Tag: ovulation

The world’s worst presents.

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The day has finally come (tomorrow). The day I start my third type of fertility treatment – injectables with an IUI. Let’s see – I haven’t had a period since, (hold on, let me check a calendar) May 11th! That’s a long time! Today is CD 54, but I only know that because I just checked. I haven’t kept count since the day I found out 150 mg of Clomid was going to do nothing but cause me to go insane, and that was somewhere around CD 25.

Sidebar – I was at a thyroid appointment the other day (which is looking lovely, by the way -0.9 TSH is damn near perfect) and my doctor asked if I have been getting my periods regularly. I almost burst out laughing.

Anyway, I’ve been going through the proper steps to ensure a great time with my first set of shots. I watched the videos, asked a few clarification questions with the nurse, got a fantastic HSG completed successfully, and had my baseline blood work and ultrasound this morning. Oh yeah, and Christmas came early:

Kidding. These would make the world’s worst presents. The best thing about that picture is the watermelon I plan on consuming over the next few days.

Now, this morning’s ultrasound wasn’t exactly routine. I must say, first of all, that the wonderful condom-covered probing camera (known affectionately as the dild0-cam to most of you) was a comforting delight compared to whatever was shoved up there with the HSG last week. When we started, the nurse said, “You have a full bladder. Did you go to the bathroom?” I felt like a kid. Yes – I did! Like, 20 minutes ago! I can’t help the fact that I chugged a protein shake right before I got there…

Then, as he’s looking around in there, he discovers what I’ve known for a while – I have tons of little baby follicles in each ovary. Like, a lot. Like, he stopped counting and said, “Let’s just say there’s 30 in each one”. That’s a total of 60 follicles. That’s a lot of maybe-babies. Then he found one (I swear it’s that pesty cyst, back to say hello) and he says, oh, this one could be developing. If that happened, the cycle would have to be cancelled. But rest assured, there’s no way in hell I’m ovulating on my own. I would know it if I was. Anyway, I didn’t get any calls this afternoon regarding my blood work (which would have shown it), so I’m not concerned. After that was all over, I met with a nurse who went over the plans for tomorrow. She commented that it’s a good thing the doctor is starting me on a low dose (50 IU), because of the amount of follicles I’ve got in there. This leads me to an unpleasant thought – I feel like, if I’m going to have 60 follicles, I should’ve ovulated on my own. Or at least with Clomid. Maybe I’m not the typical type of person that does injectables with IUI, or IVF if it should come down to it. Clomid should have worked. But it didn’t. And my new fear is that even on the low dose, I’m going to produce too many eggs, and the cycle will have to be cancelled. I just really don’t want that to happen. I guess what I’m saying is simply that I want this to work. I really, really do.

With this type of treatment being so drastically different from what I’m used to – a simple pill for a few days – I hope I do it right. Not to mention the fact that I’m going to Maine tomorrow for a 3-day mini-vacation, and the drugs are coming with me. My first shot is tomorrow night, up in Maine. It can’t be that complicated – but I think I need to watch those videos again. My doctor commented last week that the first shot will take me 45 minutes, but 44 of those minutes will be the anxiety leading up to it. After that, it’ll be quick. I don’t think it’ll take me 45 minutes per say, but I can’t say I’m thrilled about doing this. In my stomach.

Also, different from many others is the fact that I don’t have my period. My doctor didn’t put me on Provera. So many nurses are asking me when my period has started, and I always have to explain I’m not getting it. So I’m not even sure what cycle day tomorrow is supposed to be – 1? 3? If you get your period, when are you supposed to start the shots?

And another question – approximately how long after the last shot do most of you trigger/ovulate? I know with Clomid you were supposed to ovulate about 10 days after the last pill. Is it similar for follistim?

Ugh. So many questions on this first round of injectables. Whether you’ve gone through injectables with an IUI, or IVF, is there anything you think I should know about any of this? Giving the shots, ovulation times, words of advice?

I’ll be back for another post once I return, and by then I should be an old pro.

My Time

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I’m back with a quick update.

I went in for blood work yesterday, and got the call yesterday afternoon that my …something…was 184? It was a new nurse, and the first time any numbers had been shared with me. I said, “What’s it’s supposed to be?” She said when you’re ovulating it’s between 200-400, so 184 was heading in the right direction. (Anyone know what this number is?) Then, she said, the doctor wanted me in today for another blood test (1 day later…really?) and an ultrasound. I never turn down an ultrasound – they are hard to come by!

So, regardless of the fact that today was the first day back at school after a week’s vacation (and therefore I really couldn’t take any time off), I sped to the office 40 minutes away first thing this morning and got them both done. Granted, I was a little late to school, but I planned ahead and got coverage.

Today’s results told me this: I’ve got one follicle, 16 mm. Deja vu? Yes, because that exact thing was told to me about two weeks ago, before I stair-stepped my second round of Clomid. I told the nurse that, and he dug around in there and found what that other nurse had told me was a 16 mm follicle..in fact it was a 16mm cyst. He said it would take care of itself on its own, but yeah, not a follicle. It never was. This time, though, I have one. I should ovulate in the next week, hopefully soon. My blood test came back as well, with the nurse simply saying on the voicemail that my estrogen is “going up” so the doctor would like me to start POASing.

Ha. Like I haven’t been using OPK’s for the last…6 months. I’ve probably spent hundreds of dollars on those suckers. Sure, I’ll start now.

If I don’t have a smiley face in the next five days…back for bloodwork.

