Meeting The New OBGYN

I had my first appointment with my *potential* new OBGYN just before Christmas. I didn’t get a referral and I didn’t do a ton of research–I saw this doc’s bio and picture and my gut said he was “the one”. And I decided to trust my gut and wait 3 months for his first available new patient appointment.

As I drove to the office, I actually had to “tap” (EFT tapping) in the car, because I was already nervous and the Christmas traffic was *insane*.

Feeling discombobulated and overwhelmed, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to articulate myself. How do I tell him the saga of “my life as a case study”, but without burying the lead (that I want to prepare to TTC)? Where do I begin? Will there be enough time at the appointment to get it all out? What am I forgetting? What if he HATES me because I’m such a neurotic pain in the ass?!! What if he just doesn’t get it, and I have to do this all over again with someone else??

I felt like I was on my way to some sort of high-stakes blind date… like… I felt like a contestant on “The Bachelor”… that sums it up.

Speaking of which, I felt really self conscious about my appearance–my hair (sort of styled), my outfit (leggings, t-shirt, oversized sweater and beat-up slip on tennis shoes), and of course–my *va-jay-jay*… I wished I had gotten waxed, but I made my best (still half assed) attempt to look presentable. I worried about my chipped and grown-out pedicure, but not enough to actually take the polish off and do my nails *or* find a pair of clean and matching socks in my mountain of unfolded laundry. I didn’t wear make-up to conceal my rosacea and by the time I got to the office my face was beet red. Yeah… all I can say is at least I didn’t smell bad.

I checked in and it didn’t take long–I brought a copy of ALL my medications and supplements (freaking 2 pages) so that was a time-saver. Side note: working in medical offices I noticed old peoples’ caretakers would always come prepared with a list of medications–I am a bit sour that I have to do this at the ripe old age of 37.

My appointment was for 2:50pm and I was required to be there 30 minutes early. Since the check-in didn’t take long, I had to wait awhile to be seen. I tried to stay calm but I could not shake my feelings of fear and anxiety. I was finally called back around 3pm.

The MA looked at my paperwork and then began asking me a ton of questions. I explained my autoimmune diseases to her as well as my medication list, and was satisfied that she knew what she was doing as she nodded her head and kept typing without pause (most MA’s would stop and look confused and need me to spell things for them). This MA seemed unphased–that boosted my confidence.

The main points I discussed with the MA were:

1. I have Ulcerative Colitis, Hypothyroidism, Rosacea, Lichen Sclerosus, and Depression

2. I have hormonal imbalances (too much testosterone, not enough progesterone)

3. I had 2 miscarriages

4. I used fertility treatments and conceived my living child upon my 6th IUI

5. I had a successful pregnancy and birth

6. During pregnancy I used progesterone supplements and heparin

7. I want to TTC again (so I need prescriptions for progesterone & heparin)

8. My Mother and maternal Grandmother both had breast cancer (my Mother died from it at 59) and I’m 37 so I think I need a mammogram?

9. I’m still breastfeeding

10. I want a bunch of blood tests including but not limited to: TSH, AMH, ANA, ALT/AST, and Prolactin

Since I recently switched insurances when Mr. MLACS switched jobs, I also decided to go ahead and have my annual exam (even though I just had one in May on my previous insurance) just to get that out of the way… but also to test out this OBGYN and see if he was gentle or if he gave me the creeps.

The MA said she was unsure if the doctor would talk to me prior to giving my exam or if he would do the exam first and talk afterwards, so she went to check. I was really hoping the doc would agree to talk to me first because I was in no way prepared to greet him half naked with my legs spread. In fact after the MA left the room I gave it some thought and decided I would insist on meeting the doctor first. But to my relief the MA informed me that the doctor wanted to speak to me prior to the exam. I exhaled. And I waited…and when I couldn’t sit any longer I began to pace the room…and I called Mr. MLACS to make sure he was going to be home on-time to relieve the babysitter since this was taking for-ev-er…and I looked out the 4th story window and watched people crossing the parking lot–many heavily pregnant women, women lugging baby carriers, women lugging baby carriers AND toddlers, and some much older women who were beyond childbearing age… and I let my mind wander, wondering what their stories were… until I heard a knock at the door and quickly turned around to see…

Him. The man I had been waiting (and waiting, and waiting) for.

