burnt toast life

a big ouchie

Up until yesterday, I might have considered myself the queen of injections. I’ve gotten cocky with it…I went from a girl who got queasy even looking at needles and who almost passed out giving blood far more times than I care to mention to someone who is nonchalant about the whole thing. I’ve certainly come a long way in a short time. I still can’t look when they draw my blood, but it doesn’t phase me one bit to roll up my sleeve and offer up a vein. I’m a pro.

But first I should tell this story, because for the first time ever my insurance did come through for me. My friend has a clotting disorder and once had to be on Lovenox. I was chatting with her about my situation and she warned that the first time she went to get the script filled, they wanted to charge her $800. She got her doctor to deem it medically necessary, and that dropped the cost down to $100. Even Dr. L mentioned that it was an “expensive” solution. So I was prepared for a ridiculous price.

I stopped by the pharmacy to pick up my Estrace refill and just for fun, I asked the pharmacist how much it would cost to fill my Lovenox script. I even joked that it would “probably be, like, a billion dollars.” But after she typed in a few things, she looked me right in the eyes and said, “$10.”

$10? TEN DOLLARS? I made her check several times to make sure she didn’t mess up. And lo and behold, it was true! Hooray for this new crappy insurance, for the first time ever the news was good! Plus, the syringes are pre-filled and spring loaded. The pharmacist made them sound like fun! Woo!

But then it wasn’t good. Because the next day, after my nightly PIO shot, Eric said, “Flip over!” and did the Lovenox shot in the belly. Well… HOLY SHIT. I am not an injection queen. I am not an expert shot taker. I am a sniveling, crying little baby. Because that. shit. hurts. It burns! It burns going in and for at least 15 minutes afterwards. It burns, it hurts, it stings, IT SUCKS. The injection site is sore a full 24 hours later. When I was lying in bed later last night, I could almost feel my blood rushing weirdly through my body. (strange side effect, or the power of suggestion? hmmmm…)

And the worst part is, it’s not even guaranteed to help. I did get the results back from the clotting disorder tests, but I don’t know how to read them and my doctor hasn’t had a chance to go over them yet. Even if I don’t have anything that came up abnormal, I’m thinking New Hope wants me to keep doing the shots anyway as a precaution. But honestly…it’s so awful. The thought of doing it for the next 3 months or (God forbid) 9 month is simply horrifying. I would, of course, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to!

Sorry, bitch ‘n’ moan fest over. I truly hope none of you have to take this horrible shot. And for all concerned parties, I went to the chiropractor on Monday and firmly explained my $0 offer. He said he was willing to negotiate, but would not do it for free. So I got one last gratis adjustment and breezed on out of there, promising to come back… eventually. It was fun while it lasted, I guess.

Sorry to dash, but I must go mentally prepare for The Cruelest Injection Ever Invented. This kid better be grateful.

third time’s a charm

The embryo transfer went just as expected yesterday. I basically feel like an old pro at this. Big shock of the day? Only one transferred this time, not two. But more on that later.

I hate to associate this experience with “signs” or jinxes” or anything silly like that, because I’m still more than a little heartbroken over the psychic prediction that was so, so wrong. You can’t count on coincidence or happenstance. But it is… interesting, let’s say, that this our third time. Because of the well-known adage, “third time’s a charm,” and how that relates to us specifically.

You may recall that Eric and I did not get married the first time we got engaged. Nor did we get married the second time we got engaged. I could go on for days with all the reasons, but for the purposes of this post I’ll just say this: people were pretty skeptical when we got engaged for a third time. Hell, I think even we were skeptical. There may have been some sort of betting/pool over whether we’d actually go through with it among family and friends, but that’s never been confirmed.

When he proposed time #3, he had a new ring. I can’t say I was particularly shocked on the night it happened because we had been talking about it, we were on our annual family vacation at the beach (also the site of proposal #2, heh), and he asked me to go on a random night walk on the beach. So getting the ring… not a surprise. But he did get me something sweet that I didn’t expect – a charm with a heart and a little engagement ring that was engraved with “third time’s a charm! love, Eric.” I love that. And when things started going downhill last time, Eric’s mom even said, “Oh, it’s always the third time that works out for the two of you.”

