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Archive for the ‘IVF#2 (Take 3)’ Category

Official

Not that I needed the final word, but the beta’s back and I’m definitely not pregnant. George, Jr. is not to be. I take solace in the fact that I don’t have to put my tail between my legs and thank Dr. Hate.

So I can stop the estrace and the PIO. Wait, I already stopped both, because, really? What’s the point?

Follow up and re-group with SuperDoc on July 6th to plan out IVF#3. We’d touch base sooner than that, but he’s halfway across the globe right now. How dare he?

And that, my friends, is the end of IVF#2 (Take 3). I suspect I won’t have much else to say here for a while. I’m not in a very good place right now and I’m not really sure I have anything left to say.

I’ll let you know what SuperDoc says in July.

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No more PIA or PIO

I talked with my nurse today. I’m going in tomorrow for my beta despite being sick. My doctor this morning said if the plague I have is the flu, I should be better by tomorrow, and if it’s not, it’s probably bacterial, and I’m now on antibiotics just in case, so I should be okay to breathe my germs on them by tomorrow.

That being said, my nurse gave me her blessing not to take my PIO tonight since my HPT is still snowy white. I told her she needn’t worry about how to make that uncomfortable phone call tomorrow with the negative beta and she said, “Oh thank heavens!” Apparently those phone calls aren’t easy to make, and occasionally get pretty dicey. She hopes to give me a pleasantly surprising phone call tomorrow, but meanwhile she said it was okay to skip the PIO tonight. Whahoo!

Meanwhile, there’s nothing much interesting going on here in perky-land.

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A Definition

I love my husband. And you know why? Because if you look in the dictionary under sweet, optimistic, or (most importantly) naive, you’ll find a picture of him. Allow me to illustrate with a conversation from yesterday:

Him: Did you take your morning estrace?
Me: Yeah, but really? What’s the point?
Him: I’m still hoping George will surprise you.
Me: Honey, George isn’t going to surprise me. Today’s 15 days post retrieval. Even the stupid internet cheap POS pregnancy tests would have shown something if I was pregnant today.
Him: Okay.
Me: You really think there’s going to be a surprise.
Him: I’m hoping George will surprise you.

It’s cute, no? So for his sake, I will continue to take the little blue pills and the damn PIO, despite my blubbering in a doctor’s office yesterday (see Chez Perky for that one), because, after all, I’d hate for him to say “I told you so” on something that critical, right? (but I still haven’t made an appointment to go in for my beta…)

(for the record? No surprises this morning, other than I still feel like crap. And not in a pregnant kind of way – in a “oh my god where are my lungs and all my energy?” kind of way)

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ick

Still sick. Still not pregnant (so Barren? You can stop holding out that tiny bit of hope, okay?).

I have yet to schedule my beta, which is supposed to be Friday. I wonder if they’ll notice if I don’t show up for it? I’m guessing they would notice. Back in 2006 when I was away on vacation (the only real vacation I’ve ever taken in my entire life) on a beta day (and had told them I wouldn’t be there on beta day), they freaked out when I didn’t show up for my beta. But then, having not been on PIO, I’d had solid proof that that IUI (#2) had failed miserably.

So … not showing up for my beta is probably not an option right?

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I Am Sick

I am sick.

And I am also not pregnant. I did cave and POAS. Today is 9dp5dt. Otherwise known as 14 days post retrieval. Though I suppose some of you will argue that it’s too early to tell, a lot of clinics do their betas at 14 dp retrieval. The fact that my clinic waits 18 days doesn’t change the fact that today is probably accurate.

I will dutifully keep taking my PIO until Friday, because I’m a “good” patient (though not good enough to follow my doctor’s directions not to POAS), but then I’ll just be waiting out the 2 weeks until I can see SuperDoc for a follow up consult to decide the following:

  1. WTF???
  2. What next?
  3. Is there anything I should change about my protocol?
  4. Is there any reason I should not start a cycle in August (the alternative is to wait until November, which is not my preference).
  5. What are we going to do to avoid another Dr. Hate situation in the future?
  6. No, seriously, WTF???

I can’t say I’m surprised, or shocked.

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Because it’s fun for me, every time my husband is trying to annoy me (even jokingly), I say, “No! You can’t do that! I’m gestating!” And I melodramatically throw myself down on the couch, clutching my abdomen protectively, to ensure the safety of our precious morula.

All joking aside, this exchange belies my true feelings about this cycle. Usually, I’m skeptical that a cycle could have worked, but there’s always a piece of me that can’t resist interpreting every twinge, every smptom, every sign. Usually, even though I won’t say it out loud, there’s a piece of me that is shocked when I inevitably cave, pee on a stick, and see a sea of white where there *should* be a second line. Even in my sixth IUI, when no one, not even my doctor, thought it was going anywhere – the cycle that was doomed to fail (but resulted in an HOM pregnancy instead) – even then, I thought there was a chance, even though I wouldn’t admit it out loud.

But this time I simply cannot wrap my brain around the possibility that this cycle has any possibility of ending well. I don’t have even the smallest bit of hope. SuperDoc is heading out of the country for 2 1/2 weeks, and he’s leaving before my beta happens. I’m devastated by this, which is ridiculous, but there you go. I never claimed to be rational, and I’m sure the copious amounts of estrogen and PIO aren’t helping matters. Anyway, I’ve made an appointment for a follow up consult with SuperDoc for the first week of July – right after SuperDoc gets back. I figure that way we can talk about where to go from here, because clearly something’s gotta give.

Sigh.

I hope I eat my words, but I just… I’m not counting on it. I’m really not asking for platititudes. I can’t handle them, really. they won’t make me feel better. All I need now is to just … get from point A to point B.

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