I’m a mix of emotions today. You know, I’m kind of getting sick and tired of writing posts where I feel sorry for myself and fall into a funk. I’m sick of being that person. It’s getting old. I want to be happy.

Yet, it’s so hard to think any differently. As more and more of you bloggers get your BFP’s, sometimes I feel like…gosh, it’s so close! It’s right there – I just have to reach out and grab it! Maybe if I wish for it just a little bit harder, it will happen. Sometimes I say, yes, this is going to happen to me. I’m going to get pregnant, carry a baby to term and bring home a beautiful child that will look like my husband and I. I will be quite literally the happiest person on the planet. Maybe everyone else’s BFP’s will rub off on me – isn’t it time yet? Is it my time??

Then, even a minute later, my brain switches gears completely. It’s not happening for a long time, it’s such a ways away, I can’t even picture in my mind what it would be like to actually say the words, “I’m pregnant”.

Back and forth, back and forth. I can’t make up my mind as to what to think.

But I think the truth of the matter is, when you’re struggling with infertility, it is a roller coaster ride. I’m in love with everything baby one minute, the next minute if I see one more infant I’m going to scream. N and I talk about room colors, middle names, what it’ll look like one minute, the next minute I want to clean my brain of everything baby and pregnancy and seriously never think about it again. But of course, I do think it about it again. I think about it every single day, every single hour. And this cycle is a drastic improvement from the past – no google searches and Fertility Friend can’t remember my password. I’m doing better with not obsessing.

I have this new thought that it would be really awesome to have multiples (well, forget this reason, it would be awesome anyway). Of course, I know the risks to mother and babies and I don’t wish for that. It’s a completely irrational thought. I am only going to give birth to 2 (maybe 3, though N hasn’t agreed upon it yet) children. If I have any more after that, we’re adopting. If I had twins, I would never have to go through this again.

What a horribly selfish thought. It’s crazy, I know. I’m just saying, from an emotional perspective – tie my tubes, I’m done. I can only imagine the glee that would come with never having to suffer through this horrible, frustrating journey ever again. I could live life, enjoying what I have, without worry of my infertile future.

Having multiples or a singleton would be a miracle no matter what. My brain just wants a vacation from all the thoughts and feelings I have going on.

I have never wanted anything this badly in my entire life. I’m goal-oriented; when I want something, I go after it. I’ve nailed down jobs, a husband, college programs, dogs, you name it, by using this strategy. But this, this is different. I can hope and wish and mentally squeeze all of my limbs and wonder if that’ll help, but no thoughts in my mind will make me pregnant. To want something more than life, and to be denied it in a slow, torturous way…it just sucks.

I’m not in a funk today, I’m actually feeling better than most days, probably because of my follicle. But I can’t get my hopes up, not even to ovulate. I’m just going to…wait and see what happens.

Thanks for listening 🙂

 

Everyone needs a mental break.

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It’s so odd how sometimes, time plays tricks on you. I could’ve sworn it’s been at least a week since my last post, because mentally, that’s how it feels. Really, though, my last post was only last Friday. I suppose it really hasn’t been that long.

I have taken a mental break from TTC. Granted, not a complete mental break. That’s hard to do when you’re surrounded by people you know who are pregnant, or fellow bloggers who are pregnant, and you are either being a good listener or a good reader. Either way, for whatever reason, it has been just the slightest bit easier to hear about pregnancy. It still comes with pain that’s deep-down, but there’s also excitement. Especially for my friends who are expecting. It’s an exciting time, and I enjoy hearing about aspects of pregnancy that I think might affect me someday, like my own morning sickness, or how I’ll start showing. Of course, I’m jealous. That’s a given. But it’s not a quality that I want to parade around and show off. It’s not a quality that I’m proud of. So, for whatever reason, I’ve been able to feel more happiness and excitement for others, rather than jealousy. I just push that ugly emotion back down where it came from.

Actually, I’m sure there is a reason for my current mental calmness – my TTC break. I’m not actually on a break, but I’m currently in limbo, as I am most of my cycles. I finished my second stair-stepping round of Clomid, 150 mg, two days ago. Now, I’m waiting to ovulate. Hopefully I will, that’s issue #1. But since I did last time I stair-stepped, I expect I will. It happened on CD 18. Today is CD 11, so I’ve still got some time. I’ve come to find peace with the fact that Clomid is predictable for me. I ovulate only when I stair-step; that is, only when I get a double-dose of Clomid in one cycle. No matter what the dosage is, after my period, on that first cycle of Clomid, I don’t ovulate. The peace will be short-lived, though, because I’m not sure what the future holds.

Many of you mentioned how many other options I really do have after Clomid, and I appreciate your comments. I could try Femara. I could try injectables. And more. I do plan to mention all this to my dr. when I see him next, because, frankly, I don’t think I want to go up to 250 on Clomid. As you said, 150 is usually the max for a reason. And my hot flashes are getting old. If 150 doesn’t work, then maybe that’s a sign to do something else.

Or, what I truly think is, Clomid does work, but only after a double dose. I wish my dr.  had never even raised my dosage, because I don’t think it was necessary. I simply needed a double dose (or a trigger shot, but apparently he didn’t want that at this time.)