Anyway, back to yesterday. My mom came with me this time. They don’t allow anyone past the waiting room and Eric despises NYC, and probably despises waiting around doing nothing even more than that (severe ADHD). Again, he asked if I needed him to come, and again I said no, I would be fine. It’s not a huge deal. Also, lunch and a little shopping with my mom afterwards sounded highly appealing.

We got to New Hope with plenty of time to spare. They called me back into the procedure area and showed me the printout picture of my embryo – singular. At first my heart sank, assuming one didn’t survive the thaw. But then when I questioned her, the check-in person said no, I still had three left. They automatically did one since my results aren’t being included in the study anymore; apparently you have two tries max for that. So… one, then.

I was thrown. First thought: why the hell are they doing a free transfer if I’m not even included in the study anymore? Second thought: shit, I kinda thought I might want to have twins. Third: Last time only one stuck. Should I do two?

The third thought I voiced out loud, and the check-in girl brightened, “Oh, you want two? Ok, you just wait one hour, we can defrost another one.” I mean… how weird is that? An hour to defrost your child? Like a pound of chicken breast. This whole thing is just so bizarre.

In the end I opted to just do one. Both the check-in person and the embryologist commented on how “beautiful, perfect” it was. I now have two successes under my belt, and I just have a good feeling about this time all around.

The procedure went smoothly. I left with a script for Lovenox that I have not filled yet. I hear it’s quite pricey, so I don’t know. I should get my clotting result tests back this week, which is also conveniently when I can test. AHH! Beta on Saturday.

You know the drill… I need your thoughts/prayers/vibes for now. I know I already have them. It amazes me sometimes when I find out all the random people keeping up with my blog and thinking of me… so humbling. Thank you all for being there for me.

Sorry this isn’t the most eloquent post. I did a lot this weekend and I’m sorta exhausted. Hope everyone had a great weekend. And because I did it for the other two, I need to share baby’s first picture below. A so-called “beautiful” 5-day embryo.

Third time’s a charm.

thirdcharm

chiro-saulted

I wasn’t going to post until tomorrow but something really weird just happened, and it’s not like things can happen without me blogging about them, right? Plus it’s Friday night and I genuinely have nothing better to do than sit here and tell this story. Yup, I’m almost 30, all right!

So. Remember I mentioned that I scheduled an appointment with my mom’s chiropractor because he was having an open house and offering a “free consult, free thermo scan, and free x-rays” for one day only? Well, I did that. It went fine. As expected, I’m way out of alignment according to the thermo scan, with my results skewing awkwardly to the right. After my scan and x-rays, I stood at the front desk trying to figure out what was next. The receptionist asked if I wanted to join in on the doctor’s “Free Advanced Health Class” as it had just started 5 minutes prior. I, anticipating a dinner to cook and blogs to read, politely declined. After about 15 more minutes of bullshitting, the receptionist mentioned that Health Class attendance was required in order for the doctor to go over my x-rays with me. Yeah. Weird. And ummmmm HELLO, receptionist girl, you could have LED with that fact? So I didn’t have to make a whole separate trip back? Sheeeesh.

Not gonna lie, I dreaded the class. Thought it would be stupid. Figured it would be a total waste of time and energy. But then again, I really wanted to see my x-ray results, so I reluctantly showed up one week later as promised. I listened; I learned. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. There was a lot of good information, some things I knew, some things I didn’t know. I can actually see how this whole chiropractic thing could relate to infertility/miscarriage, since the nervous system controls every function of the body and subluxations can throw it all out of whack. Made sense. Maybe a leeetle bit hippy dippy trippy, but in an OK way. And he had a really cool model of the spine that he kept using to demonstrate his points.

Best part of all was after, when he offered to go over my x-ray results right then and there. I was like, sweet! Two birds with one stone. Again, as expected, my spine is slightly, but not severely, out of whack, especially right down by the tailbone (which for some reason felt significant). The weirdest result was my neck. Apparently your neck is supposed to be curved in a very pronounced “C” shape. But my neck is stick straight up and down. This is apparently a classic sign of whiplash. The only thing I can think of is a car accident from 2006 where someone rear-ended me and my car was subsequently pushed into the car in front of me (the only accident I’ve ever been in). It wasn’t a big deal, we weren’t going fast, and I didn’t think I had whiplash at the time. But that must be it. And most alarmingly, he explained that this misalignment at the top of my neck is putting severe pressure on my brain stem. The vertebrae that’s causing trouble is the same one that Christopher Reeve damaged and that made him a quadriplegic. An extreme case, for sure. But if the good doctor was trying to use scare tactics, it was certainly working.

