Third time’s a charm????

Well pregnancy number three was only one failed iui cycle after my scary ectopic pregnancy.  It would have been great timing if it had worked out.  I got my blood test results back the day of my husband’s awesome office Christmas party.  Happy results- crummy timing =)  I suppose it truly was my turn to be the designated driver.  So my hcg levels were on the low side but nothing to cause alarm…. They rose appropriately for about 2 weeks.  Which, by coincidence,  was the time frame that ALL the Christmas parties we were to attend that season were in.  Now, of course, I don’t mind not drinking if I am pregnant but I just had a feeling.  So less than a week before Christmas I got the news…my betas were falling.  I should expect a full blown m/c any day.  That was a Friday, Sunday was the Church luncheon and the day we decorated the church for Christmas- it is usually one of my favorite days, carols, friends, the smell of the is wonderful.  Except I just found out about my latest loss…oh..and that morning during the service..the cramps began.  AAAHHH!!!! I swear I totally felt like I was being punished for something totally horrible I did in a past life.  Maybe I was Hitler or something because it is getting really bad.  To make matters worse we had fewer volunteers that usual and my best friend wasn’t there because she was sick – I really wanted to talk to her and tell her what is going on. 


So I bled/cramped for over a week – on Christmas Eve when we had the big dinner at my house I was still cramping and bleeding.  Now almost no one knew we were pregnant at all, and therefore, certainly didn’t know about the loss in progress so I had to play happy hostess.  Yick.  I have never had such a stressful and upsetting holiday ever.  If you knew me you’d realize I am generally brimming with holiday spirit.  My Christmas cards always arrive in your mailbox the day after Thanksgiving, my tree goes up the same day, I am done shopping usually by Columbus Day and I LOVE the month of December.  One of the hardest things was pretending when I was not cocooned in my own safe haven that I was still cheerful and my heart wasn’t really shattered into a million pieces.


I am sure I don’t have to even say it.. but New Year’s Eve I drank more than enough to make up for what I missed earlier in the month and I couldn’t WAIT for a new freaking year!


Trying to catch you up! (M/C #2)

So I was going to start from the beginning of my journey and write until I “caught up” but the fire has changed things.  I don’t really want to look too much in the past right now so I am going to talk about now. I am going to catch up really quick so you understand where I am now and then we will talk about my current state of being “a little bit pregnant” and the fears that I think/hope will be here for another 29 weeks.  

This is pregnancy number 4 and I still have nothing to show for them except some scars on my abdomen.  It took 12 months of cycling to get the first one.  As you may remember, that was a “low positive” and my introduction to Beta Hell.    

The second pregnancy took…you guessed it.. 12 more freaking months!!!!  That one I had a much better beta and I was told all was well.  I didn’t believe it though – something inside me just felt it was not right.  I kept going back to the doctor over the next couple of weeks and they would do u/s or blood work and all was well.  Still I knew- I knew I did not turn into a hypochondriac overnight.  I knew I was nervous but not insane – I knew it wasn’t right.  So at my 6wk u/s – before we went to the track for a relaxing afternoon of horseracing all was allegedly fine.  U/S showed exactly what it should have.  Life was good.    

Monday’s u/s was awful- I had been spotting and when I went in my little sack was gone.  Thank god my husband showed some sense and met me unexpectedly at the doctor because I was a mess. was “all ok” right?  See I KNEW I was always right!  It sucks to be right this time though.    

So we go home to grieve another loss, a couple of hours later the pain started, REALLY bad pain.  I was actually screaming in pain.  My husband called the RE and when she heard me screaming she told him to get me to the ER ASAP.  We walk into the ER and there are a slew of people waiting – Craig has me sit while he checks me in..and I am still screeching intermittently – I am trying not to and keep apologizing to those around me but it is just flying out.  Primal pain.  A horrible noise I never want to hear escape my body ever again.  So between the fact that I told my husband to tell the ER it could be ectopic and the fact I was scaring the rest of the patients they took me right in.  Finally, I could get some relief.. give me some damn drugs!  Well when I finally got drugs we realized I must have been allergic to the first set.  I was still in pain but now felt I could no longer breathe, I was freezing and threatened that I would die immediately if they didn’t let me stand up (I don’t know why but I felt I HAD to stand).  So now wee try some others.. all too the tiniest edge off but none even came close to touching the pain. 

