2 (entries) Become 1

Somehow, I had fully prepared myself to be getting an IUI this month.  It wasn’t easy.  I cried a lot, and probably yelled too much.  I don’t do well with these things.  I told Cody I was scared and that moving on to an IUI made it that much more real.  It made it that much more clear that we were not going to be able to conceive without a team of people literally in on the action.

Still… we talked and talked and talked some more.  I pulled my head out of my ass and gave myself a reality check.  We do need the help.

CD3 came and I waltzed into the office.  Cody and I agreed on some questions to ask the doctor and that we’d do whatever he suggests.  While I think I know everything there is to this rollercoaster ride named “Fertility Freakout”, the doctor is the one who actually knows all the science and statistics.

In walks Dr. R and he says “Oh, the file is getting thicker”.  I replied with “Yeah, soon you’re not going to be able to staple it”.  We all chuckled and then he hit me with a curve ball:  Let’s go one more round with the Femara and timed intercourse.

Really?  Just when I tell myself that IUI is better.  Just when I get excited that we’d be one procedure closer to getting pregnant.  Femara and timed intercourse.  Lovely.

It feels a little bit like insanity.  I mean, there’s only a 7% chance that this could work.  And I feel like doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is almost pointless.  But we agreed on listening to the doctors orders.

I feel like I’m unintentionally sabotaging the treatment plan.  I brought the Femara home and forgot to take my last pill on time (I was eight hours late).  Then, I was supposed to go in today (CD10) and have a check up.  And I skipped it.  Cause I didn’t want to get up at 4:50AM and drive and hour and a half both ways fully knowing I would be going there just to check the progress on the size of my follicle(s)…. not to get instructions of when to smush my husband.  It feels pointless and frustrating.  So I just didn’t go and plan to go back on CD12 when there will actually be sizable follicles and the possibility of ovulation. 

I am giving myself a headache.

Anyway, that’s the boring update.  Either way, this is the last round of this protocol.  I’m either going to be pregnant or moving on to an IUI in the month of September!

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There is one other topic I’d like to discuss in this entry.  3 entries in one day is too much – but I do think that this deserves it’s own title.  I might move it later, but for now, I’m going to put it here.

I read a lot of blogs regarding infertility.  It makes me crazy and keeps me sane all at the same time.  I feel bad because in the past, when one of my bloggers became pregnant, I would stop following the blog completely.  Asshole move, I know.  I just couldn’t read about all of the happy-happy joy-joy when I was struggling still. 

I don’t do that anymore.

I’ve read from a couple of you that things have ended and you’re no longer pursuing treatments – willingly or otherwise.  It was then that I realized that as much as it pained me to read that people were successful in getting pregnant, it broke my heart to hear that some of you would never get pregnant. 

I hate saying this cause it doesn’t help but:  I’m sorry.

I’ve also read of more than a couple of you getting pregnant and now miscarrying.  This kills a part of my heart as well.

I want you all to know you’ve been an inspiration to me in one way or another.  I understand your struggles and your entires help me way more than I can express.  You’re all warriors.

I am wishing all of the best for each of you.  I think about you guys and am always hoping you’re in a good place in life.

Thank you!

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beanie

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A Case of Mild Dentophobia

2007 – I’m sitting (more like being restrained) in a dentists chair getting a root canal.  Everyone told me that it was going to be fine, not to worry, and that at the end of it all, I’d feel relieved with no more pain.  THEY. WERE. WRONG.  The dentist did the procedure while there was still infection present, which caused recovery to just plain suck.  The back of my tooth cracked as well, and he didn’t fix it.  When I complained and went back to the office, one of the receptionists was rude to me and didn’t take my pain seriously.  I should have been brought back in right away as an emergency… she made me wait a week.  I was so upset about it that I didn’t go back to the dentist for almost 3 years.

2010 – I see another dentist.  He’s ok, but I moved in with Cody, a few cities over, so I drop the dentist like a hot potato. 

2011 – I go to Cody’s dentist. Cody had been seeing the same dentist since he was a kid and seemed happy.  I sit in the chair and what do you know???  Terrible hygienist who puts me through torture and pain.  I again boycott the dentist for 2 years.