Then he did an adjustment right then and there. After all the build-up, I figured it would take a good amount of time, but it was literally just a crack here, a twist there, and you’re done in 3 minutes. It did feel delightful when he cracked my neck (as I had heard it would). Oh, and I’m supposed to come back three times a week for at least 3 months, then drop to two times a week, then one. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Yeah, my insurance does not cover chiropractic care. Not one red cent. I went for the consult because I strive to live by my mother-in-law’s motto: “If it’s free, it’s for me!” I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do after the appointment. I figured he would want me to come back, but I didn’t plan to go beyond that first (free) adjustment. I figured I’d take advantage of being “fixed” for the day and then ride off into the sunset.

Remember, this doctor has been treating my mom for more than 20 years now. I remember playing pretend with his daughters in his basement (and, oddly, his younger daughter showed up at the office and proclaimed that I “looked exactly the same”…as I did when I was 8, I guess). I wouldn’t call him a close family friend, but I would definitely say he’s more than just a random doctor. He knows my family well. So when I explained that I couldn’t afford three times a week ($49 a pop), he said to just set up the appointments, go home and talk to Eric, and decide what we could afford to pay per week. Then we could just pay that.

I went up to the front desk to talk it out. His receptionist/wife asked what days would work well for me to come in. Again, I explained that I did not have coverage and couldn’t commit, rehashing the whole “talk it out with my husband” plan that the doctor and I had discussed minutes before. She seemed cool with it. I left, assuming I’d probably just conveniently forget to call them back.

This morning I talked to my husband. Some real talk: the budget is tight around here. I mean…seriously tight. As in, budget for chiropractor 3x per week = $0. So then. That was that.

But then it wasn’t. Tonight at around 8, I got a phone call from an unknown number. It was the chiropractor. Calling from a hotel in Connecticut! Calling because he was so concerned I didn’t schedule the appointment. I was so taken aback by the call… I tried to stammer out an excuse about money, but again he shushed my concerns and reiterated that I should just pay what I was able to pay. I didn’t have the heart to tell him my $0 figure. The guy was calling me from a hotel on his day off, because he was that worried about my spine. Maybe creepy… maybe a little. Definitely awkward. But if you would have been on the phone, you would have just made the appointment, too. He was like, “How far is our office from work? OK, so Monday, at 5:30. You’ll be there?” He should leave the medical field and switch over to sales. Start selling ice to eskimos… or selling anything to emotional, sensitive women on the eve of their embryo transfers.

So it would appear I’m starting chiropractic care on Monday, length of treatment to be determined. I also believe that I am the world’s first chiro-sault victim, because in that world “maybe” means “yes” and “I’ll call you” means “please call me.”

Do you think they accept jars of loose change?

the last red folder

Hello my friends. This is gonna be a quick one because I am so, so sleepy. Plus there’s not much to report.

I went for monitoring this morning and all looked good. And once again I was the only red folder in a huge sea of green, further proving what I already feared… the trial is over. This is probably it for me.

Our group orientation for the clinical trial was on December 14th of last year. So it’s conceivable (ha, see what I did there?) that the other two couples in our initial session could be pregnant right now. Heavily pregnant. Giving birth, even. That’s crazy to think about. I often wonder what happened to them, and if their stories played out very differently from ours. I hope for their sake that it did.

Transfer date is tentatively set for Saturday, which is fabulous because that means I won’t have to take an unpaid day off of work. I just have to go for blood monitoring Thursday to confirm my levels, then they’ll give me the date for sure.

PIO shots start tomorrow. Here’s the funny part – on the phone they told me to do Prometrium suppositories, which they’ve never mentioned or prescribed before. But then I was like, uhhhh no, I have three freaking bottles of Progesterone bought and paid for from last cycle, plus I’ve heard creepy stories about Smurf vag. I’ll stick with the ass injections, thanks.

And with that, I’ve realized how skewed from normal my life has become. Ass shots and Smurf vag. Eesh.