It was determined that I have an ultrasound at the hospital.  So they pumped more drugs in my iv (that still didn’t work) and sent me downstairs for what would be the longest more horrible ultrasound EVER.  The freaking girl took FORTY-FIVE MINUTES with that wand all the way up to my throat while I tried not to writhe in agony so she could take her damn pictures and get me the hell out of there.  Guess what she saw…. Not a damn thing… boy THAT was helpful. 

So back to the ER.. they took an hcg and it seemed my levels had plummeted in the 3-4 hours since I had been at my RE’s office.  They decided that it was just a “simple miscarriage”.  Um, simple? Are you KIDDING me?  I knew it had to be an ectopic- I KNEW IT WAS- u/s or no.  I begged for methotrexate.. BEGGED.  I was a little loopy so I knew I was talking too much and I told her that since it was obvious that anything in there did not want to be anymore then it was prudent to do the shot.  That I knew the child I had inside me was not to be mine yet and needed to go and I didn’t want to risk losing a tube for something that was not viable.  I kept bringing it up and they said it was not necessary.  So they decide to admit me because my blood count is low and they don’t know where it is going or why. 

Guess where I go.. the freaking maternity ward.  Can you believe it?  I had been promised a private room because I was still in agony and the drugs were not working.  We get upstairs and they decide they are going to try to “save” the private room and put me in with a woman who had a baby by c-section that day.  I tried to deal with that until they said my husband had to leave.  Oh no- they were not leaving me in agony, bleeding internally where they couldn’t figure it out in a room with a woman who just had a baby.    I made them get the floor nurse who heard me moaning before she even came in the room and they wisely decided to let me move and let him stay to take care of me.  I couldn’t move at all now without incredible pain- not even to breathe.  So overnight the pain (with the help of a lot more meds) began to settle to where I stopped moaning.  The next morning it was decided since my hcg was waaay lower than the night before and that the pain was tolerable with oral pain medications I could go home…even though my red blood count was very low but no one seemed to worry about that.    

Remember this was now only Tuesday.  All week I felt “off” and still knew something was not right. Friday I went back to the RE’s office for yet another u/s.  They realized then that it appeared I had an ectopic (really? Who could have predicted).  The look on their faces was scary even though they tried to hide it.  They told me to go home and wait for a call but to prepare myself for possibly having to have surgery.  I am now terrified.  Not even two hours later my regular OB/GYN calls (who is also a patient of the RE) and says my hcg levels are very high and I need to immediately get to the hospital for surgery.  Holy crap.  I call my husband, my mother-in-law so she can take the puppy (I was still feeling guilty about the fact he had been alone all night on Monday) and my brother so he was aware of the situation and so I could tell him I loved him (can you tell I was thinking the worst?).  I took off my jewelry, packed a bag for the puppy, found my healthcare proxy and my living will and off we go as soon as my hubby walks in the door.    

My mother-in-law is awesome, she was waiting at the hospital so she could be with me while my Father-in-law took the dog back to his house.  We went to my room where I was cracking bad jokes with my doctor (she asked about Rh factor and I told her hubby and I were both A-negative and when she commented how unusual that was I told her it often runs in blood relatives –HA! You should have seen her face at first).  So my MIL took care of my hubby while my doctor took care of me.  They took my baby and my tube.  In once short week I went from undiagnosed to down a tube.  They think I was pregnant with twins and the first one m/c over the weekend which is why the sack was gone and the hcg dropped and the second one was hiding in the tube.  It was horrible to find out that I was carrying twins and lost them in the same day.  Damn that ER doctor for not giving me the methotrexate!  Who knows it may have been too late to save the tube by the time I got to the hospital on Monday – but now I’ll never know.  

The nurses were wonderful – when I left they gave me a guardian angel pin and an angel bear (the bear still sleeps on my nightstand) and were just so kind. 

And. It. Was. Over.  Again.    

Wow- that was a lot about m/c #2.  I’ll have to write about number 3 later. So we can catch up to “currently in progress” scary pregnancy number 4. 

This entry was posted on March 28, 2008. 2 Comments

The fire.

