Jun 03

looking into the crystal ball (a post about psychics)

Jun 03

I have two stories about psychics. Ready? Here we go.

Psychic Story #1:

In this post I talked about my friend’s 2011 Mother’s Day message and how she went to see a psychic and asked about my infertility woes. Long story short in case you don’t feel like reading or re-reading it, she foretold that we would get pregnant eventually, it had something to do with the number 2 and it had something to do with February.

I also mentioned that I pestered her for weeks afterwards for more than she originally told me. Well, she gave me more. Specifically, she said that she wrote down (in reference to my situation), “the second one sticks” and “she will have a beautiful baby girl.”

Guys – I totally worried about this when I first heard it and again when I got pregnant. First of all, “second one sticks” to me sounds like second try. At the time, I believed that it meant I would have a miscarriage, and it scared the crap out of me. Of course when I got pregnant with twins, I assumed “second one sticks” meant second embryo sticks in addition to the first. Duh. Everything that psychics say is not literal.

What worried me then was the “beautiful baby girl” comment. Girl. A girl. Singular. Again, I tried to justify this by saying that maybe one would be a girl and one would be a boy, and the girl would just be particularly beautiful. Plus, IT’S NOT LITERAL. I had never even met this woman. But still, I couldn’t shake a funny feeling about it.

That’s not to say that I had any inkling that the pregnancy would go so horribly wrong. I put the prediction out of my mind (mostly) when I saw that first ultrasound. All looked good. The psychic was wrong. Whatever. But then… the impossible happened. We lost them. And “second one sticks” started to sound so relevant again.

As far as February… well, the first embryo transfer was in February. The embryos were created in February. But now I’m just thinking…this second transfer is going to be early June, which, if successful, would give me a late (or early, if it’s twins) February due date. For the second one. And NOW I’m officially freaked out, despite the fact that I could certainly have two again and she only saw the one girl. Maybe one will be kind of attractive, but smart? Maybe only one will take? Oh, I could do this allllll day. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Of course, I want to believe all this because it would mean that I carry this next baby(ies) to term, and that she (they?) will be stunningly beautiful. If nothing else, it will help calm my nerves when I (hopefully, oh so hopefully) get pregnant again. I’m already dreading pregnancy as much as I’m looking forward to it because I am absolutely, batshit crazy terrified of being pregnant. Like, ridiculously scared. I’ve never simultaneously wanted and feared something so much in my life.

Psychic Story #2:

Last fall, before we found the clinical trial, I was feeling particularly hopeless. One afternoon I convinced myself that visiting a psychic would be the best way to cheer myself up (obviously, right?). The woman who I went to see came highly recommended from several sources, and since the other psychic had been such a comfort for almost two years, I figured I had nothing to lose.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that this woman was approximately 565 years old. I have never met anyone that old, ever. I hope I don’t sound insensitive when I say that I would not have been surprised if she keeled over and died in the middle of the reading. She was that old. She also took two phone calls – loudly, and on speaker phone – during the reading and chicken scratched appointments into her ancient, paper appointment book. Yeah, I was teeny bit skeptical.

She read my cards and gave be a bunch of vague generalizations, as I’d imagine psychics tend to do, such as, “Someone who was in the military says hello” (seriously, is there a single person living who doesn’t have a dead relative who served in the military?) and “Children love you. They really love you.” (Wow…shocking). The longer the session went on without her answering my burning questions, the more agitated I became.

At one point she got very quiet with concentration for a few seconds and eventually said, “There’s a bird in your house. He keeps pecking at food in the corner of the table, near the leg of the table. He just keeps eating it!” She kind of chuckled at this. Finally, she asked if I had any questions and I exasperatedly asked about having kids, trying to keep the quiver out of my voice. She (pretended to?) think about it, then asked if twins ran in my family. She said we would possibly have twins, but not for a couple years. I left with a sense of bitter disappointment.

I did think more about the bird comment though, especially since we have a dog who is named Bird (which she couldn’t have possibly known, of course). He had been going into the dining room for no apparent reason for a few weeks, which was odd because the dogs normally follow us around and we never go in the dining room. I checked and re-checked the table legs, but there was no crusted on food. It just didn’t make sense.

A couple of weeks after the reading, Eric and I were rearranging the dining room. We had been given some really cool vintage pieces from his godmother that we had thrown in there until we figured out how we wanted to use them. While moving a large and cumbersome sideboard that we had placed in front of our little sofa table, we discovered this:

Crazy, right?! She was totally right! Bird (the dog) was nibbling at this random pile of dog food in the corner of the table. Like… whoa. Not that this matters or is relevant to my life in any way, but it proves that she must have some sort of psychic abilities.