Guys…I’m getting really excited. I have a good feeling about this one for some reason. (And fair warning: obligatory “third time’s the charm” post is already in the works. Sorry, I have to).

wake me up when it’s all over

Anyone else feel like the blogosphere becomes a total ghost town on the weekends? Am I the only one having a lazy Saturday morning with copious amounts of time to blog?

I’m pretty sure I’ve expressed my love of anesthesia before. I was driving home from work yesterday and a super popular song came on the radio. The more I listened to the lyrics, the more I started to realize why I’m so obsessed with anesthesia.

The song was “Wake Me Up” by Avicii, and it said:

So wake me up when it’s all over // When I’m wiser and I’m older

…and I started thinking, YEAH. Wake me up when it’s over. When this shit is all resolved; when I have a definite answer. Wake me up when we make it past that impossible first trimester. Wake me up when I’m holding my newborn baby in my arms. Or, wake me up when I’ve resolved myself to being childless and I’ve come to terms with that decision. But either way… just wait to wake me until it’s over.

With anesthesia, you know something awful is right around the corner. The first time I had it, they said, “OK, now we’re going to rip four teeth out of your head.” The second, it was, “OK, now we’re going to enter your vagina and pluck out all your eggs.” Third and final time – “OK, we’re going to remove your dead babies from you.” None of these things are pleasant, right? So I was nervous. But then that magical fluid dripped into my veins and the next thing I remember, someone was telling me, “It’s over. You’re done now. You did great.”

There’s such relief in that! It feels so good to sleep right through the bad stuff. That’s why I’ve decided I need “life anesthesia” for the next couple of months. I don’t want to miss out on pregnancy completely, so I’d be OK with being woken up at the start of the second trimester. That would be acceptable (plus, that’s right around the holidays. I wouldn’t want to miss out on a visit from Santa).

I’m so tired. I’m a huge napper/sleeper to begin with, but the drama of all this has pushed it over the edge. Now I’m fairly certain that I’ve been using sleep as a coping mechanism. Now I really don’t want to wake up…like, ever. But I do want the end result. So if someone could come over and put me under into that gorgeous state of slumber for the next three months…. that would be great. Thanks.

a few answers and a billion more questions

As promised, here is the post all about Reproductive Immunology. Not sure if it makes much sense, but it’s something. Also, apologies if it’s repetitive. I actually wrote it a couple weeks ago.

On a good note, I think I am finally, after four days and hours of phone calls between me, my insurance, my OB/GYN, and the lab, getting my blood tests done tomorrow. Woo hoo! I also had a (free) consult with my mom’s chiropractor last night and found out that the right side of my spine is totally out of whack and my hips are “stuck” in one position. So hopefully I can get adjusted soon.

Apologies in advance if this post gets a bit too boring or technical. I am going to try to organize my thoughts logically here, but there is just so much going on in my brain. Also, sorry if none of this information is relevant. But if you suffer from recurrent miscarriages, unexplained infertility or IVF failure, there may be something of interest in the following mess of information. Here is my best attempt at working out the crazy wheels a’spinning in my head.

My mom bought me the book “Is Your Body Baby Friendly?” by Dr. Alan Beer. I knew that I would like it better than the “prevent miscarriage by ceasing your daily coke habit” book with just one glance – this book was THICK and HEAVY. It demanded respect. It sparked a little current of hope in me before I even opened the cover.

I’m not here to plug this book, per se, because I can’t speak to its effectiveness just yet. I will say that for $20, it’s definitely a worthy read if you suffer from any of the aforementioned problems. The first thing the book does is point out the absurdity of chalking up miscarriage and IVF failure to bad luck. The goal of Reproductive Immunology (RI) is to determine the source of these problems, and then to treat them. The authors are indignant that RE’s accept failure after failure or that anyone would say it was just “meant to happen that way.” They argue that a woman’s body was designed to accept and nurture pregnancy. When it fails, there is a reason for it. And – you guessed it – most of these problems can be solved with the help of RI.

The book spends a lot of time defending the field itself, citing examples of people calling Reproductive Immunologists “crazy whack jobs who are just out to get your money.” They follow up with proof of their success, describing women who had suffered seven or ten or (God forbid) thirteen miscarriages who carried babies to term by using their prescribed treatments. The book was full of hope, a lot of very in-depth technical explanations and a few logical reasons for recurrent miscarriage. Even if they’re wrong (which I doubt), the fact that SOMEONE was finally trying to explain and treat the mysterious tragedy of miscarriage made me want to weep with relief.