My chart this cycle looks like a complete mess. I have stopped temping. I believe I will start up when it gets closer, but for now, who cares? I know I didn’t ovulate yet; it’s too early and I haven’t had any pains. I don’t need my low temps to remind me of that fact. So no temping. I’m not checking OPK’s, either. Do you know how nice it is to pee when you want to, without having to count how many hours it has been to store enough up for POAS? My bladder appreciates it. We’ve also been BDing whenever we feel like it, rather than every other day, or with my mind on keeping things regular for conception. Whatever. It’s too early to matter right now. The IUI coming up helps out there, as well. No need to overly concern myself with timing, because of the IUI. The stress of TTC was taking a toll on me, as it does everyone at some point. This little mental break I’ve had is doing me a lot of good.

I couldn’t possibly do this, however, without other things on my mind. When you take TTC off your brain, you have to fill the void with something else. Luckily, these other things have naturally fallen into place in my mind.

It’s the end of the school year (well, starting to wind down). It’s my favorite time of year with my students. Remember how, a while ago, I posted about how I’m just not giving school my all? My brain was elsewhere. Now, it’s not. I have an awesome class. I’ve been teaching five years, and I’m lucky enough to say that 3 out of those 5 were excellent, with 2 in there that, eh, didn’t do much for me. But 3 out of 5 ain’t bad. And this current class is no exception. For the most part, they are sweet, kind, considerate, helpful, charming…and more. They vie for my attention and they want to hear all about the extras I teach them in spring, such as going off to middle school, and majors in college. We talk about jobs, and the news. When there’s time, I color with my girls, or in the past, I’ve taught anyone interested how to knit. When it’s nice out, I play basketball with my boys (and girls), and run races with them. It’s fun for me. And this happens every spring. Everyone is in a better mood, everyone is less stressed, including me. I don’t have children yet, but I do have 23 10 and 11-year old’s who do need me, from 8:30-3:00 Monday through Friday. I can’t let them down. So I’m in a nice zone there.

N and I are also busy with some house projects, including starting a vegetable garden. Rototillers are tricky little things, as we found out yesterday. But hopefully, with the amount of produce we are consuming, we’ll have lots of veggies grown right in our own backyard.

We are also on the Paleo diet..ish. It’s still not 100%. When there’s nothing else to eat, or I need something on the go, I have no choice but to make a sandwich. For that, I bust out my gluten-free bread. There’s also been the occasional sugar-free treat, like the homemade butter pecan ice cream we get down the street. It’s amazing. But for the most part, we stick to a diet of veggies and meat. It’s crazy how my hives have finally figured themselves out. I go a whole day eating no white carbs and no sugar, I have NO hives. I have that ice cream, or a little candy, or too much bread products in one day, I go to bed covered in them. It’s so obvious now what I have to do, and most times, it’s easy. Holidays or vacations, though, and it gets tricky.

I’m also considering topics for a book. Sounds stupid; I feel a bit stupid as well. But you know what? It passes the time. After flying through The Hunger Games and reading The Lucky One a few days ago in one day flat, I realized, I enjoy a good love story. Not a sappy one – no shirtless dude on a white horse to rescue the damsel in distress. Barf. But a good, old-fashioned love story. So, after brainstorming a million scenarios, I’ve started working on one. It’s funny – I’ll write for a little while, and then I’ll stop and say, what the hell am I doing? I’m not 13 here. This is dumb. And then other days roll around and I think, I like doing this. Who cares if it doesn’t turn into anything – I enjoy it. So, I’m in the middle of Chapter 1, with a Prologue done already.

Last but not least, we are going away tomorrow – just for two nights at a bed and breakfast, nothing crazy. But away from here, where we’ll see the sights, shop, relax, and of course, eat. I always enjoy that.

Hopefully, by the middle of next week, I’ll be in my TWW after my first IUI. Until then, it’s gone from my brain already.

The worst secret club ever.

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I tend to want to blog for one of two reasons: I’m excited and want to share, or I’m down and out and want to vent. This post falls under the latter category.

Let me preface by saying this: I hate whining, I don’t like being weak, I don’t like admitting to weakness that lasts longer than one blog post. I allow myself one post at a time and that’s it for a while. So here’s my one post.

I think my follicle has frozen in time. It’s CD 23, and still, no positive OPK. First of all, the nurse on Friday swore I’d get my smiley face yesterday, as my follicle was 16 mm on Friday. Secondly, even if my follicle is just growing really, extremely slowly, I don’t want to ovulate this late! It’s too late! There’s a reason they say that ovulating really late isn’t the best thing. The latest I’ve ovulated (out of the 2 times, ha) is CD 24. But I got my smiley face for that cycle on CD 22 and 23. Now, with no smiley on CD 23, I wonder, is it ever going to come? Has my body played yet another cruel trick on me – forming and developing a follicle, giving me some signs of ovulation, getting my hopes up for this first IUI, and then deciding to freeze there? Apparently, that’s a thing.

What will come of this? Well, I’m calling tomorrow and demanding an ultrasound Wednesday. I’m sure I’ll go in, they’ll see my follicle is right where they left it Friday, and then I’ll need to stair-step again, getting more Clomid before this cycle is over. Then, I’ll have this super giant follicle, but I’ll have to wait another 20+ days to get it. Doesn’t it say something if you have to stair-step two cycles in a row? And on different dosages of Clomid, no less? That’s a sign. One round of Clomid in a cycle isn’t enough – of either 50 or 100. I need something else. I do know about those injectables – maybe that’s something they would give to me?