2013 – I cracked my root canal tooth.  It’s nothing big… after all, there is no longer a nerve in there.  But my tongue does not like being scratched.  I go back to Cody’s dentist because, well just because the hygienist was sadistic, the dentist was very nice.  They wanted to do x-rays, but I was in the 2WW, so I told them I might be pregnant and couldn’t.  I then talked directly to the dentist and told him that Cody and I are going through fertility treatments, so I’m not sure when I can do the x-rays.  He is ok with this and says that he’ll put a temporary crown on the tooth and when we’re “x-ray available”, pick up where were left off, in terms of dental work needed.

A few days ago, it was time to have this temp crown put on.  I am sitting there, everything is clenched and I’m waiting for the pain.  It’s inevitable, after all.  The hygienist I have this time is asking me why I’m getting a temporary crown and not the permanent.  She then starts asking me why I’m not have any other work done and why we don’t have x-rays.  I proceed to tell her that I’m trying to get pregnant and the dentist suggested that we don’t do anything else until I’ve given birth.  She doesn’t get it… but she pretends.  Genius Georgina then leaves for 10 minutes and comes back.  She tells me that she clarified with the doctor that we’re going to do a temporary crown for now and that we won’t be doing x-rays until fertility treatments are complete.  Ummm… yes.  How is that different from what I already told you?  Then she says this:

“When will you be finished fertility treatments?”

I stared are her and after a second shrugged my shoulders.  Your guess is as good as mine, honey.  That’s the thing with fertility treatments:  you just never know.  Anything.

 

beanie

A.D.I.D.A.B.

If you don’t know the song “A.D.I.D.A.S.” by Korn – well, it’s stands for “All Day I Dream About Sex”.  I changed the “S” to a “B” for “Baby”.

I may need a better post title.

Anyway, I just caught a reflection of my hair in my laptop screen.  It’s not pretty.  I have natually curly hair, it’s very fine, and I haven’t showered yet or attempted to tame these lovely locks.  So it’s not pretty… and borders on scary.  In fact, on my wedding day I got up and walked over to my friend’s room to start getting ready and when he opened the door he said “What is THAT?” while pointing to my hair.  And suggested that I tip the stylist.  A lot.

Cody has curly hair and it’s thick and coarse.  I have curly hair and it’s fine and… ugh.  Our baby’s hair is going to be wiiiiiiild.

I fear for my future baby’s hair.  If I have a boy (please please please please please), no biggie – keep it short and we’re fine.  If we have a girl, we have a bigger problem.  You can’t just keep it short.  I mean, you can, but my parents did that to me and I hated them for it.    

I can’t wait.

And names.  Oh, we are always talking about names.  We recently decided on 2 girl names and 2 boy names.  I’m entirely convinced they’ll change when I actually get pregnant.

Oh, and the baby’s room.  We recently bought and moved into a 3 bedroom house.  There’s our room (I can’t get enough of it, by the way), a guest room, and what’s being used as my “office”/craft room.  Let me tell you, the “Cra-ffice” was such a pain in the ass to set up.  And this is also the room I’ve decided will be the nursery.  Crib against that wall, this design on the walls.

Seriously.  All Day I Dream About Babies.

 

beanie

The Reason Behind The Blog Name

There’s not much going on in the world of Beanie & Cody Trying To Make a Baby.  I did my Femara course: 2 tabs, 2 tabs, 1 tab.  I then got shot up with some Ovidrel to force ovulation.  I was told to have sex a few days in a row.  And now I’m on the progesterone (my least favorite part).  And we wait.  I’m once again in the 2WW.

For the 7th time.

Well, 7th time since seeing an RE and getting intervention for our issues.

Anyway, it kinda feels the same.  I’m hopeful.  Cody’s hopeful.  I’m trying not to drink anything caffeinated…. but kinda failing.  I have cut back though.  And the way I see it, plenty of people get pregnant ingesting, inhaling, and injecting worse, so the small amount of caffeine I’m drinking while trying to wean off shouldn’t cause another BFN.

I try so hard not to do any “symptom watching/spotting/hallucinating”. But I don’t know how you can’t. I mean, it’s kind of automatic, right? Well if you care – there’s not a whole lot happening to my uterus as far as I can tell. Had some cramps so I had a meltdown and told Cody I was sure this means I’m not pregnant again. Other than some cramps, I guess my lower back is a little sore, I’m insanely tired and can’t seem to sleep enough (which always happens with the Progesterone), and my boobs are so sore. They usually get sore but this is much worse. Take the bra off – wanna cry. Roll over in my sleep – wake up and wanna cry. I just hate this. In the Pink Pad app, when you have a symptom you want to record you have 3 levels to attach to that symptom: Mild, Moderate, or Intense. I told Cody last night that we’d have to find a stronger word for how painful this is.