He greeted me warmly and thanked me for waiting (as though I had a choice) and sat down. I didn’t waste any time and just blurted out “Something led me to you–I just moved here and I didn’t have a referral, I just knew you were it.” And that sounded odd, so I followed it up with “I was very close to my previous OBGYN that delivered my baby–he supported me through some hard times”. Which still sounded odd, so I said “Where are you from?” and he is basically a local. And I asked him “So what made you want to be an OBGYN?” And he replied that he prefers treating healthy people and prefers women over men, because men are difficult patients (he was being funny, I laughed) but I pointed out “But *I* am a sick person” and he said well ok sure, but I’m not dying nor am I infectious. I could see his point, although I think I expected him to say something about loving babies. Come to think of it, although Dr. Angel (my previous beloved OBGYN) does love babies, I think I remember him saying he chose to be an OBGYN because it’s so diverse–he gets to treat patients and perform surgeries, etc.

I digress…

So far I had observed that new doc had a warm smile, a cajun-southern accent, and a sense of humor. All good things in my book.

I don’t remember exactly how the conversation went, but points I discussed with him were basically reiterating what I told the MA. And I asked him some questions:

  1. My previous OBGYN managed my hypothyroid and depression (tested my TSH and gave me refills), would new doc do this? Or could he refer me to a PCP and/or an Endocrinologist?
  2. I definitely need progesterone (told him my numbers–which I have memorized). My insurance covers PIO or oral progesterone. I’ve used Endometrin and Crinone. What does he suggest I do? Will he give me a script today?
  3. Although I don’t have any known clotting disorders and only one red flag (elevated ANA’s) and 2 miscarriages, Dr. Angel had me do Heparin injections and I’d like to do them in any subsequent pregnancy. Ok?
  4. What if I need to see a fertility specialist? Which RE does he recommend?
  5. Since I’m over 35 and officially “AMA”, will he have me see the MFM?
  6. Do I need a mammogram?
  7. Who attends his patients’ labor and deliveries (if not him)?

His answers were:

  1. He’ll manage my hypothyroid/depression for now but he referred me to a PCP clinic closer to where I live and enthusiastically recommended a couple of docs.
  2. He suggested Crinone and said he’d send in a “test” prescription and if it was too costly he could make an appeal to my insurance.
  3. He said he definitely agrees I should use Heparin again–in fact one of his MFM’s uses it on anyone who has had more than one miscarriage because we can only test for *known* clotting disorders, and there are many other factors that can’t be tested. Basically he holds my mantra “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” I was SO thrilled to hear this, as I was afraid he would say no.
  4. He said if I need an RE then he has a referral, no problem.
  5. Yes I will see the MFM
  6. They don’t do mammograms while a woman is breastfeeding unless they have a reason (like if I found a lump).
  7. His office is near the hospital and he tries like hell to attend his own patients–hence why I had to wait awhile, because he was delivering a baby. I told him since that is the case, I don’t mind waiting.

I also asked him a sensitive question… what are his thoughts on medical abortion? I am older and I have a higher risk of birth defects. New doc said that if it’s not compatible with life or would cause a very poor quality of life, then je will perform a medical abortion. But if it were something such as Down Syndrome, then he would feel the need to refer me to someone else–no judgement but that’s where his conscience draws the line. And he said it really pisses him off when women use abortion as a form of birth control and have several or more. I was completely satisfied, and even moved, by his genuine answers.

He then proceeded to *ask me* which blood tests I like to have ordered. I really appreciated that. And then he asked me if I had any more questions and waited patiently while I fumbled with my phone to make sure I had checked everything off my list.

And the physical exam was probably the easiest and most painless exam I’ve ever had.

He is THE one.

God and my guardian angels never steer me wrong.

New doc will henceforth be known as “Dr. Soul”. He is the soul of the South. And he is a kindred spirit to me.

No one can replace Dr. Angel, but Dr. Soul is going to take good care of me. I believe.

XOXO,

MLACS

STOP The Insanity!

Anyone remember Susan Powter? The original “biggest loser” (the show was probably conceived based on her “flab to fab” success story that parlayed into an avalanche of endorsements).

The b*tch is crazy, right? Whatever happened to her anyways? I need to google…

But this post isn’t even about her, I’m just ripping off her slogan “Stop the insanity!”