But either way – and here comes my rant – it’s not freaking fair! Not that I’m not ovulating, though that isn’t either. It’s not fair that I have to go through any of this. It’s not fair that any of you have to. It’s not fair that this rough little bump in my life has come during a time of pure bliss for seemingly everyone else I know, that they have gotten pregnant all at the very same time. You know, if everyone else was struggling to get pregnant, I’m sure it wouldn’t sting quite as much. And I don’t wish that on them. But every Facebook post, every corner I turn, even my relatives continue to hint – why?

Easter was – well, okay. Not one of my bests. Mostly because my favorite reason for Easter (I sound horrible saying this but it’s quite true) is the guiltless reason to eat copious amounts of candy. Peeps, jelly beans, Cadbury cream eggs, peanut butter cups, anything with dark chocolate or marshmellow – I love it. I love it all. After ice cream, candy was my next favorite food group. This was my first Easter sugar-free. That is, sugar-free, gluten-free, dairy(ish)-free, grain-free, aka Paleo diet. Sure, I splurged on N’s sweet potatoes with splenda-infused brown sugar (Oh My!), and even indulged in a few sugar-free jelly beans (thanks, Mom, and Russell Stover), but it wasn’t the same.

Visiting my dad’s side of the family, whom I rarely see, I got a nice tummy-pat from my 80-something year old grandmother. Granted, she’s only about as tall as my stomach, but still – is she saying I’m fat? Or is she patting it to indicate that I should be pregnant right about now? Am I paranoid? Probably, but can you blame me?

At my in-law’s, a family friend of theirs commented as I held one of my dogs in my arms, “See? You don’t even need to have kids.” Now – this is a nice man. I’ve continued to say, regarding the 5,000 people who’ve made dumb comments like that to me in the last 6 months, all of these people mean well, and are nice. I even like some of them. But why the dumb comment at the Easter dinner table? Hmm?? I responded with, “Well….not exactly.” He must’ve been told by my MIL, or N’s aunt. They know, but I certainly haven’t personally told anyone else in his family about my struggles. Why else would he have said that if he didn’t know? So, what,  is my infertility the big Easter dinner table secret?

The truth is, I don’t want to hold these secrets anymore. As it is, I’ve told everyone I feel close to and the entire online world. And even that isn’t enough. I don’t want to keep this negative thing in my life around anymore – I want it out. If I’m going to keep any secrets at all, I only want ONE specific secret. And you all know what that is.

Daryl put it perfectly:  ” This community, in particular, feels more like a secret society, one to which having a set of unlucky circumstances is the only password.  One to which all the members wish they didn’t belong.”

I agree – and while everyone around me gets to head into the “we’re over the moon with excitement!” stage – I’m missing out on a rite of passage. It’s called motherhood. I’m stuck in a very weird place between an over-grown teenager and a young-looking, young-acting woman. Remember my Peeta celebrity crush? He’s 19 years old! The real issue going on there is that I either want to be back in college (with N, of course) living out my golden years without a care in the world, or with a baby in my arms. There is no happy medium. Some of you have described your possible ability to grow old without kids. For me, it’s not an option. We will exhaust absolutely everything to have a child, including adoption. Therefore – I know I’ll have kids. I’m not saying I won’t. Some way or another, it’ll happen. But this waiting-in-limbo thing, it’s horrible, painful, upsetting at times. It just flat out sucks.

And I have one other concern. Can you sense the bitterness, the poutiness, the unhappiness I display on a regular basis? The jealousy, the rage, the irritation? When I get pregnant, is that going to go away? Am I going to retreat back to my old self, happy-go-lucky with just a dash of being a bit high-strung? Am I going to find the positive in all the little things, stopping and smelling the flowers, if you will? Will I be a better listener to my friends, because I’ll be able to give them more of my brain space? Will I shower N with the attention and love he deserves, without ever having to fake happiness? Or have I done some irrevocable damage, and this will be the new me? I fear that this mutter-under-my-breath type of personality that has taken shape in the last year is becoming permanent, and I won’t even like to be around myself.

Okay, I’m done. As usual, I do feel a bit better. And after all this whining and ranting, maybe I’ll go and get a smiley face tomorrow. You never know. Sometimes you just need to get things off your chest! Thankfully, I know you guys have been there; you’ve been through it and then some. I only wish that none of us have had to.  No offense, but I want to belong to that other club, not this one.

Now, please, lil’ folly, please grow and turn into something hopeful.

My Dearest Wish

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I feel as if I’m in good enough form today to present myself to the world via blog.

I know and understand that everyone has down moments, and there are times that they are completely justified. I know my being upset with getting AF, after being so completely sure I was pregnant, might be justifiable to you readers, and for a few days, I was okay with it, too. Now, though, I want nothing more than to be the exact opposite of that needy, whiny, “woe is me” kind of person, because I don’t like to be that person. For the record, whenever anyone else feels this way, I think it’s perfectly acceptable. But I judge myself the hardest, and I don’t like to be in that kind of a state.

I grew up with one very optimistic parent, and one generally pessimistic parent. I have always wanted to be optimistic about everything in life. And in many ways, I am. I set goals for myself and I reach them, and when I do, I tell myself it’s because I kept my head in the game and stayed positive. TTC, however, is a different story.

Unfortunately, being positive doesn’t always come naturally. I’m the very first one to be positive about someone else. I have no problem with that. I find, though, that I tend to think negatively after a period of frustration. I guess most people do. But I’ve always wished thinking positively came more naturally than it does. I have to work at talking to myself in a positive way. So in the last few days, I’ve had to put some effort into telling myself to cut the crap, suck it up, and think positively. It did not come naturally. Finally, though, after forcing the thoughts for a day or two, they are here to stay. (At least until ovulation…)

So I didn’t get pregnant. There’s always this cycle.