I am back.  Worse for the wear but back nonetheless.  I have been through some of the hardest ordeals of my life and that is saying a lot.  No one should ever have to plan dual funerals.  No one should ever have to pick though the rubble of a burned out house for a will, or family pictures or any such thing.  No one should have to stand in a shell of a house and look over and know where the exact spot your father burned to death .  To walk by the bathroom and know his wife of  20 years died on that floor of smoke inhalation.  To know that all the pain and hurt and anger from your childhood will now never be resolved.  It is over.  Then you find out that chances are your own family member caused his death and the death of his wife by selfishly smoking while on oxygen.  So now it is his fault we are going through this.  More anger but now it feels so inappropriate because he is dead- and in such a terrible way.  The first time I was ever at this house (other than just driving by) was at 4:30 am on that terrible day – my brother’s birthday- to help the firemen try to figure out where they are.  My father was so badly burned that the firemen did not realize he was a person. The call from the police said they were missing and the house was in flames.  100 foot flames at times. Horrible – it has been over a month and I still think I smell like that awful smoke.  Making those phone calls.. telling the other children… writing his obituary….planning his funeral…overwhelming.  Sorting out what you can because the insurance company requires to list everything down to the number of socks they owned and hoping we have enough recognizable items to meet the policy amounts.  Trying to decide how and when to tear down the house – to eradicate the physical remnants of lives lost.  Then the legal baloney- no will = a lot more work. Being the oldest and most levelheaded sucks.  Thank god one of my brothers is also responsible and levelheaded.  Trying to keep everyone happy and everything fair.  Finding my babybook wet from the fire and trying not to cry too hard in front of my brother because he is so close to that also.  The end of what could have been.  No chance now of reconciliation – of closure.  Just soot and crushing sadness.   

Did I mention that my stims for my current ivf started the day after the fire?  So much for a calm, relaxed, stress-free cycle.  It was my best responding cycle so far- 6 beautiful blasts – three transferred – the other three made it to freeze.  A big fat positive last Friday.. best beta I ever had.  Monday’s beta- amazing! It more than tripled!!! 34.5 hour doubling time!  Could this be my dad’s way of making everything better?  Of showing appreciation for how hard I am working on his behalf?  Of giving me something I so desperately want since he took so many other things away?  I almost feel joy.  I almost believe that THIS is IT!  I actually looked at nursery decorations on line to “get ideas”.  And then.. yesterday… the spotting and here I am.  Crushed .. again.. hoping for the best but expecting the worst because that is where my life is right now.  In a deep pit of gloom and I am trying so hard to climb out—truly—but I keep getting slapped back in.  Tomorrow I find out more about my baby- if it is still there and if it looks like he/she wants to snuggle in for a while longer. 

I’ll let you know.

This entry was posted on March 27, 2008. 2 Comments

A delay in new posts

In the early hours of this past Friday my father and his wife passed away in a horrible fire that ravaged their home.  I will be taking care of my family obligations but will write again as soon as I am able.  I am also at the beginning of a new ivf cycle so I am going to try to stay as calm and cool as possible over the next few weeks.  Thank you for understanding and I look forward to talking to you all again soon.

This entry was posted on February 25, 2008. 18 Comments

My first ivf

Alright- now I am officially, frighteningly, actually, doing ivf.  What the hell happened?  I have no idea how I got here but on I go. 


My protocol didn’t change much due to the switch so in all honesty it isn’t much different.  This is actually something I regret about switching in the middle.  Even though they don’t care if I have a flock of follicles for my iuis they do try to slow them down a bit so it doesn’t get too out of hand so for ½ of the time I have been on stims they have been trying to make sure I don’t get too over-stimulated – what I learned is that you can’t really catch up.  The 6-8 strong follicles I have this month cannot and will not wait for me to make even more.  I hear other peoples statistics, “15 egg, 10 fert, 8 embies, 2 transferred, 1 or 2 frozen”, etc. and I get really worried I have less follicles than they even have embryos.  I think that if I had started differently from the beginning I would have had a better turnout and thus made better use of my “discounted” ivf. 


The night prior I take my hcg trigger so that my eggs are mature.  I have been doing shots for 10 months by then and feel pretty confident…until they showed me how.  They made such a big deal about how some people wind up injecting the saline rather than the drug, and to make sure I use every drop! I was so nervous… by the time I went to mix it I was shaking.  If I screwed it up I would have no eggs and would have wasted all that money.  When I tell you that I got  every…..last….drop….. I did.  It was absurd the lengths I went to to totally drain the vial.  I think about it now and laugh but there was no laughing then – I even had gotten my poor husband in a totally tizzy about getting every last drop.  Methinks it was also an accumulation of stress about the next day but I didn’t see that then either. 


