- how cool would that be.

So: let me tell you about my surprises.

It you've been reading for a while you will know that I'm a gal who like, order, organization, plans and strategies. If you didn't know- now you do! (Amazing fact #482 about me!) I like to make lists, I love to obsess about things, and my favorite activity is "imagine the scenario".

This past week held a number of surprises for me. Let's take a peek. (And let's make a list! What a shocker!)

1. I wasn't too astounded at my negative last weekend. But it was a bit surprizing that Af didn't show until 16dpo. I called my clinic hoping for a CD3 appointment, but was pretty sure I would be told to take some BCPs as we had done 2 cycles consecutively. Woot- I was told to come in to see the doctor- yay me! Yes, a bunch of little surprises leading up to this big one: When we walked into the clinic we found out that our doctor had decided not to work anymore! Dr. New was taking over the clinic. (Our clinic only has one RE, a nurse, an embryologist, and the receptionist.) We had met with Dr. New on several occasions (as a matter of fact he is the one who "performed" my last IUI), but we were not under the impression that TWBD would be leaving the practice in a *poof*! I like Dr. New, and this change is not something that we would switch clinics over, but it would have been nice to have been informed, you know?

2. Our next surprise: The amount that Dr. New talks. You know, I had pretty much gotten used to my silent u/s rendez-vous. Dr. New did not just point out the obvious, but elaborated on everything like twenty-fold. As weird as it was to have a doctor that doesn't talk, once I made the adjustment, it's bizarre to have someone tell you everything!

3. And so you're wondering: What is it that Dr. New went on about? In a nutshell: how spectacular my ovaries are. Ha! I know! Pretty funny! It was interesting to have someone actually tell me about my ovaries. Apparently they are textbook. And they respons very nicely. And that thy are CYST FREE, so we are doing another cycle immediately! Now that's a great surprise! I was really thinking that we would have to do another round of BCPs, then cycle again, which would take us to the end of July. But we get to go right away!

4. Our final surprise came when we suggested that perhaps after this IUI (should it fail... I am trying not to even think about this and just stick to strategy at the moment) we should move on to IVF. Previously TWBD had suggested 6 injectible cycles (this current one is our 5th) before moving on. The way I was calculating, should cycle 5 fail we would have to wait out the rest of the summer (due to planned holidays) and then do the 6th in September. Should the 6th fail we were looking at starting our IVF at the end of October (it's amazing how far ahead I try to calculate!!). This timing for IVF completely does not work for us, as it is smack in the middle of The C's busy season. So we would have to postpone until January. BUT- here's the SURPRISE!! Dr. New agreed that we can move forward after this cycle, if need be. (Thus starting our supression in August). I felt a huge relief upon hearing this. Though of course I'm hoping beyond all hope that we won't have to visit that part of the plan, you know what I mean?

Alas... now I am off to get my pretty little ovaries checked-it's CD7 (This cycle's protocol: 5 days 5mg Fem.ara; 60IU Pur.egon starting CD5). When I'm back I'll be off to comment on all your writings! Have a happy day y'all.

HAPPY BLOGAVERSARY TO MEEEEE!

First things first: today is the first day of the rest of my life. It is also the first day of my cycle. And also the First Blogaversary of this here collection of IF shit. The coincidence of all three of these events smashing into each other today is unprecedentedly unfathomable. (OMG, to top this all off it is also the birthday of my bestest pal R, whose husband is the orator of the great quote which inspired my title. I am simply beside myself with this awesome twist of fate.)

Enough blab blabbing (though mind you, I've been doing that for a year, and you still come back for more), let's get on with the celebration, people!

AND HOW ARE WE GOING TO CELEBRATE?

You guys can all go out and get yourselves the biggest, fattest slice of dark chocolate cake with whipped cream icing (because if we were all together IRL for a party, that is definately the cake that I would serve to you all), but while you're out doing that, I'm going to be honouring you. Yes, YOU! (And you, and you, and you.) Because there is no way I would be who I am today without you.

Allow us to time travel for a moment. The date: June 12, 2006. The place: ummm... right here.

I wrote my first post (go ahead, reread, it's a quicky!), and received my first comment from Erin, who encouraged me to tell my whole story. And of course I've been following hers. I fond myself admiring her choice to persue adoption after struggling with PCOS and secondary infertility.

I told my IF tale to date, and was offered support from so many of you immediately: Nico, Krista, Heather, Lut, Chicagogirl, Angie, Electriclady, Beth- all of whom are either currently pregnant or have given birth in the past year. And also- Sunnie and GZ who I miss terribly.