We had an impromptu Chinese food lunch at school today. This was my fortune:

I am not a spiritual person, and I tend to roll my eyes at any saying with the word “fate”. That said, I certainly didn’t mind getting this fortune. As I walked back to my classroom after lunch and started thinking about how many fortune cookies probably say this same exact thing, because they know that basically everyone has a wish, and this would be a common thing to put in a cookie to get people’s hopes up for nothing (and to continue buying their food)….I attempted to remind myself to stop being cynical and just..keep the damn fortune and shut up. So I did just that, and if I get pregnant soon, I will, in no way shape or form, chalk it up to this fortune cookie and instead attribute my good luck to science, but I will remember that this fortune brought nice thoughts today, and I’ll take that, for sure.

So that’s that. Now, I have a question for you.

I don’t believe I’ve mentioned this before. With my high level of antibodies running around in my body doing a paranoid sprint, I develop hives from certain triggers. Mostly sugar, as you know. Gluten isn’t very good friends with my stomach, either. However, I can have sugar in the morning, but not night. I can’t have it alone. I can have an apple with lunch, but if I have it on an empty stomach..game over.Yesterday I had my yogurt (with 20 grams of sugar) at 2:00, by itself (like I do every day!), and within an hour I had a lip hive. It grew to full lip size and even put a nice lump in my throat all the way until about 9:00 this morning. Everything is so..random. It’s practically impossible to control.

I have had occasional hives in places that shall remain nameless, after a night in bed with N. I’m not going to be graphic. Let’s just put it this way. When my hives on the rest of me are especially bad, or could be if I ate the wrong trigger foods, I will have swelling and burning in the nether regions. It has been like that for years, but it’s sporadic. Sometimes I’m good to go, sometimes I feel like I’m going to throw up and I can barely walk. Mostly, though, it’s somewhere in the middle, with slight swelling, and possibly slight burning. The past couple cycles haven’t seemed to be a problem.

I told my RE about this when I first met him months ago, and he said, “Well, we will watch it, and we might jump right to IUI’s to bypass that problem.”

I remembered that, but started off on my Clomid journey, naturally. This past failed cycle, with perfect timing and all that…I realize it’s probably just…luck. The percentages of actually conceiving are never that high. However…what if it’s something else? What if, when the swelling and burning occurs, that’s my autoimmune system rejecting sperm? What if it never travels to its destination?

So I left a message with my nurse today, asking for a blood test.

She responded, saying that it is very rare to have an actual sperm allergy, and since this doesn’t happen to me every time, it’s probably not that. It is probably a sensitivity issue (just like with everything else in my system) to the proteins that travel, not the actual sperm. She said there really is no blood test to see that sensitivity.

I have four more cycles of Clomid to go,  naturally, before they try a few with an IUI. The nurse finished her message by saying that at any time if I am worried about this possibly being a cause of not being able to conceive, they can go right to IUI and skip the rest of the natural Clomid cycles.

So, I was basically offered IUI. Now. Or whenever I want. For me, though, this is a big step. It means technology is stepping in, and sex would not be the way to conceive our child. Am I ready for that? I have only had two natural cycles. That’s it. Swelling and burning was at an all-time low, but with the way my body has been acting the last few weeks, who knows.

N says it’s up to me, of course, and doesn’t really have much input. I wasn’t prepared to switch over yet, mentally, and I don’t want to go there, because if IUI fails, it’s one step closer to IVF, which is something I was hoping to avoid. Skipping four cycles of Clomid and going right to IUI means…IVF would be next, which is scary. No more natural cycles.

I really do not know what I should do in the slightest. Anyone who has had an IUI, what was the experience like? I’ll happily take your input – what do you think?

Not a happy girl.

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13 DPO, and I’m not pregnant. And I’m really upset.

I wasn’t going to post this weekend – whatever the outcome, I was just going to let it sink in before I wrote anything. That’s the problem – it’s not sinking in. I can’t accept this. And I’m also confused.

This is my chart.

I could not have asked for a better looking chart post ovulation. The temps kept climbing and climbing, I had lots of cm all the way through, and I made it through 9 and 10 DPO without spotting, like I did last time. Combine these beautiful temps with our timing, and I really, really thought we had it in the bag. I can’t emphasis enough how stupid I was, to be so sure of something, so convinced this happened that N and I started talking about due dates, and when he would take off work. How we would tell the relatives. Colors of a baby room.

Then, Thursday night (11 DPO), I had a small amount of spotting. Nothing major. I know implantation bleeding can happen as late as 12 DPO, so 11 DPO was certainly possible. I had no AF cramping, no AF signs whatsoever. But I started to panic. Then, yesterday, 12 DPO, after light spotting through the morning, I went to the bathroom at lunch to discover a horrible color – bright red. (Sorry for this TMI) I was upset, but I held it together. I threw in a tampon and finished the day. After I came home, I took out the tampon – no more red. Not even on the tampon. Back to a little spotting. Made it through the rest of the evening with nothing, or very, very light spotting. Did some Googling, it’s even possible to have a little bright red implantation spotting. It’s possible. I continued to hold out hope.

I also want to point out that on the two days I had spotting (the last two), my temp went up .2 each time for a total of a .4 increase. How could I have this spotting with that kind of increase? Hope continued.