One thing I really enjoyed was that they laid out all the potential immune system problems AND the treatments. So basically I just saved myself $900 on a consult, because I already know what to do, right? Kind of. Here’s the thing: as I already said, Dr. L was so on point by prescribing Prednisone and baby aspirin. I’m so happy she did, because if she hadn’t, I’d be sitting here wondering if something as simple as that could have saved Baby Toast. Since many women they treat aren’t infertile, they also recommend estrogen supplements and Progesterone shots. And I’m like, I did IVF, I already have all that down on lock. It looks like I’ll be needing something even more advanced.

The most effective (if I’m reading correctly) treatment of immune system craziness seems to be IVIg injections. You have to pay a qualified nurse to administer them, they take several hours and you get injected with other people’s blood for $5,000 a session. Insurance doesn’t cover it because proof of effectiveness has not been established (and you can bet your ass that I’ve already searched for clinical trials). I’m going to say this again – $5,000 per session, and you need several throughout your pregnancy. So it doesn’t even matter if I want it, because ain’t no way in hell I’m getting it. Remind me again why I wasn’t born a millionaire?

So. Moving on. The only other thing that I haven’t been prescribed and that I can afford (possibly) is Lovenox injections to stimulate blood flow and Heparin injections (usually used to treat rhematoid arthritis) to balance out ANA antibodies. That’s a lot of injections. Not like I care. But throwing things at the wall and seeing what sticks – is that a healthful approach? Does any of this make sense for me?

So you know how when you’re going through infertility blogs, you look for someone who has a similar background and struggle to yourself? And you follow that person, hoping that your paths will be similar, especially if that path ends with a healthy baby? And it makes you feel so much less alone? I’m beginning to think I’ll never have that. I feel so different from everyone else. First of all, I had a pretty cut-and-dried case of infertility. The sperm analysis told the story of why we weren’t conceiving. We did IVF. It worked. Problem solved, right? Well no, then I had this whole other incredibly complicated problem. Not to be all “woe is me,” but I think I got dealt a pretty shitty hand here. We spent years solving one problem only to find another giant, mysterious, awful, basically unsolvable complication behind it. Sorry to sound like a broken record, but it’s just so damn frustrating. When will we catch a break?

As I’ve mentioned (perhaps ad nauseum), I have never, in all my research, found someone whose food intolerance seemed linked to their miscarriages. I feel like I’m trying to solve some unsolvable mystery here. There’s a short little section in the book that discusses elevated levels of eosinophils and asthma and the possible link to miscarriage, but it’s a tiny little snippet and it doesn’t discuss food at all. I cannot be the only person on earth who has had this happen. But am I supposed to waste $5,000 on other people’s plasma in case I have these killer cells, when really it seems like food intolerance is the issue? If I could just find someone with similar issues, I could follow her protocol. But I am alone here. There is no one like me at all. (As Amy pointed out, gluten allergies have been linked to miscarriage, ’tis true. I think that’s a fairly new school of thought and it’s not mentioned in the book at all. But you can bet your ass gluten is akin to rat poison when it comes to my new diet).

Here is what I know: my body attacked healthy, normal growing babies. That is not normal. Something inside of me is not right, and that thing needs to be corrected. I had my heart set on Bland Diet so I could absolutely ensure that my food intolerance didn’t cause my immune system to overreact. But this book… it’s making me question if the problem runs deeper than that. Maybe the food reactions are just a symptom, not a cause. And lets be honest, the term “NK Killer Cells” is really scary. It’s been haunting me daily since I saw it.

Yup, I’m talking in circles. I’m sorry. I’m happy that I read this book and that people don’t just throw up their hands and say, “It’s God’s will!” I absolutely believe in God, but I also believe that God gave us scientists to solve these problems so we don’t have to just suffer through them. Interestingly, the book includes an entire chapter on Eastern medicine (though Dr. Beer cautions that these remedies should be used in addition to, and not in place of, his protocols). The author of the holistic approach section starts out by saying she’s skeptical of using too many drugs and foreign substances. She, of course, recommends acupuncture and a peaceful diet. I like the idea of that. But is it enough?

So many questions, not a lot of answers. I don’t want to leave things to chance, but I don’t really think I have a choice.