I felt like an imposter, but you guys encouraged me to stay. Of course I found that I was not alone, and that I was not crazy, and that I wasn't the only one who hated my body, the medical system, and other people's pregnant bellies. You held my hand through the agozing wait until my first appointment with my RE (and second opinions) which was approximately nine 2WWs!

The agonizing wait led me to do lots of rersearch, and meet lots of you. I found IF comes in many shapes, sizes, ages, factors, uterii, and unexplainable things. I also learned how coo-coo Clomid is. Thank you to Thalia, Manuela, Meg, 'Nilla, Mary Ellen, Jennie, and Jenny.

Then came The C's first semen analysis. Oh, the hilarity of IF was just begining!! But you guys stuck with me. You told me how you went about this process: alone, together, at home, with porn. It was amazing to me that there was a whole group of you out there who were going through the same things as me, when no one in the Real World would talk about it.

Speaking of Real World... I am mistaken. I DID find one wonderful friend who understood it all too well. Over lunch in Toronto one day Shlomit and I confided in each other. I encouraged her to read my blog, and she decided to start her own space to write about her journey. Shlomit, I can't say enough how having you by my side has helped me in the past year. It is amazing to me how I have found my wa to you in the times in my life when I have needed a friend who understands.

Let me talk about a few other women who get where I am coming from in terms of my IF: the PCOS clan. Ornery, Robber Barren and Erin were the first that I discovered. I learned that PCOS came in many guises but the frustration is all the same. And then came Flygirl and Rachel, Canadians, just like me! Oh and Becky and Heather... AND THEN came my monumental post: FUCK YOU PCOS! And as luck would have it, a whole slew of you came pouring into my midst. I met Karen, Elizabeth, Baby Blues, Sharah, Ann, Tipsymarie, K, and Samantha. Whew! Now for anyone out there googling overweight, facial hair, hair loss, big zits, irregular cycles, annovulation, insulin resistance, and infertility: go on- have a field day! These women will tell you all you need to know.

Are there enough hyper links in this post yet? No? You want more? Okee dokke, you got it!

Let's talk about 2 girls who I have the most possibility of meeting one day. Both live in Toronto, and both are incredibly wonderful. I met Reality early on, and have always felt like she and I would be friends if we met IRL. Even through her toughest times (and this past year has dealt her more than her fair share, and then too much more), she has been here. And then I met Sara, who is compassionate as well as spunky, and always says the sweetest things.

There are also women I admire for their blog style. Bea and Ellen: I am always in awe of how wonderfully you write. Then there is Amy- I have never met anyone so open about her IF. Her strenghth and courage are trly inspiring to me. And finally, Gaelen- no one animates IF the way that you do!

And the women whose journeys keep me coming back to check on them: Ellie, S, Adrienne, May, Lunar Dreams, Cathleen, and Christina. Thank you for also coming by to check on me.

This post would not be complete without celebrating Mel. To me, she is the mother to all of us hopeful mothers. Her blog provided me with a safe place to go whether I'm looking for technical (yet layman-like) information, a shoulder to cry on, or a barrel of giggles.

Here's to all of you who I have met in the past year. I wish that we didn't have this common journey that joined us together, but I am ever so thankful that you are here. I want to send a special shout out to you who have conceived and/or given birth in this past year (there are 24 of you!)- you tryly keep my hope alive. It CAN happen. To those who haven't made it there yet, I wish that your journey takes you to a place where you find peace.

Thanks again, to all you fine folks. You have given me what no one else can.

PLIMBO

The white peach sangria: SO NOT worth it. After all this anticipation- IT WAN'T EVEN PEACH. I know- the disappointment that you guys must be feeling too!! I would much rather have been pregnant yesterday. More on that later.

Today is CD15. I don't know what possessed me (I am not into wasting money on HPTs) but we tested again this morning. It is confirmed. I am officially in PLIMBO (period limbo): the time between knowing it's a no-go and AF arriving. You have to forgive me, I can't for the life of me remeber who coined the term (if you know, please tell me so that I can give credit where credit is due.) I have stopped my progesterone and am simply waiting. So that, my friends is THAT.

So. The party. Friends of my parents (who are our age) showed up with their nearly-five-month old son. I hadn't met him until yesterday. He was so preciously delicious and well behaved. The parents were not at the party five minutes when I was handed the baby with a "you look like you want to hold him". (Did I really look like I wanted to hold him? I don't know?!! But there I was with baby in my arms.) And once I had him I did not want to let go. It was such an amazing feeling. Of course everyone at the party was having a field day with me walking around with the baby. Countless comments ensued: "It looks like it's time for you guys"; "You look so natural"; "I think you need to have one of your own"; and etcetera. I nodded politely and gave cute little smiles in response, but mostly wanted to scream: "Fuck you!" to them all.