This morning, as in 15 minutes ago, I woke up, removed the tampon I threw in overnight just in case, still spotting on it. A little bit of red as well. Very light, nothing major. I’ve got nothing right now at all.

I continue to not have any AF cramps, and I always have AF cramps. My temp continues to be up, though it dropped back .2 today, as you can see on the chart. I can’t officially call anything CD 1, because I need a regular flow for that, and that has not happened yet. But who has three days of implantation spotting this late in the game?

I have tested. I tested Thursday, yesterday, and this morning. All negative. Not even a trace of a second line.

I think it’s over. My body is being so cruel to me, in not giving it to me straight one way or the other. For dragging me through the mud. I still don’t officially, fully have AF. I have no signs of AF. My temps are high. But there is still spotting, still blood, still a little red. And negative tests.

I’m all for continuing to have some hope. It’s not over ’til it’s over, anyway. But at this point, this morning, I can’t do it anymore. I simply can’t. Holding out hope for the last week has caused me physical pain. I haven’t been able to sleep, my stomach’s been a mess. I’ve been nursing bananas and Gas-X. Something similar last time happened to me too, the last week. I’m such a wreck, because I’m so hopeful, yet so worried.

Last night, after being sure I was starting AF, N and I went out to dinner, and I ate and ate. I don’t care about the portions or the fat, I was happy that I craved food again, and could eat something that’s not off the BRAT diet. We went to the mall afterwards, stopped at Yankee Candle, had a PG rated good time smelling all the new scents, and picking out a few new ones for our home. I laughed, I paid attention to N, which I haven’t done since ovulation, basically. I’ve been glued to my phone.

If this cycle really is a bust, my goal for the next cycle will be to truly chill the f out (easier said than done, for me), enjoy life during the TWW, and the weeks leading up to ovulation. Which is basically my whole cycle. Enjoy life. Be with N. We will attempt not to talk too much about babies, but we enjoy it. It makes up hopeful. Hope is something you have to have. I think I just had a little too much of it this time.

That said, I still can’t. believe. it. Is it really over? Really? The way I felt 99% sure this happened, that was all in my head? I still don’t have the low temps or the sustained period to fully believe it. But who am I kidding. All those people out there who have found themselves pregnant in the last few months, and I could’ve sworn I would be joining them. I was so absolutely sure.

I know it’s just a BFN. And I know how many of you have gone through this, times 100. It’s just a negative cycle. I understand that, and I’m not meaning to say it’s the biggest thing in the world. I’ll have kids, I know that. I just completely threw my heart and soul into believing this was the one. I had a couple other people believing it, too. I can’t believe it didn’t happen. I still can’t believe it.

10 DPO, and I’ve gone mad!

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It has been three days since my last post, and I feel like it’s been years. Apparently I got used to frequent postings! I wasn’t going to post today, either, but I figured doing a little recap wouldn’t hurt. The reason I haven’t posted is because…

…I’m crazy. Totally insane. I’ve lost my mind, my sanity, I am completely nuts. All thanks to the fun and exciting TWW.

I am 10 DPO. A little cramping (feels like AF cramping, but then, it always has) here and there, hungry constantly (hello, emotional eating), and temps above the cover line. That’s it.

Last cycle, I spotted on 9 and 10 DPO, and got AF on 11 DPO. Hence, you can imagine my excitement at not having any spotting yet. That said, if I did spot, it could be implantation spotting, but since I wouldn’t know for sure, for my sanity I’d just like to not have any spotting, please. The other thing in the back of my mind is that I took B6 pills this round and the non-ovulation round as well, to lengthen the luteal phase. I have heard success of doing this with this pill, so I gave it a whirl. My fear is that my LP has been lengthened, but I’m not pregnant, causing me to wonder for additional days than necessary about why I haven’t spotted yet.

It’s only 10 DPO. I am not testing, yet. However, some people do get positives on 10 DPO. But what if I don’t? I can’t put myself through that. It will have to wait.

Ha – can you see how this post is going? It’s a whole bunch of rambling. While annoying, thank you for allowing me to spill it out, because that is exactly what goes through my head all day, every day. I woke up at 5:00 this morning, took my temp, started Googling. In bed. When I should’ve gone back to sleep for 45 minutes. But I couldn’t! How could I possibly sleep when I am this close to this amazing, life-changing goal?

I’m over-analyzing my chart, I know. However, does it concern you that my post-o temps are so…flat? Where’s the spike, for implantation? Where’s the drop, for implantation? This chart tells me I haven’t implanted anything yet, if I was going to at all. My thermometer is new, it works wonderfully..I’m a big fan. It’s not the thermometer. I’m really stuck at 98.2. If it jumps up, just once, a big jump, I will be thrilled. But I’d rather have it flat than a drop, too. This is torture.

I wasn’t like this last time. Not this bad. Partly because #1 I knew my timing wasn’t great last time, so it was a shot in the dark. #2 I thought it unlikely to happen the first time around, and #3, I had spotting at 9 DPO so it was all over before I could even consider all of this.

There have been so many BFP’s lately, especially with so many of you bloggers, and I just feel like…this could be so nice, to join you. If it doesn’t happen this cycle, I know it will another cycle. I know I’m going to have a child. It’s just…so hard to start all over. To take Clomid again, go through this waiting thing, again. Wait to ovulate, wait out the TWW. I can’t believe I am so close and I could simply be about to start it over again. Or…maybe not. Maybe I have something here. The timing was practically perfect, after all. I just wish these stupid AF-like cramps would go away and stop worrying me.