I have, like, a week to figure this out. I feel like the answer is there, I just need to find it. Maybe that’s naive… maybe that’s crazy… yeah, it’s both. Definitely both.

do it differently

Hi, friends.

I want to say thank you. For your kind words of support, obviously, but also for your concern (I’m looking at you, Vanessa). It may be just me and Eric trying to make this baby over here, but I genuinely feel like we’re all in this together. So thanks for being so freaking supportive. It means the world.

I suppose you’re wondering what I plan to do differently this time. So far, I know that my allergic reactions, which logically seem to be causing miscarriages, are food related. Therefore, I’m putting myself on a super bland diet consisting of only the safest foods. What does that mean? It means I’ll be eating meat, eggs, white rice, and most vegetables – and not much else – for the foreseeable future. No fruit. No bread. No gluten. No dairy. Nothing processed. Nothing questionable in any way. In short, the most boring diet known to man. I kicked it off this week with a 36 hour juice cleanse (that’s as long as I lasted before I broke down and had a hard-boiled egg). Juicing is fun, but only when you’re allowed to use fruit. Otherwise the juice is bitter and makes the whole kitchen “smell like hay,” according to Eric.

Do I feel resentful of pregnant girls scarfing down McDonald’s and triple fudge cake without even thinking about it? Of course. But if this is what I have to do, so be it. I would gladly sacrifice delicious food for longer than nine months if it means I get to have a healthy baby.

What else? Well, I finally went on Monday to get my Blood Clotting Disorder Panel testing done. I’ve been putting it off and putting it off, but now we’re down to the wire and the results take two weeks, so I dragged my feet to the lab. Bad news off the bat – my new insurance doesn’t cover the lab I usually go to, and the test is suuuuuper expensive. Great. So I drove to the lab they do cover, waited 20 minutes, then was told that they weren’t sure which test my doctor wanted (there were three choices and they didn’t want to pick the wrong one). They called my doctor to confirm and had to leave a message. So after an hour of running around and frantically making phone calls, I never did get my blood drawn.

As if that’s not enough, the lab lady sounded skeptical that my insurance would cover this test at all, so once I figure out which test it is, I have to call them and confirm it’s covered. Did I mention I HATE our new insurance? Plus the lab they want me to use doesn’t do same-day results, so when we do get to the beta stage, we’re going to have big problems. (The lady at my old lab said that for stat blood work I’ll just need a referral, but still, it’s the rigmarole I have to go through that really ticks me off).

Lab lady has yet to call me back, so today is off the table. It seems like the universe is against me getting this stupid blood work. All the test will really do is determine if I need the Lovenox or not… but part of me is tempted to just take it no matter what. I don’t know. Besides Super Bland Diet, I don’t really have any ideas. Last pregnancy I cut out fructose, but I was still eating gluten and a lot of other crap. I’m pretty sure I reacted to coffee creamer right before it all went to hell. Of course I’m scared that it’s more than that, but there’s no precedent. I touch on this in the Reproductive Immunology Post (this week! I promise!) – there is literally no one else like me. No other person has reported that their food intolerances are linked to recurrent miscarriage. If there was, I could follow their protocol… or something… but as it stands, I’ve never heard of symptoms quite like mine. Frankly, it makes me feel crazy, like I’m spouting conspiracy theories or something. But these things are connected. I just know they are. I can tell when something is wrong, and I know for a fact that the food I ate caused serious reactions. I know my immune system went totally wonky.

So again, thanks for the real talk. Thanks for caring enough to voice concerns. I’m scared… but there’s not much else I can do besides just hope for the best, and this time totally eliminate trigger foods. And pray. Pray a whole lot.

Someone posted this story on Facebook the other day and of course I cried. But it also gave me hope. You never know when your rainbow baby is right around the corner (also, posts like this remind me that recurrent miscarriage or not, it can always be worse. ALWAYS. I cannot imagine how this woman survived with sanity intact).

it’s on

After much debate, both internally and externally, I called New Hope to report CD1 yesterday. And while I’m sure you don’t need me to, I do feel some sense of obligation to defend my decision to do this. Here are my reasons:

1) I was very disappointed when we didn’t get pregnant the low-tech way, despite all evidence that we would not (a.k.a. 2 years of evidence). Maybe it was the itchy nip, maybe it was just the fact that I’ve jumped that hurdle now twice. A BFP didn’t seem impossible anymore. HA!
2) Clinical trial, people, clinical trial. It’s over. My participation in it is questionable, since technically I was supposed to be kicked out in June. Any moment someone is going to realize this.
3) I’m not going to be able to afford going to a Reproductive Immunologist this century. Even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to afford the treatments. So… waiting changes nothing. I know the protocol. Dr. L can prescribe the things I can afford, like Lovenox. So why wait? (I have a whole other long post about my findings on Reproductive Immunology in general, and I will get around to posting it one of these days).