Suddenly the day arrives that we have to drive the 2.5 hours to the clinic for the procedure.  I think I forgot to mention this important tidbit.. to get the grant I have to go to the branch of the clinic that has been open longer than mine.  There needs to be 3-5 years of statistics for the clinic to qualify and my branch has only been open for a year and a half or so.  So.. off we go at 4-flipping-am.  I am so keyed up I drive.  Otherwise I think I’d go nutty.  Due to the fact that I am being put under shortly I am not allowed to eat or drink anything.  If you knew me you’d know how awful it is for me not to drink anything.  I ALWAYS have a beverage with me.. always.  So it was a loooong dry ride.


We get there and it is obviously a clinic that has been open longer than mine.  For one, I had to wait for than 5 minutes for them to take me in which at my office is the longest I ever wait (and yes, I do know I am spoiled).  And two, it doesn’t look like it just fell out of a pottery barn catalog.  My clinic is very soothing and pretty.  Nothing ever out of place, comfy leather couches, and a great chair that I will take home with me one of these times. 


It is funny, even though I have never been there most of the staff knows my name and my husband’s name.  Nice and weird at the same time.  Off I go.. they send me to try to pee which I do about 100 times a day (all that water you know) but because I am nervous I can’t.  GGGrrr.   So I go and put on my little ugly gown, booties and hat- man I look HOT!  Let’s make a baby- oh wait – I won’t actually be here for that part.


Alright, so under I go, cracking jokes the whole time.  I wake up and I am alone except for a nurse- I tell the nurse that my left side really hurts for some reason and maybe she should tell the doctor before they start?  She laughs as she informs me that it is already done and that is why my left side hurts.  Oh- duh! 


Here is my favorite part…. They bring my husband in to see me before he goes to do his part – alone and without needles – so I say good bye and good luck, and then remember that I had just read something that says a man’s sperm is much more vigorous after watching porn- kind of a survival of the fittest or one-upman ship or something- so as he is on the way out the door I (not as quietly as I thought) shout “THINK PORN”.  I see the shocked expression on the nurses face and hear the laughter in the hallway.  Um, yeah… waaaaayy louder than the speaking voice I thought I used.  I am sure they know me a the porn woman or something. 


Well, they only got 4 eggs in the end.  Not nearly as many as I was hoping for.  This goes back to the regret that we didn’t start out the cycle as an ivf so we could have been more aggressive – who knows how many I would have had – during the stimming we even had a couple of days where I took only Lupron because I was reacting so fast.  The “what ifs” will really kill you if you let them.


On the way back home in the car I believe I sang and sang and sang to my poor husband.  Usually I have a pretty decent voice- that day was the exception- even I could tell I wasn’t on pitch but I felt so “relaxed” I could have cared less-


Since we only had 4 eggs I knew it would be a three day transfer and just held my breath (once I was done singing) until the next day.  Well three of the four fertilized and looked good.  I’ll take 75%.  In my mind the alleviates my worst fear- that my eggs were hard-boiled and ruined.  If I had that good of a fertilization rate and they said all looks good than I must be ok.  A HUGE sigh of relief and hope flood through me that someday I might actually get my take home baby.


Bright and freaking early (again) we are on the road.. this time we will come home pregnant – sort of.  I am afraid to take my valium too early so I am holding on to it and, of course, this time there is no wait once we arrive at all.  I take it as fast as I could and just willed it to start working.  Apparently they were swamped with retrievals and transfers that day  so I ended up in an odd procedure room underneath a huge x-ray machine I assume is the for the hsg testing- not very comfortable and more than a little intimidating. 


Dr. K comes in.. says hi..blah blah.. whatever..get to the good stuff.. he says all the blasts look very good and he is going to put all three in.  My husband almost fell over at the thought of triplets and needed to be talked off the ledge with the very important fact that the chance of triplets is incredibly low – ok.. back on track. 


So Dr. K is getting everything ready. I am in the stirrups and he has the drape up so high I am in full view to the world.. then he leaves and goes to get my embies..and leaves the door open…did I mention that I am facing the door? Yeah- luckily almost all of my modesty was sucked away after the first year of thrice weekly vaginal ultrasounds.