There’s a lot riding on this cycle, and I’ve really put my everything into it. I’m hoping for a miracle!

“Living”

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Today’s photo challenge is like a word of advice out of a fortune cookie. I need to put this word into practice.

See, even though I claimed a few weeks ago that the TWW would be great; so much better than waiting to ovulate,  it’s really not much better. You start to play head games with yourself.

Some days (like the last few) I run through our timing in my head, what my so-called “symptoms” are, look it up online, and truly believe I could really be pregnant. Other days (like today) I wake up with basically zero symptoms of anything, no reminders of why I am waiting around like this, and I think – “Do you know how many people have ‘symptoms’ that turn out to be….AF?” How many times have people gone through that? A million. I can’t count my chickens before they hatch (ha).

And during this TWW, I’m not really “living”. I’m going through the motions. This weekend, I brought no school work home. I was so excited to not have to do anything work-related, and I could use my time wisely and catch up…do whatever I want! Books, magazines, the final episodes of The Tudors..anything. DH and I could hang out.

But during my downtime, which is constant this weekend, what have I done? Scoured the internet. Even this morning. I just spent like two hours online. I could’ve crawled back in bed with DH after taking the dogs out, but no. I stayed up just to….feel more confused.

I’m not “living”, not the way I want to. How does one “live”, exactly? In my opinion, I’d be doing things that are completely unrelated to anything baby, and I’d be doing those things without thinking about said baby. That’s “living” for me, right now. While I’ve already ruined Saturday, I will make it my goal for today to do things/think things that have nothing to do with pregnancy. I don’t know what’s in store – a long walk with the pups, maybe run a few errands, catch up on those magazines – but whatever it is, it won’t involve the TWW.

If I can manage it, I’ll say that I “lived” today. It’s too bad I wasted the entire last week with my brain space focused on the TWW, when I could’ve been “living”. But I have another full week to go (hopefully without getting AF..) and I must do something with myself.

This is being in limbo; it’s not “living”.

Before N and I were trying for a baby, we “lived” on a regular basis. We’re not adventurous (well, I’m not), we’re not the bar-hopping types, but we did all sorts of fun things together, all the time. My happiness was solely focused on my other half. That’s how I felt myself “living”. Now, I wonder how many TTC weeks have gone by, taking advantage of N and my happiness with him, focusing on why I’m not happy.

I’m telling myself words of advice. I understand why I’ve been feeling this way, and it’s okay to think like this sometimes. But the time has come to revert back to my old life, before TTC, and let whatever happens, happens.

So. N told me last night he’s making gluten-free, sugar-free blueberry oatmeal pancakes for breakfast, and he wants to be up around 9. I’m going to go in that bedroom, wake him up (and subsequently beg for food), and ask him what he’d like to do today. It’s sunny, it’s going to be relatively warm, and I am going to make the most of this day, dammit.

Here are a few memories of when N and I were “living”.

Climbing Mendenhall Glacier in Alaska on our honeymoon.

N flying high on our Mediterranean cruise ship this past summer.

Sweaty and disgusting, having just completed our first marathon in October 2010.

“Living” proof.

6 DPO; “heal”, “soft”, “love”.

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I’ve been playing with fire. I’ve been pushing the limits. I’ve been….Googling every little “symptom” I may or may not have. Why? Why would I put myself through this? It’s torture!

It’s torture because I have a few “symptoms” and I didn’t even notice that I’ve been walking around, internally strutting my stuff because in my mind, I’m pregnant.

It’s very dangerous, and I know that. Some days I swear it has to be true, other days (like today) I wake up and think, “What are you doing?” Can’t I focus on something else for two weeks?

Those of you who have been down this road many times before know how foolish I’ve been, and I agree. I had so many months of not ovulating at all. This is only my second time dropping an egg. So yeah, my hopes go way, way up. Especially when I got the timing down very well. The more times I ovulate, I imagine the less I will get my hopes up. I’m trying not to do that, but it is proving impossible.

There’s no going back. I’ve already caused possible future damage, imagining when I will be telling family (Easter is coming up..) and which coworker friends are going to know soon, and even daydreaming of that 8-week ultrasound, to see a healthy little bean. This is all very stupid of me. Very, very stupid.

I’m not even going to mention my little symptoms, because that would give them more credit than I’m sure they deserve. They come and go, anyway. Talk to me in a week, though, and maybe I’ll be singing a different tune. Until then – back to the photo challenge!

I’m a few days behind. Behold, “heal”.

For me, “healing” comes in the form of two specific places; Maine (first picture), and Cape Cod. For those who don’t know this about me, I’m a total sap. Not like a “cry at the movies” kind of sap – but a nature sap. Being certain places in nature makes me listen extra hard for the quiet, peaceful, calmness that in turn makes me feel quiet, peaceful, and calm. I love the smells, the breeze, etc. Whenever I can find myself in a place like this I imagine an internal new-age song playing in my head. In college, being homesick, I frequently imagined walking through an open field with N, taking in the side of a white picket fence and strolling hand in hand. I mean, this nature sap thing runs deep. These particular places are two of my favorites. I try to go to to both at least once a year. My grandfather lives in Maine, and the top picture is off his dock, looking at the lake. At his house, the world is perfectly silent, except for an occasional loon, and we play cards and read until we fall fast asleep with full bellies. It’s my idea of perfection, basically.

The Cape holds many memories, as I went there on vacation every year as a child and teenager. I look forward to having enough money in a few summers to rent my own cottage there for a week, hopefully with children digging in the sand beside me.