Anyway. I called New Hope yesterday, CD1. Person answering the phone checked my chart, sounded confused as to why I would call, put me on hold for a long time and then transferred me to the clinical trial mailbox (a veritable wasteland of messages that are never returned, as far as I can tell). I left a message, hung up, and started crying. I figured I was out of the trial. I even began researching clinics around here so I could start inquiring about prices for an embryo transfer, though it obviously wasn’t going to work out this month. Then I figured, hey, why not try to shoot them an email (pretty much the only way you can get a response). The nurse replied with, “Can you come in tomorrow?” Can I come in… so you can break up with me in person? So you can do monitoring? I didn’t understand. But still, I simply said, “Yes, I’ll be there.”

While I did feel better that they wanted to see me, I wasn’t entirely convinced that I was still acutally in the trial. Trial patients have red folders, regular patients have green ones (because they pay money?). I was literally the only red folder in a huge stack of appointment folders for the day. But they drew my blood. They did the sono. According to the ultrasound tech, my ovaries “looked perfect.” And then they sent me home.

I’m scheduled to go back Monday, the 23rd. So it sounds like the transfer is happening. I feel… nervous. Like it’s happening really fast, even though it’s really not. I hope that doesn’t mean I’m not ready. I think more than not ready, I’m terrified, so much more than last time. If you have one miscarriage, you won’t necessarily have two. But it seems like once you have two you’re likely to have more and more. And this is probably most likely our last try, despite having two more embryos left after this. But more on that some other time (or hopefully not, because hopefully I won’t have to worry about it).

I have a question that I’ve been curious about for some time now, and if it’s too personal or weird, I apologize. I notice that some of you get many embryos, do a transfer, then when you do another round of IVF you do the whole process over again rather than using the additional embryos from the first go-round. Is this just a fresh vs. frozen thing? A quality thing? I’m curious. As for me, I’m on my round 3 draft picks (I feel terrible saying that, haha, but it’s the truth). First time both stuck. Second time one did. Now… well, like I said, I’m nervous. I didn’t ask what the grading was because I don’t want to stress about it, but I’m assuming it’s good enough to potentially work or they wouldn’t bother. Does that make sense? Again, we have to use what we have either way, I was just wondering why some of you opt not to. Feedback appreciated.

September transfer. June due date. No psychic predictions, no premonitions, no weird coincidences. Just a random month and possibly a Gemini. I can deal with that.

ew, turkey

Ever hear of Wawa? It’s one of those places that I thought was everywhere, only to realize pretty late in life is only in my immediate area (it’s actually embarrassing how often that happens to me). Wawa is a convenience store/gas station with really delicious food. Their sandwiches are made to order, and they’re really, really good. They have breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, fabulous coffee… you know, lots of stuff you’d find at a convenience store. It’s also really clean and smells great. Just a good vibe all around at Wawa.

Today I went there (really, just to take a break in the day) and thought, oh, I’ll just get a Paleo-friendly pulled pork and mashed potato bowl. It was, predictably, quite yummy. Because I was curious, when I got back to work I decided to Google the ingredients. It had a few preservatives, but overall, not too bad. But then I kept reading various ingredients listings on their website.

They have these really good sandwiches around November/Thanksgiving-time called Gobblers. It’s not like they seem healthful…they have turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and gravy… I mean, they’re obviously a splurge, calorie-wise. But while researching today, I started to see just how bad they really are. Allow me to share the ingredients in Wawa’s “Hot Turkey.” Not the sandwich, mind you…just the meat.