I feel like crap. I was doing so well, going to hot barre or spinning a couple times a week, walking, not eating much sugar, portion sizes, weighing myself regularly…

But since the house fire I have been “eating my feelings”, skipping the gym (in my defense BG was sick and teething a couple weeks ago so I didn’t want to take her to gym daycare), and struggling to care about my appearance (always wearing a ball cap and sunglasses). My scale either broke or ran out of batteries, and I just wasn’t compelled to deal with it so I haven’t been accountable for my weight gain.

How do I know I gained weight? Back fat. I mean I can tell other places too but the other day I twisted around and felt my back fat pleating like an accordian and it felt foreign and gross.

My bubble of denial has burst.

I feel like crap. I know all the sugar I’ve been eating is bad. Been hitting up Starbucks and getting soy milk instead of coconut milk because it tastes better (soy is SO bad for hypothyroid people and it inflames my immune system). I drink too much caffeine and not enough water. I eat too much processed food and not enough fruits and vegetables. I mean, I probably haven’t eaten a salad in a month.

I’m a mess.

My intestines were so backed up I could hardly stand it and I was too lazy (or apathetic?) to even go grab some milk of magnesia until I was beyond miserable.

But I “cleaned out” my GI tract and I feel much clearer and am motivated to get my health on track.

Because I need to, but also because BG is almost 18 months old and I am almost 37 and since time is not on my side, I plan to TTC for a sibling for her in the near-ish future. Which, we all know does not guarantee a pregnancy or a baby. And I’d be happy if BG was my only child–she’s more than enough. But I always said I wanted 2 kids, and moreover, I think it would be good for BG to have a sibling. So there you have it. I’ll do my best.

And by doing my best, I mean I’ll take all the supplements I took before I conceived BG (listed HERE). I just ordered 2 months worth for about $130 off amazon. And then I’ll eat healthy and exercise vigorously.

I’m thinking about doing a juice cleanse or the master cleanse to get started once we move. My friend and blogger extraordinaire  Steph Mignon suggested Whole30, which sounds like a good idea to start after a cleanse. Any other suggestions for gentle cleanses? My colon can’t handle a crazy detox.

XOXO,

MLACS

 

 

Commence TWW

Hey guys, I updated my IUI #3 on my menu, with all the details and drama of the last 2 weeks (with updated drama and stats from insemination day). I have to go back and edit to include all the drugs and supps I’m taking–including the prednisone–aka prednisolone if you wanna act British (or if you are actually British). Yes, Dr. Angel kindly obliged my request for more drugs. He really melted my heart when he suggested to begin Heparin after a positive pregnancy test–love this guy–now that’s one less thing I need to badger him about (I hate badgering people). I believe (I choose to believe) that I ovulated within a few hours of my IUI yesterday, and it was confirmed (via dildocam) that I did ovulate within the 24 hours post-insemination. And today I will begin progesterone suppositories. And now I wait.

I’m a “pro” at taking corticosteroids. I’ll take a moment to explain how they work in case any of you were wondering. First off, people confuse corticosteroids with anabolic steroids–they are TOTALLY different. Corticosteroids (most commonly prednisone) stimulate your adrenal glands to secrete cortisol and adrenaline. This, in turn, suppresses your immune system. Cortisol is known as the “stress hormone”–it is secreted when you are stressed–which explains why you are more likely to become sick (like, with a cold) during times when you’ve been under a lot of stress for an extended period of time. Unfortunately, while cortisol is prodigious at quieting your immune system (and suppressing inflammation) it has a host of sh*tty side effects that you’ll notice if you take it over a period of time. One is that you feel *stressed* (cortisol) and another is that you feel *anxious* (adrenaline–your ‘fight or flight’ response hormone). Also, you probably know (from Dr. Oz or from some commercial) that cortisol causes you to retain fat in your midsection–this is a fact. Corticosteroids actually do the EXACT OPPOSITE of what anabolic steroids do–corticosteroids screw you over ROYALLY because they preferentially break down your muscle and use it as energy, rather than using your fat. And if that wasn’t bad enough, corticosteroids encourage your body to store any carbs or fat that you eat as bodyfat (especially on your stomach), rather than using them for energy. You all know that eating protein builds muscle, right? And we’ve established that corticosteroids ‘eat’ your muscle and store any carbs and fat you eat (conveniently) in your midsection, right? So then, it’s imperative that you eat A LOT of protein and as little carbs and fat as possible when you are on corticosteroids long-term. Currently I’m only taking 10mg, which is not much, but when I’ve had to take 40mg a day for extended periods (months), I couldn’t afford to eat poorly because of the consequences.