Having the opportunity to be in places like this keep me recharged. Whatever might be going on is promptly healed after spending a few days in a place like these. Right now, I’m in need of a recharge. Unfortunately, I won’t be going back to Maine until at least May, and Cape Cod, probably the summer.

Now, onto “soft”. I have a very soft blanket I thought I could mention, but I’d rather take this as an excuse to show off soft, by way of furry.

These puppies of mine are very soft. Sadie’s head is especially soft, but her back isn’t, because she has a few layers of fur. The top layer is a little coarse. Riley’s whole body is soft, as she only has one thin layer of fur. Riley’s picture is not recent, as you can see all the grass behind her. And you can clearly notice the quality! Top picture – iphone. Bottom picture – good camera. Oh well. You get the idea.

Finally, “love”. So many options here, but I’ve decided to go with this one:

My wedding day was one of the best days of my life. Seriously, it was perfect. There’s that nature piece again. I knew I wanted to experience those nature-provided feelings on my wedding day, and it was beautiful. We’ve been married two and a half years, and this trying-for-a-baby thing wouldn’t have even happened had we not fell in love and gotten married. Before children, there will always be the two of us.

“Purple”

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Before I get to the photo challenge for the day, let me update on my ovulation chart.

I am still confused. Here is my chart:

Ignore those first 30 days…Clomid 50 mg decided not to work the second time around, so I “stair stepped”. Ignore the three positive OPK’s…it’s really more like two, but it doesn’t matter. The second one was the big one. So here’s my confusion: Fertility Friend confirmed what I always thought to be true – that you ovulate on the day of your low temp, the day before your temp jumps. That’s what I have thought all along, and it looks like many of you have, too. Fertility Friend agrees.

Here’s where the problem comes in. It’s not the OPK’s. I know that they can be somewhat unreliable, and so I’ve taken that with a grain of salt. The issue is my nurse. I had my blood taken on the day of the temp jump (CD 40…though really CD 19). She called me, that day, and said these exact words, “Today’s the day. It looks like you are surging today.” I took that to mean I ovulated that day. I suppose that may not be true but that’s the way I interpreted it. Therefore, she was saying I ovulated the day of my temp jump, not the day before. Maybe my nurse is wrong, and if so, that’s a bit problematic. But she sounded so sure. My count of whatever must have been high.

Does this really matter in the end? Well, not really. But, I was trying to go for a perfect Fertility Friend score. Do you guys know what I’m talking about? Fertility Friend has this pregnancy monitor, and if you have sex three days, two days, and one day before ovulation, plus the day of, and the day after, you get a perfect score. Chances would be “very high” that I would be pregnant. If I ovulated on the day of the temp jump, I would have a perfect score. But with Fertility Friend telling me I ovulated the day of my low temp, I only received a “high” score. Ha. I’m being so picky about it.

That’s just me looking for every little sign that this may actually work.

Now that I’m in the TWW, and loving that I’m finally here, I have paid Google a visit. I swear it didn’t damage me..I’m fine. I did want to know about the insane amount of creamy CM I’ve had since I ovulated. Like, an insane amount. You know, I was just curious. Just…passing the time. NBD. And I found this link. If you are feeling down and frustrated, I don’t recommend looking at this. It checks the most ridiculous of early pregnancy symptoms, and let’s you know how many people have reported those symptoms. I almost wish I didn’t find it. But I did…so…

Regardless of what happened exactly, I ovulated, for sure, and our timing was good. We will see what happens.

Today was one of those days. It’s baby-palooza, let me tell you. All of a sudden, everyone and their mother is pregnant. Someone I work with announced her pregnancy today. I’m very happy for her, and I told her so. But I practically broke in a cold sweat as she said, “I just wanted to let you all know that…” My hands started shaking. Seriously, take it easy!

Then, hours later, we were out at recess, with some other staff members who are not normally out when I am out there. One woman was talking to the newly pregnant coworker, and then she said, “It would be so fun to have a lot of babies around here. Who’s next? Megan?” Really? Seriously? Honest to God. Here we go again. I decided to take the bull by the horns and I said, slightly sarcastically, “Yeah..workin’ on it.” That kept her quiet. I’m trying, okay? I’ve been trying. I needed medical intervention. You just don’t ask those questions!! And while this process has been very frustrating for me, there are so many people who have it so much worse than I do. What if I was really going through the ringer? You don’t know, when you ask a question like that, what people have gone through. That’s why you don’t ask. Oh well, now she knows. She can go and tell everyone if she’d like, I don’t care. I’m trying. I’ve been trying. Right now we can all focus on my coworker. It’s her time in the limelight.

Who knows, maybe I’ll have a huge positive secret to keep in a few weeks, rather than a negative one. That would be pretty nice.

Okay, on to the photo challenge. “Purple” was tougher than I thought it would be. I love purple. It’s one of my favorite colors, and I wear a lot of dark, plum purple. However, taking a picture of one of my shirts wasn’t doing it for me, so I started looking around the house for something purple. This was the best I could do:

Yes, this is a vacuum. But not just any vacuum. It’s brand new – we got it yesterday, using our credit card points. This vacuum is supposed to be top of the line in removing animal fur. This is a big problem in my house. As you can see, we have mostly hardwood floors. Dog fur is everywhere. We do vacuum every weekend but it’s not enough. This is supposed to be really good, so we will see. Either way, it’s purple.

Is this week over yet?