The rest of the transfer is pretty standard.  Nothing exciting to report.  The only annoying thing is my husband.  We have gone through over a dozen iuis at this point and I always ask him to talk to me about anything while they are inserting the speculum and catheter – you would think that he has gotten the hang of this right? Um… sorry to say.. but no.  I keep asking (actually begging) him to talk about something so I can focus on his voice instead of the pain I know is coming and so I can try to relax but all he does is oh so freaking quietly ask me questions.  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I DO NOT WANT TO TALK RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  That is what he is there for.. I even try to give him a list of topics and he doesn’t talk, just prompted question after freaking question.  (My next transfer will be hopefully in 2-3 weeks and I am going to call him right now and tell him to think of a list of topics now to TALK to me about.. not ask if I think we should replace the furnace this year.)


Ok— so other than THAT- which I am obviously more annoyed about than I thought I was – it was pretty uneventful.  After the transfer and before I am allowed to get up the doctor comes over and holds my hand and my husbands hands and places them all on my stomach and tells me to believe or something to that effect.  Oddly enough I found that to be more intimate than when he had his head between my legs a few minutes earlier. 

So I go home..with the picture of my little embies…and wait. 

This entry was posted on February 12, 2008. 1 Comment

An unexpected change of plans

Ok- so I have been back on injectables for several more months now and nothing has happened.  It is driving me nutty because every response I have to the meds is great but winds up a big fat negative in the end.  Fine-  so I am preparing for another iui and am already on stims and have been for a few days.  New York State offers this grant program to certain clinics depending on their performance that you are allowed to use only twice to help offset the cost of the ivf and it includes meds, it includes anything that your insurance won’t cover so for me that is the whole kit and caboodle.  So in the middle of my iui we find out that the program is almost expired and it is use it or lose it time.  Apparently every year it has to be added to the State budget again and in 2007 they were not sure that was going to happen.  Now we have a dilemma – do the iui and pray I don’t have any cysts when it comes back negative so I can start the ivf cycle immediately so I don’t lose out on the opportunity or convert from an iui to an ivf TODAY!  

Now every month before my iui I get The Spiel “You have so many follicles, you have a high risk of multiples, high number multiples can be dangerous to the mother and the children”…blah blah blah”  — well that was what they used to tell me.. by this time in the process they’d just say.. “you know the drill” and “if it was anyone but you we’d flip you to ivf or cancel the cycle because you have too many follicles but since it is you…”  Gee thanks.. since I have such a long history of abso-freaking-lutely nothing you can allow me to have 10-14 follicles and still be pretty sure I will not be able to get more than one fertilize .. how reassuring.    

There are two wrenches to throw into the mix here.  The first being that my husband is not 100% sure about doing ivf to begin with.  He thinks if we just keep at this with iuis it will work – it did once right?-even if it wasn’t for long.  So try to get him to part with several thousand dollars (even with the grant that is our cost share amount) and moving on to this much more invasive procedure was scary to me and scarier to him.  He is not the kind of guy who likes to feel pushed into a situation.  He likes to think he makes big boy decisions all by himself.  Sorry – that was excessively sarcastic but that IS how it feels sometimes- here we are talking about a procedure that is no different for him and waay different for me and I am having to convince him why we should do it.  Craig is pretty “frugal” in a lot of things and at this point even spending $4,000 was a lot for him to swallow.  The idea of having to do donor eggs or adoption is still completely beyond him – he can’t imagine having to pay so much money for something that should be so simple.  So I have to find a way to convince him to be 100% on board because I can’t and won’t do this without him firmly behind me.  The heated discussion having to take that much out of our savings account which I am crazy about NOT taking money out of…. and he still had a delusion then of being able to conceive naturally if we just gave it more time or just had more sex.  Yeah-ok- 4 plus years of trying with nary a single positive and we just need to give it more time.  Whatever.  

The other wrench is me.  I will admit- I was terrified to do my first ivf.  I wasn’t scared of the gruesome way they take the eggs, or being put under or anything.  I was so scared they would tell me I had bad eggs.  That my chances of having my own baby were over and that was that.  Poof – all those hopes and dreams up in smoke.  Now we knew my husband’s sperm was fine- it had been tested and we got to see exactly what it was up to every month for almost a year and a half of iuis by then – but the only way to really know about my eggs is to take them out.. and why take them out just to test- you might as well do ivf- right?  So doing the ivf was going to fill in another piece of the puzzle and possible crush my hopes of ever having my own child.  No pressure. (The puzzle piece thing by the way is what finally convinced Craig to go ahead with it- he could rationalize it as an important diagnostic tool).  I just thought I’d have more time to wrap my brain around the whole idea.  I mean, this could actually be the end of the line for me even imagine getting pregnant and having a child without having to rely on someone else.    