Anabolic steroids are the kind that bodybuilders use to add muscle and cut fat. Your doctor will never prescribe you anabolic steroids (well, incredibly rarely). So, if any of you have a reason to take corticosteroids, now you’ll understand that they WON’T make you bulky like a bodybuilder, and in fact, they will waste your muscle and add fat to your midsection with a quickness if you don’t eat properly (high protein, low carbs/fats). Corticosteroids also make your face puffy (it’s called ‘moon face’) and I get that even on 10mg. But I don’t care if I have ‘moon face’ in Myrtle’s wedding pictures, if it means I’m pregnant at her wedding. And, I am careful to take my prednisone in the morning, so that I can take advantage of the adrenaline and have a nice burst of energy to start my day and the cortisol doesn’t affect me too much. DO NOT take corticosteroids at night if you can possibly avoid it, because you won’t be able to sleep and may find yourself rocking back-and-forth and crying on the couch all by yourself at 4am (why yes, that has happened to me, MANY times). Don’t know if y’all wanted to know any of this stuff, but I just felt like sharing it. XO

Merry Birthday Jesus!

I know I was all sad and stuff in my last post (like “oh I don’t feel like talking”, blah blah blah)  but I’m feeling more like myself again (for the moment–but this may be transient). I’m nearly ready for Christmas: house decorated (but still need to finish cleaning–I hate cleaning, so I might give myself a B- in cleanliness and organization but whatevs), cookies made (I chocolate-dipped oreos and pretzels and sprinkled different things on them, for example: white chocolate with crushed candy cane bits–making chocolate dipped stuff is a WAY bigger pain-in-the-ass than just baking something, IMHO), presents bought and wrapped (I $pent almost as much on the wrapping as I do on the damn presents), groceries bought for the carefully planned Christmas dinner (which, same as Thanksgiving I’ll be cooking, because of course nobody else is volunteering), and there’s one more thing…

OH! I’m missing an excuse/lie to tell my Mother-In-Law (MIL) to explain WHY I have to leave in the middle of making dinner–because I have to go see Dr. Angel for monitoring and of course the best time for him is between 3-4pm. Hello drama, my old friend, how ya doin’?! I’m a horrible liar. I have no idea what I’m going to tell her. But as you already know, I don’t want to tell her anything because, well, I just don’t want her asking about it and I most definitely do not want her to say anything to my (shady) SIL. Mr. MLACS is totally backing me up about not saying anything, although it will be awkward because at some point during MIL’s visit we are both going to have to “excuse ourselves” to go do IUI #2. We’re kind of just thinking of saying “we’ll be back in a couple hours” and leaving it at that–MIL won’t pry. But yeah, so that’s what’s up….

I had everything planned out for Christmas, but I didn’t plan to succumb to depression and anxiety for a week and fall behind on my preparations, because I didn’t plan for IUI #1 to fail and thus necessitate IUI #2 during Christmas. Yup, infertility is nothing if not inconvenient, right?

I saw some friends this past week and that was a wonderful pick-me-up, plus Mr. MLACS is home now for about a month and we are getting along, plus I’ve had some more acupuncture from Star, plus Dr. Angel is…well, he’s an Angel.

In other news, Doc Angel and I had a pow-wow today after my monitoring session. The day he took my betas (12dpo) my Progesterone was only 2, and we all know that is pitifully low, right? Right. I have 3 months supply of Endometrin (progesterone suppositories) so given that my progesterone was so low, Dr. Angel wants me to begin progesterone the day of IUI #2. I was really surprised my progesterone was low, because my boobs were huge and I was having crazy nightmares (which always happen when I’m pregnant or on progesterone supps). But, I’m oddly relieved because now maybe I can blame low progesterone and not sh*tty egg quality for my failed IUI #1, and there’s the ‘silver lining’.

Also, Doc Angel said my testosterone is totally normal (25) right smack in the middle of ‘normal’ range and my free testosterone was also normal, though I cannot remember the exact number for it. I was surprised, because (if you’ve read my ‘about’) then you know I have a lot of excess coarse androgen-promoted hair growth on face/stomach/thighs, which unfortunately does not go away just because I got my testosterone ‘in check’. I suppose this is what spironolactone is for, because it blocks the androgen receptors in your hair follicles to prevent the hair growth. But I’ll never take that crap.