Phew. That’s a lot about boobs. Sorry.

I do have a bit of a funny story for ya though.  Funny-awkward.  One day last week I went to the clinic and after my ultrasound I was told I had a 1.6 follicle and that my egg could be released on Sunday, so to giver a go in the sack on that day.  When I went back to the clinic on Monday, I was told the follicle was still there.  They then gave me my Ovidrel and told me to jump my husband that night and the next and to come back on Wednesday.  Normally, we’d be told to go at it the night after the injection and one night later.  When I saw the doctor on Wednesday, I asked him why the sex-protocol had changed and he said:

“Dr. C told you to have sex 3 days in a row.  Most people can’t have sex 3 days in a row.” (Assuming this is why we hadn’t been instructed to do so in the past…..?)

Good for us?  Gold star?

I then got a lesson on how Ovidrel worked… I guess that was helpful. I still don’t know why the instructions were different. Anyway, I’m thinking of starting a new line of posts that will be titled something like “Awkward Quotes From My RE”. Because yes, that story isn’t even the most awkward one.

So that’s all she wrote. I do apologize for the randomness and how everything is all over the place with this post. This is why the blog is named “Baby Brain…Sans Baby”.

With a smile,

beanie

Stop – Drop – And Stop Being Such an Ass

As you all know – or will when I’m finished this sentence – I work from home.  It sucks.  The pay is crap.  I’m really just waiting to find an outside job in my new city.  Er… town.  There’s a multitude of reasons why I chose to work from home.  There’s even more as to why I no longer want to work from home.  One being that I’m becoming a hermit.  Another is that my skin is getting even more pale…. and I didn’t think that was possible.

Ok.  So my job from home.  It’s a “call center” job.  Since I’m at home, there are no supervisors to talk to, so the wonderful minds that make up the virtual call center world decided that to rectify this issue, they’d create a chat room for all of us home agents.  If we ever have questions, we type them in the room and get a response from a supervisor.  We also get to socialize with each other in the chat room while we work, so it’s beneficial that way too I guess.

There really is a point to all of this rambling.

Today, one of my fellow shut-ins agents typed in chat:

“brb – I’m feeling really nachious” (supposed to read “nauseous”)

After some enquiring minds chatted with her, she revealed that she’s pregnant.  I was a little put back.  I didn’t expect to see that scroll by on chat.  But I continued taking calls.  Being the self-hating woman that I apparently am, I couldn’t resist going back to chat and reading the further exchanges taking place.  This woman starting talking about how she didn’t even plan for this to happen.  She has been crying so much because she doesn’t know what to do and she just didn’t plan for any of this.  She is pukey and tired all of the time.  She took 5 tests all they were all positive.  And oh yeah – she didn’t plan for this to happen (seriously, this went by at least 3 times in the chat before I opted to close the application and deal with no supervisor help.)

I resisted the urge to tell her to fuck off.  I couldn’t stand reading her repeatedly saying how this is such a shock and so unexpected.

I hate how infertility screws with my emotions.  I don’t know this woman and whether she is pregnant or not should mean nothing to me.  And still, I sat there wanting to cry because she just so clearly had no idea of how lucky she really is… or how completely “unlucky” I am.

The other thing that infertility has done to me is cause me to notice anything pregnancy-related anywhere. Seriously, when I watch TV at night with my husband, something concerning pregnancy comes along at some point. I was watching Intervention alone this afternoon (note to self and anyone reading this: do not watch Intervention when you’re taking a ridiculous amount of hormones. The show is sad enough already – fertility treatments do not help). Wouldn’t you know it – the sister of the Intervention-ee (???) was pregnant. With her second unplanned child. Honestly, it’s getting to be like a joke. I look at the TV or Cody and say “Seriously?? Is something screwing with me?”. It’s ridiculous.

Anyway, I just wanted to get that out. I know most fertility blogs are about one rant or another. This is no exception. I just wish people were not so self absorbed so that they could really, truly see how lucky they are to be given such a gift.

beanie