So after MUCH discussion and agonizing we decide to go ahead and convert to an ivf cycle.    

Let the fun begin.

Musings on medications

I have waited another cycle for the cyst to disappear and am ready to get back on the horse – or am I?  I think I am ready – I mean cycling is what I do – so far I am still sticking with iuis but I do it every month.  But this month is different.  Last time I was pregnant.  It took so long to get there to have lasted for such a short while.  But “a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do”.


So I go in for baseline with an exaggerated happy demeanor – if you feel it you will be it right?  I go to the car and call my husband like I always do and immediately burst into tears.  But I take a deep breath and tell him we begin stims that night.  The first night of meds after a m/c is oddly the hardest for me.  It is the finality of the loss – I know this is silly because generally the m/c was “declared” several weeks prior.

  I suppose it is like getting back on the horse after you have been thrown.  The first time is very hard emotionally but you put the fall out of your mind and concentrate on this ride quickly.  

Well, we cycle with the injectables for several more months waiting for lightening to strike again.  When nothing happens after a few months we really start tweaking my protocol.  When I first began injectables I was not on too many medications.  Now I am on Lupron, Follistim, Menopur, Ovidrel, PIO, glucophage and crinone.  This is in conjunction with the prenatals, extra folic acid and baby aspirin.  I no longer eat dinner- I just fill up on meds.

  So I generally try not to think about what is actually IN the meds I am on.  Where do they come from? I don’t want to know but somehow I found out what Menopur is made of.  If you take it and don’t want to know stop reading now.  It is basically powdered urine.  Menopur used to be made from the urine of menopausal nuns.  Seriously!  Apparently someone, and I don’t know who wanted to check this out, realized that women in menopause have leutinizing hormone in their urine.  In my simplified terms, leutinizing hormone is the hormone that matures the egg so that it is ready for my husband’s crackhead sperm.  Just like in every relationship – one party has to be the mature one. =)  

I think the follistim has bovine serum or something horrible in it – I had to stop reading the pamphlet or I knew I’d never be able to shoot myself up again!


And let’s not even talk about crinone – come on.. are there not enough things shoved up there while stimming? I always have to do two a day which involves setting the alarm extra early and  “inserting the medication” before I even get out of bed in the morning. What a great way to start the day.  Blech.  The discharge is awful…and of course I HAVE to look- it is during the 2WW and I am obsessed with every tiny (or not so tiny) discharge, every cramp and every twinge.


PIO.. have you done THAT?  Holy crap.  The needles alone are frightening.  The first few months we did the PIO I was advised by other to ice my butt so I don’t feel the needle – um ..note to self….don’t listen to anything those people ever say again.  Injecting oil into a cold muscle is so painful.  Then even if you massage the area you get painful lumps of oil in your butt.  I swear they were so big you could see them through my pants when I walked around!!!!  And the lumps generally stayed around for a couple of weeks after my BFNs.  A wonderful reminder.


**Assvice**literally – from a lot of trial and error here is what I found to be the best and least painful way to do PIO shots other than giving them to someone else completely.  I warm the area with a heating pad for 10-15 minutes, while warming my “hip” get the syringe ready and then I put the syringe in my bra for the remaining 10 minutes or so.  This sounds crazy but it warms the oil so that it is thinner and will dissipate more easily- i.e. No lumps.  I also use the heat after for another 10 minutes or so and then make sure I get up and walk around for at least ½ hour.  Try it – it works like wonders for me!

  Now after all of these shots and other uncomfortable tasks, imagine the guilt trip I will hopefully someday be able to give my child that just to have he/she I had to mix bovine serum and powdered urine and inject it into myself, a 1 ½ inch needle of oil in the butt and even I can’t imagine discussing with my child crinone and its effects.  Man- that kid will take out the trash every night just so I don’t ever say those words again!!!  

I wanted to clarify that I am sort of trying to catch you up on my journey so far.  The miscarriage I spoke of in my previous post was August of 2006 (you will hear about the others later).  Once you are “caught up” I hope to kind of go back and discuss some of the moments that stand out in my mind, spilled sperm, bad porn at the doctor’s office, waking up from my first ivf was pretty funny (to me anyway).  I hope all of you will follow along with my journey and share yours too.  I love reading your comments.

  Talk to you soon. 

This entry was posted on February 6, 2008. 5 Comments