I also spoke to my Gastroenterologist (GI) doc about postponing my next Remicade infusion for a few weeks in case it may be interfering with implantation. Surprisingly, my GI was totally for it and said he didn’t prefer to use it in pregnancy if I can avoid it, but to monitor my symptoms and let him know if I’m feeling bad. This means I have to diligently use my Rowasa enemas every. single. day. But who knows, maybe I will be able to get off of the Remicade indefinitely, and that…would be priceless.

I’ll talk more about IUI #2 later, but for now I’m gonna play these cards close to the vest. I’m using the same protocol as last time (Femara + Bravelle + Trigger + IUI) except with different dosages/days and adding progesterone supps. I hope you ladies all have a Merry Christmas and cheers to Jesus! XO

 

86% More Hopeful Than Yesterday

Click HERE for the Attain Success Rates webpage….

As I’ve been (obviously from my ‘FML’ posts) fighting anxiety and depression like it’s my job (thanks hormones) and I’m determined to see the mf*ing sunny side of life again, I began searching for statistics. I don’t expect things from God–I pray more for understanding, acceptance, and comfort than I do for outcomes–so when I want to believe that something will go my way I look for a statistic that is in my favor. And as luck would have it (or God, maybe God was throwing me a bone here) I found some very encouraging statistics via Google search! I would like to thank Attain fertility for providing me with HOPE that I may yet find success with IUI’s…because according to Attain there is an “86% chance of pregnancy with multiple IUI’s”. It doesn’t say percentages like 40% pregnancy within 3 IUI’s or 60% pregnancy rate within 6 IUI’s…and I don’t f*ing care if this 86% includes people that have had 100 IUI’s to finally get pregnant. Obviously this statistic does not account for live births, but before I even worry about that I need to believe that these IUI’s and all the mf*ing hormones are going to open the door for me to begin to worry about the RPL factor…This 86% statistic calmed me and helped me to stop hyperventilating about this upcoming 2nd IUI and stressing about the future (IVF, childlessness), and I will be forever grateful to Attain for posting this (possibly fabricated) statistic so it was there for me to reference in my time of need. **And if this is a skewed statistic and your RE tells you it’s BS…PLEASE DON’T TELL ME…I need to believe in this like a little kid needs to believe in Santa Claus…I’m clutching this statistic like a little safety blanket and if you try to rip it away from me I’ll bite you. XO

New Age

According to Wikipedia (yes, I’m quoting wiki, this is not a term paper)

“The New Age movement is a Western spiritual movement that developed in the second half of the 20th century. Its central precepts have been described as “drawing on both Eastern and Western spiritual and metaphysical traditions and infusing them with influences from self-help and motivational psychology, holistic health, parapsychology, consciousness research and quantum physics.”[2] The term New Age refers to the coming astrological Age of Aquarius.[1]

I realized today that I don’t need medicine, I need healing. I need someone to help me break the chains that I’ve been dragging around these past months and revive my body AND spirit. I already had a masseuse that I LOVE who I think of often but haven’t seen since I moved back to my hometown–he’s amazing. First thing I did was call him and I’m going to see him this Friday. But I was talking to my friend ‘X’ the other day and she said “Why don’t you talk to our friend ‘Star’ and see about doing acupuncture with her? She specializes in fertility and the chiropractor she works with is also wonderful!” I had actually told ‘X’ that my current chiropractor (who ‘X’ used to babysit, and she is my age, so that’ll tell you he’s a very young man) has never addressed my UC or my fertility concerns with his treatment–at the initial visit I told him everything and he seemed compassionate, but ever since then I just feel like I’m a punch in his timecard and he could give a sh*t less about why I’m there and if I’m getting what I need out of the treatment. Sure, he asks me how I am and what I’ve been up to, but then when I ask him he always responds by telling me about his pregnant wife (they’re having a BOY!) and even though I was am genuinely happy for him, how stupid is he to keep droning on about how “we never go out but I’m happy to stay home with my pregnant wife” to a woman who has professed herself chronically ill and infertile??Actually, he’s not stupid, just naïve I think. Regardless, I don’t ever want to see him or his pregnant wife (or their eventual baby) ever again. The thought of him nonchalantly asking me what I’ve been up to and chastising me for canceling my last 4 appointments just makes me want to puke. So I’ll be moving on. And it’s fate, I’m sure, because I had a long conversation with Star today and she was amazing–she said ALL the right things…she didn’t make me feel like a bad person for the arsenal of meds I’m on (though she did say she’ll want me to take a particular probiotic and a particular brand of aloe juice). She said my EXACT words, which are “Eastern and Western medicine can and should work synergistically” (FYI the word ‘synergy’ is one of my most favorite words ever). I knew she was the right one for me. I’ve known her since we were little girls although we haven’t been in close touch as adults, and I know her nature–she is gentle and kind. I told her that I feel guilty about all the meds I’m taking but that I’m doing the best I can to try to balance meds with lifestyle (ex: gluten free) and supplementation (ex: fish oil), in hopes of “patching myself together enough so my body can be a good place for a baby to grow”. She is also a doula, so I told her I’ve had to let go of my dreams of an entirely holistic lifestyle and a water home birth–these just aren’t options. I told her I’m not opposed to chucking all my meds and healing my autoimmune issues with lifestyle and supplementation, but that given what I’ve been through it’s impossible to imagine. I told her that I wish to have a baby this year in the hospital where I was born, with her by my side as my doula–this would be my dream come true. I told her that I am having a hard time believing that this can and will happen, after this past year (of chronic illness and miscarriage). She was very comforting without being too “touchy feely” and she asked some good questions too, so I feel she’s caring and also competent. I told her I’m about to do another IUI and that I’d follow whatever plan of treatment she recommends, and she asked me if I could come in on Monday or Tuesday?