But hell no, I was not letting go. Until I found my husband and handed Sir Delicious over to him. Man, was that a sight to behold. The baby got fidgety so The C handed the baby over to his mother (The C's mother, not the baby's mother.) The woman was in heaven! Bouncing the baby, talking to him in Portuguese, smiling and laughing. She was having a ball. And my heart was breaking.

Finally last night when we got into bed I shared with The C how wonderful it was to see his mother with the baby. (I had actually never seen her with a baby in all these years!) I have always had a small worry in the back of my mind about how it would "work" with my inlaws when The C and I had children. They don't speak much English, and I don't speak much Portuguese, so I was worried about how our children would have a relationship with them (if my husband did not make a conscious effort to teach them his language). Let me tell you that after seeing my mother-in-law with the baby yesterday, all those fears are gone. I know she is a wonderful grandmother (to The C's neices), but I am certain that even though there may be a laguage barrier between us, she will be fantastc with our babies.

I mentioned in Saturday's post that I hadn't cried yet. Last night the tears finally fell. Talking to The C about all this was jsut so heartbreaking. Each cycle is our loss, and it is really hard to deal with. But yesterday after seeing his mother (and then later my mother) with the baby I felt so sad that I am depriving them of that opportunity with our children. It just made me cry and cry. It's really so unfair.

WAITING FOR AF

Well I did gone go do it.

My husband's family is descending today (we will be 8 people in our small one bathroomed house), and the big bash that we are throwing for my father is tomorrow (hence the arrival of in-laws and such). I wanted to be "prepared". I just needed to know before I had no control over the rest of my weekend.

So I went to the drugstore last night to purchase some (rip-off) paraphernalia so that I could give my body the equivalent of its SATs. (You know, the big test that will decide your future...)

I woke up at 5:15 rarin' to pee. And my FMU did not let me down- strong and bold it poured over the stick. The stick that within seconds taunted me with only one line. I sighed, flushed, and got back into bed. The C did not even stir once. I tossed, I turned, I got back out of bed and headed here. So you guys know about this first. (Well maybe not, the man should be out of bed any moment, and he will be faced with the evidence when he walks into the bathroom.)

I haven't cried. And I don't know why. My emotions continue to confuse me at every point of this journey. It really all so bizarre. I have spent most of this 2WW cranky as cranky can be. I've been waiting for someone to say something to me (along the lines of: Ms. C, you are being such a biotch, what the fuck is with you), but no one has. Though I am definately feeling a sense of immense loss, a sense of lightness has come over me.

Last night the winds picked up and it thunderstormed all night. This morning the sky is clear and the sun is starting to come into my office as I type this.

Who knows what the future will bring...
(I'm guessing boatloads of white peach sangria for a start.)

2WW FILLER

8 Random Things About Me

I know that you have all been waiting anxiously for me to do this meme- I KNOW! And I am so sorry to keep you waiting for so long. I was just waiting for the right time. You know, with all the other exciting things going on around here, it's so hard to get time in for a meme. So without further ado...

1. I am a total neat freak and control freak, but for some reason my office desk is always a complete mess. Papers, bills, receipts, 2 phones, project folders, a zillion different lists... If anyone touches anything it drives me nuts, because although it's out of contol I still somehow know where to find everything.

2. I have a Bachelor of Fine.Arts and a Mater of Archi.tecture. My work uses skills that I gathered from both these fields, but is not something that you would imagine someone with these degrees doing as her "job".

3. Bad grammar drives me bonkers. Especially on professionally made materials (signs, menus, etc..) (I am aware that I am very guilty of it here. VERY aware. Which contributes to the problem. You know the old saying- the things that bother you the most about other people are the ones that you can't resolve within yourself. This is certainly a superficial interpretation of that saying...) Things that bug me the most: their, there and they're used incorrectly; its and it's- egad!; and the worst: using 's when it does not denote a posessive- that gives me shivers like when someone scratched their nails on a blackbord.

4. I went to an all girls pirvate high school. And I LOVED it.

5. The C and I met because we lived on the same floor in our university residence. One night we were drunk and he followed me back to my room. The rest is (pretty much) history.