HOT TURKEY INGREDIENTS:
SEASONED ROASTED TURKEY BREAST STRIPS CARAMEL COLOR ADDED (COOKED TURKEY BREAST, TURKEY BROTH, SALT, TURKEY FLAVOR (TURKEY BROTH, MODIFIED POTATO STARCH, TOCOPHEROL, NATURAL FLAVORS, CITRIC ACID) SODIUM PHOSPHATE, MODIFIED POTATO STARCH, SEASONING (FLAVOR, MODIFIED CORNSTARCH, SALT, SUGAR, YEAST EXTRACT, ASCORBIC ACID), CARAGEENAN, CARAMEL COLOR), WATER, 2% OR LESS OF MODIFIED CORNSTARCH, CHICKEN FAT, SEASONING (MALTODEXTRIN, AUTOLYZED YEAST EXTRACT, SALT, CHICKEN FAT, DRIED CHICKEN BROTH, FLAVORING, CONTAINS LESS THAN 2% OF DRIED CHICKEN, DRIED TURKEY BROTH, SUGAR), BLEACHED WHEAT FLOUR, CHICKEN FLAVOR (YEAST EXTRACT, CHICKEN POWDER, SALT, NATURAL FLAVORS, L-METHIONINE), BUTTER (CREAM, SALT), SEASONING (AUTOLYZED YEAST EXTRACT, CALCIUM LACTATE, LACTIC ACID), SEASONING (CHICKEN BROTH, AUTOLYZED YEAST EXTRACT, MALTODEXTRIN, NATURAL FLAVOR, CHICKEN FAT, SALT, SILICON DIOXIDE), CHICKEN FAT FLAVOR (CHICKEN FAT, FLAVORS, CHICKEN BROTH), SOYBEAN OIL, SALT, DEHYDRATED ONIONS, YEAST EXTRACT, SUGAR, SEASONING (HYDROLYZED SOY AND CORN PROTEIN, SALT), SEASONING (MALTODEXTRIN, SUNFLOWER OIL, MODIFIED TAPIOCA STARCH, CANOLA OIL, FLAVORING, AUTOLYZED YEAST EXTRACT), SEASONING (MALTODEXTRIN, NONFAT DRY MILK, SALT, BUTTER (CREAM, ANNATTO), ENZYME MODIFIED MILK FAT, ASCORBIC ACID, CALCIUM LACTATE, DISODIUM PHOSPHATE, FLAVORING, LACTIC ACID, MODIFIED CORNSTARCH, SODIUM CASEINATE, WHEY PROTEIN CONCENTRATE), SPICES, NATURAL FLAVORING, DATEM, DISODIUM INOSINATE AND DISODIUM GUANYLATE, DEHYDRATED GARLIC, CARAMEL COLOR..

I mean… it’s horrifying. It makes me never want to eat out at a restaurant ever again. You think you’re safe, ordering something like “turkey.” You think you are, but then for whatever reasoning you’re ingesting all these unpronounceable chemicals and additives. They add TURKEY FLAVOR to TURKEY. Shouldn’t turkey already taste like turkey? What is happening to this world?

I think I mentioned before how impressed I was that Turkey Hill released an all-natural ice cream with just four ingredients – milk, cream, sugar and cocoa. I just saw a commercial the other day for a cookie company bragging the same thing, with cookies that had a few simple ingredients and no preservatives. But aren’t we missing the point here? Shouldn’t the simple, all natural things be the norm and not the novelty?

Ugh, sorry for the rant. Sorry that these past few posts have been rant-y/whiny. I’m just so cognizant of food ingredients now. And clearly, my safest course of action is to just buy my own food and make my own lunch and trust no restaurant or convenience store. I guess I’m frustrated that I have to do that. I should be able to order turkey and know that I’m eating… turkey. Just meat, pure and simple.

Ute update: AF due tomorrow. Ever do that thing where you try to “outrun” your period? I swear, driving home from work today I looked at the clock and thought, oh, it’s 5:30, she doesn’t have much time to get here. As though if she’s late, that means I’m somehow pregnant. As if there’s a giant hourglass somewhere keeping time and if she doesn’t arrive before time runs out, that’s somehow a ‘win’ for me. Ah, the infertile mind.

I don’t feel pregnant. I had a really promising itchy nip episode on Saturday night that sent my hopes into a tailspin, but other than that… just cramps and moodiness and general feeling of “so not pregnant.” Blah. Sorry to be such a downer. Between the turkey and the impending AF along with all her superbitch hormones, it’s been a rough coupla days.