And I told her Monday, because Monday is my birthday, and it’s a very good day to start something new. And I’ve been crying on and off all day ever since, just letting it out–it needs to come out. I just realized that I’ve been falling and getting up and dusting myself off all year long…and I’m tired and I need to heal, or I won’t be a good place for a baby to grow.

I’m conflicted about doing this month’s IUI, because it might be good for me to take some time off of the hormones and focus on my health and rebuild my sense of wellbeing. But I don’t want to wait. And moreover, Mr. MLACS’s schedule is changing in January so he’ll be gone when I’m ovulating and I’ll have to use ‘spermcicles’ and that makes me nervous. So I want to move forward this month, but first I want to shake these feelings of grief, humiliation, inadequacy, shame, pessimism…get rid of all these bad feelings and replace them with good ones like hope, confidence, self respect… I’m ready for a ‘New Age’, both literally and figuratively.

I am 100% Sagittarius

I am 100% Sagittarius

CD1

Yep. I got the call from Dr. Angel that my beta was negative and stimultaneously felt the unmistakeable pain of AF making her appearance a day early. It’s actually a blessing in disguise to be moving on from grieving to hoping so seamlessly. Also, that would partially explain why I was so morose yesterday–PMS. But y’all really showed up for me yesterday and I truly felt embraced and comforted by your kindness, warmth, and tenderness–I really felt our kindredness and unity and it gave me strength when I was weak. You are such amazing women and I’m privileged to know you–I don’t need to know your names, addresses, or occupations–I know the best part of you already–your brave hearts. Bless you all. XO

Coping Mechanisms

I tested negative at 12dpo on a FRER.

I called Dr. Angel’s office and he returned my call and sounded truly disappointed and surprised that the IUI didn’t work this time, he just kept saying “everything looked really good”. I tried not to unleash my full crazy on him, but did throw out several conspiracy theories, “maybe my testosterone is high and I need metformin”, “maybe I need to ovulate sooner, since I didn’t ovulate until CD17, perhaps I need to ovulate closer to CD14”, “maybe my eggs are all bad”, “maybe there is something genetically flawed about my eggs or Mr. MLACS’s sperm”, “maybe it’s the Remicade, since it mediates NK cells and implantation requires NK cell activity, maybe my NK cells are overly suppressed and I need to get off the Remicade”, or conversely, “maybe my immune system is still too active and preventing pregnancy”. I told him “I just wish I knew why”, and “maybe I’m one of those people who won’t get pregnant and it’ll take years to figure out what is wrong”. I know my voice didn’t sound panicked but ordinary people who are not losing their minds do not have these sorts of schizo conversations with their OBGYN after one failed IUI. I am truly special. Dr. Angel ordered a blood draw to check testosterone, progesterone, and quantitative HCG–yes, he went ahead and ordered the beta today at 12dpo because he, like me, feels that the FRER’s are pretty damn accurate.