6. The first place that I ever travelled to outside of North America was China. I went on a school trip when I was 16 (ummm... if this surprises you, see #4). It was an amazing adventure. Prior to that trip I had traveled to Toronto, Eastern Quebec and New Brunswick, California, and Florida.

7. I am fourth generation North American. My father's mother's mother was born in Nashville. She was supposedly a real "Southern Belle". All of my grandparents were born in North America (3 in Canada and 1 in the US), with their parents having come here in their childhood. This is really remarkable considering my Jewish heritage. Most Jews did not come to Canada and the US until the a generation later. As a result, it is also notable that I didn't have any family that was lost in the Holo.caust (baruch hashem). Another interesting fact: The C is Canadian by naturalization- he was born in Portugal and only came here when he was 15. Our children (halavai) will be 5th generation on my side, and first generation on his.

8. I love shoes. Especially black flats. Oy vey. I also love purses. You can never outgrow either of these things...
_____________________________________________________________

2WW update: NOTHING to report. No symptoms whatsoever. Perhaps I will be enjoying that white peach sagria come Sunday...

TO THE GOOGLER

If you are the person in New York who googled "If everything is normal why wouldn't I get pregnant right away":

It brought tears to my eyes just to see that in my stats. I'm so so sorry you ended up here. God, I hope that this is your only brush with infertility, darling. But just in case, you should know you have a wonderful support group right here. I wish you all the best.

IUIUIUI

This cycle was full of funny moments, let's review a few...

On CD11 when I went in for my u/s the nurse asked if I was starting to feel full and heavy. Indeed, I was, but The C piped in that it was probably because I had gas. I couldn't help but giggle, it is possible that I had gas (I will not lie), but I was certainly feeling the growth of the follies. The nurse looked my dear husband sqaure in the eyes and said with a straight face, "The C, you know that's an entirely different system, don't you?!" And I, feet in the air, head tilted back, was not able to hold back my reaction of "Oh THAT'S what we're doing wrong!"

On CD14 we stepped into the nurse's office so that she could prepare my hCG injection. I was to administer it at 9pm, so I turned to The C and commented that we would have to nix our date downtown (and go somewhere closer to home), because I like to do the hCG at home (it hurts alot for me, I like to be able to relax afterwards.) The nurse remarked that indeed it would be akward to lift my shirt, swab my belly and inject while sitting at the table. I pointed out that it just wouldn't be fair- The C would be left out of the process (he likes to "help" when I do my injections.) So the nurse offered to give us a spare sterile cup so that The C could be part of the fun and "do his business" at the table, while I do mine. We walked out of the clinic that morning thinking "did she really just say that??!!"

After our IUI* was complete, the nurse popped in a 10 minute video for us to watch, and told us she would be back in 20 minutes. A mere minute after the video ended The C started to get very antsy. He couldn't sit still, and wanted to get the show on the road already. (I was bare from the waist down, and again, pretty much hanging upside down.) After another minute he proclaimed that they must have forgotten about us (my clininc has two exam rooms, so this is an impossibility), and in true guy fashion he started to fantacize about ways to "break us out of there". (YES, I was quick to point out that we weren't locked in the room!) So The C starts talking about how he will make a condom bomb filled with various items in the room in order to blast the wall open. (He didn't seem so concerned that I was lying the half naked with my legs in the air...) THEN he says: "It will be like in that movie... what's it called..." (At which time I offer up names of movies where the characters "break out" of places: James Bond? Mission Impossible? And then I am given more info to work with: "You kow, the movie with the hot 80's guy?" Me: "Oh! Bruce Willis! You mean Die Hard!") (And I am lying there thinking- I just had an IUI- are we really talking about this right now??!!) So, The C continues: "Yes!! It will be like in Die Hard where that big black guy [...pauses to think of name...] G.ene H.ackman...." It is at this point that I completely lose it! I start laughing so hysterically the entire building must have shaken. I was loud, and I couldn't stop myself.

Finally, finally when I stopped laughing I said: "You mean S.amuel L. Ja.ckson, don't you?" And then the nurse arrived, our 20 minutes was up. (Boy did we get looks when we walked into the reception area...)


* As for the IUI itself, it went fine. The "new" doctor (a guy I think that they are training because I believe our doctor has a serious ailment-in that he can't talk-so he is looking to find a partner) did the IUI. I had met him before, and felt comfortable with him, but the procedure itself took longer (he couldn't get the catheter in), and so I was more uncomfortable. The C's swimmers looked great like last time (again we got to look at them under the microscope- so cool!). Everything seemed pretty textbook. There's only 12 more days until we know...