I cried on and off all day. I felt alone (and I was). And I felt broken (I am). I just couldn’t find comfort in anything or anyone. I had an opportunity to go decorate a Christmas tree with my sister and her daycare kids, but I had to say no. Instead I went to Quest to have my blood drawn and argued with the phlebotomist because she said “now this doesn’t say STAT, so it’s not STAT” (very redundantly) to which I replied “well it oughtta say STAT because it’s a beta and I’ve never heard of a beta not being STAT” (sounding indignant) and then I proceeded to call Dr. Angel’s office to push my agenda, but it was a futile attempt because they were out to lunch. The phlebotomist got a little snippy and said “I used to do a lot of these and they were never STAT” to which I replied “well I’m used to working with RE’s, and they want things STAT” (like, lady, there’s one fledgling RE’s office in this damn town so I wouldn’t expect you to know) and she STFU. I looked and noticed that she had 2 viles for the blood and upon confirming that she only needed two I gave her my left arm because it’s slower–I’ve had so much mf*ing blood drawn that I have a system–2 viles or less you get the left arm, 3 or more the right arm, and I prefer IV’s in my hand. I had one of those “is this really my f*ing life? when did this become ‘normal’?” moments as I sat there watching my blood trickle into the viles, completely oblivious of the phlebotomist.

There was a lady who came in to the Quest office after me, a very frail lady with a hunchback and a walker–I opened the door for her and sat back down. She said out loud, “oh I can’t see this sheet to sign it (referring to the sign-in sheet)” so I jumped back up and grabbed a pen, and before I could ask she said her name was Bernadine. I thought, what a pretty antique name…and I loved her accent–she had a southern drawl–and she said “thank you honey”, and my heart felt a little warmer. I just adore sweet little old ladies. As I was leaving the Quest office I noticed a man on a cell phone standing over Ms. Bernadine, and as I’ve worked in several Dr.’s offices I assumed he must be her transportation. I walked outside and saw a van with the name of a retirement home on it, and my heart sank…does this sweet old woman have no one to care for her? Is she all alone in the world? I wanted to run back in the Quest office and scoop her up and take her with me. I was saddened. The point of this story about my brief encounter with Ms. Bernadine is to give you an idea as to my frame of mind…I looked around at gray skies and snow covered straw-like grass…and I got in my car with nowhere to go and no one to see…and the world seemed like a very cold place. I unceremoniously removed the gauze from my arm and stuck it in my console on top of the gauze from last time.

“What am I going to do with myself now?” I thought. First things first, there was a Starbucks right next to the lab and I always reward and self-soothe with Starbucks, so that was a no-brainer. There was a serious line at the drive-through because it was lunch time so I had a few minutes to ponder my next move. I have a list of things to do around our house but maybe I should try to cheer myself up. I find meandering around Barnes and Nobles to be my most favorite form of therapy, and I thought “maybe a book will distract me from obsessively trolling IF/RPL blogs and lamenting my failed IUI”. Mr. MLACS called while I was in line and he encouraged me to go, so I robotically drove myself to the mall.

Of course I cried on the way to the mall.

I walked in to Barnes and Nobles hoping that I didn’t look like I’d been crying, and could hardly manage a whisper to thank the person who opened the door for me. I wanted to be invisible. I took inventory of the place as I walked in, but my coffee was “kicking in” (and my enema and my milk-o-magnesia…constipated much?) and I had to run to the bathroom. It figures that I would be having a bad day and then be forced to take an epic dump in a public restroom. I cried silently on the toilet, but emerged from the stall feeling like a burden had been lifted (literally). The first book I noticed as I walked by the “New Age” section was by the Long Island Medium lady, Theresa Caputo…not sure that was a coincidence because I’m dying to meet her and get a message from my dear departed mother, but I kept walking.

And now it’s time for a confession: I like to read cheesy Christmas paperback books. You know the ones. They have titles like “A Christmas Miracle” or “The Gift of Hope”. My eye was caught by a Debbie Macomber book (that I hadn’t read) called “Angels at the Table”. Will Lucie Farrara and Aren Fairchild reunite after their chance meeting in Times Square last year on New Year’s Eve??? My educated guess is: Yes. But I’m going to read it anyways.

Then I began circling the “Books Worth Reading” display. And they were all worthy books–Pulitzer prize winners and such. But most of them were too ‘heavy’ for me or I just didn’t like the author’s picture on the back of their book…I discriminate based on this, because if the story is about a little girl’s family torn apart during the Holocaust, then I don’t want to see a picture of some yuppy-looking beatnik dude smirking at me on the back cover. It just ruins the credibility of the story for me, and it seems fame-whorish for authors to put their damn pictures on their books. Unless it’s a biography. Nonetheless, I spent at least an hour reading excerpts from books on this display. I finally settled on one called “Gifted Hands”, about a Neurosurgeon named Ben Carson who spent his childhood as a black youth in inner-city Detroit but ascended to become the director of Pediatric Neurosurgery at Johns Hopkins. Now this, I give a sh*t about.

I went to the ‘Clearance’ section and kept picking up books with storylines that the mother is dying of cancer. WTF. I just can’t…I can hardly read books about mothers let alone mothers dying of cancer (as my Mom did) and I’m thinking “I probably need therapy”. And then I thought…”I’ll have to tell my infertile friends that (according to these books) being a mother is now synonymous with dying of cancer so maybe if we remain childless we’ll spare ourselves death by cancer, ha ha ha”. It sounded much funnier at the time. Obviously it’s not funny in print. Sorry.

I gave up and got in line. While in line I had the presence of mind to pick up a gift card for my MIL. I would say that Barnes and Nobles did not disappoint me today–I left feeling atoned.

I cried as I left the mall parking lot.

My brain felt fuzzy as I tried to figure out the next best use of my time…I just kept driving toward my house…and all of a sudden when I was one street away from my house I decided that I MUST go to Walmart to get the sh*t to make all the Christmas goodies that I’ve promised Mr. MLACS and to complete my vision of handing them out in cute little containers to Dr. Angel and other vital people in my life. I made a U turn. I know it’s ‘cheating’ but I parked by the Walmart garden center because it’s SO much easier to check out there as opposed to the regular lines and you don’t have to feel guilty about not donating to the Salvation Army bell ringer (there are none stationed at the garden center doors)–I should not be sharing this information with you because not many people know about this trick, but you’re welcome.

I proceeded to buy $120 worth of various forms of sugar and Christmas wrappings. Very therapeutic. For Christmas this year, e’rybody gets diabetes.

I cried on the way home from Walmart…FML

XOXO

 

 

 

 

10dpo, 11dpiui Update

I don’t have much to report, but I figured I’d update you guys because I get frustrated when others of you go for treatments and then don’t update in the tww. I definitely have symptoms but I’m not going to post about them unless I get a BFP, because haven’t we all done the symptom-spotting posts and then felt stupid afterwards when we got the BFN? I feel like crap at the moment, I’ll say that much, but my UC is ‘flaring’ at the moment so I don’t know how much might be attributed to that. It sucks to feel like you have to have a bowel movement, and then not be able to go, or only be able to go a little and then have a bunch of blood (yes, TMI, sorry). I blame the weather, as it flip-flopped from 70 degrees to 20 degrees in a matter of hours and has stayed very cold the last 3 days. Oh, and maybe my hormones are responsible, because I had an HCG trigger shot last week and it only just left my system yesterday at 9dpo, and each time I had a miscarriage my UC ‘flared’ afterwards so maybe it has something to do with having the HCG trigger shot and then having the HCG leave my system–I have no idea what the connection is but I believe there is one. I only wish I knew exactly what the hell inspires my colon to revolt.*Sigh*

So here’s the rundown so far:

7dpo slight positive on Walmart brand EPT (looks like an evap)

8dpo slight positive on Walmart brand EPT (looks like an evap, same as the day before)

9dpo totally negative on Walmart brand EPT

10dpo (today) negative on a FRER

All of these tests were taken with FMU and I just POAS as opposed to collecting the urine in a cup and dipping the stick.

Oh, and my ex-boyfriend, who is still a friend of mine, texted me tonight that his sister is pregnant again! He told me first before anyone else! Lucky me! No but really I’m pleased for his family to welcome another child and I only wish it was his child because I know how bad my ex wants kids and what a good dad he’ll be. But still. Here I am feeling like crap, and then I get that text. Awesome.

Oh and guess who else is having a baby?! A 20-something year old druggie prostitute, and the “sperm donor” has a girlfriend and couldn’t care less about her! Yes, this is some gossip I got from a friend of mine earlier today. Oh, and the girl already had at least one abortion that we know of. Brilliant!

Ok, I’m done being sarcastic. Really I had a pretty good day–got my Christmas cards in the mail (all 100 of them)–I hand-addressed each one last night. Hung out with some friends, shopped, and watched football. Came home and had (all natural, nitrate free) hot dogs for dinner…I just can’t stay away from the damn hotdogs. WTF. But anyways, I feel very fortunate. XO