If we are “ranking” predictions, I put a lot more credit on the first psychic. Maybe I just choose to believe her because that would mean that this (potential) pregnancy sticks AND that it’s our much-longed-for, absolutely beautiful little girl who we’ve already named (in, like, 2003). The twins comment is interesting, though…either Old Lady Psychic was referring to the twins we lost, or even this next set of twins. I went for the reading in 2012 and they would be due in 2014, so technically that is “a couple years.”

I’m not saying that I believe wholeheartedly in psychic predictions. But then again… I’m not saying I don’t believe them either. Anyone else have experience with all this craziness?

Jun 01

can someone get me off this emotional roller coaster, please?

Jun 01

I’ve mentioned before that at my RE’s office, most of the doctors/nurses/techs don’t speak English very well. So far my biggest issue with that has been the recurring need to make them repeat things during phone calls, and the occasional abrupt and funny conversation. Then yesterday happened.

I went for CD11 blood and sono and had to wait until 4 freaking 30 for the results. The whole day started off on a sour note because I had my least favorite tech for the sono, the same tech who did my “your babies have no heartbeat” scan, so I was already feeling a little weird about the whole thing (at least it wasn’t the same room). She usually tells me nothing, except life-changing, terrible news, but today she said, “Mostly we are looking at the lining… you’re at 7.7, that’s perfect… Follicle on the left is measuring 21, and you’ll ovulate soon.” OK, I can live with perfect. Great. But then I had to wait eight hours for the blood results, which is uncommon. Despite my earlier good news, throughout the day I convinced myself that my hormone levels would be unacceptable and we’d have to cancel this cycle. They finally called.

English as a Second Language Nurse: “I do not know how to say this…”

Shit, right? She even repeated it, followed by a long silence. My heart dropped. Tears formed. I was working from home, so I looked forlornly out into the backyard, doing quick mental calculations of how we could possibly afford to do an FET on our own by next month. What about a yard sale? Maybe I could sell a kidney? How long would it take to raise the money? Seriously, in the space of 30 seconds I was already offering up my own organs to get pregnant again. Then she continued:

ESL Nurse: “I do not know how to say this, but did you give us a copy of the tissue results from your D&C? Do we have those?”

On the list of phrases to be banned from fertility clinics, I’m going to have to recommend that “I do not know how to say this” should be in the top ten. She literally did not know how to say something. I guess she didn’t realize that in the English language, prefacing your statement with, “I do not know how to say this,” means that the next thing you say will be awful, awful news. I felt both relieved and emotionally drained once I figured out what the hell she was actually saying. We straightened out the paperwork snafu and then she gave me my transfer date – June 6th. I don’t even have to go back for monitoring between now and then. I just have to start my Estrace, start my lovely PIO injections, and show up at 11:30 on Thursday to get pregnant.

I feel weird about this. We did a natural cycle FET last time, so I feel good about that, but I remember going back every day around ovulation to determine the precise time of it happening. They even gave me some nasal spray to induce it when I hadn’t ovulated by CD15. But this time, they’re just like, “Uhhh… yeah, come back Thursday. That should be good.” Maybe because it worked last time, so they don’t feel the need to be so precise? Maybe they don’t care that much? I just don’t know. And once again…I’m at the mercy of these people and cannot demand answers since I’m not a paying customer. I’m just a number in a study. I’m just a girl getting a free ride who needs to sit down and shut up.

I got a second emotional smack in the face on that same phone call. At my miscarriage ultrasound, Dr. L mentioned the possibility of just transferring one embryo for the next round. I’ve been mulling that over for the past 6 weeks and had finally come to terms with it being a good idea. I was scared of my ability to handle twins, especially for my first children, not to mention the added risks of having multiples. Plus it felt even more like trying to “replace” my lost children. So I made the decision. Yes, we would just transfer one. I had a higher level of confidence that just one would work since both of them stuck last time.

On the call, ESL Nurse said, “We will transfer two embryos.” I protested, mentioning that Dr. L had offered to just do one, but she said, “No, no that would break protocol. We have to do two.” So again… six weeks of planning and decision making was out the window. I’m scared enough to be pregnant; now the likely chance of twins again? I couldn’t sleep last night. I’m just so worried. (And before you ask if I can just talk to Dr. L, I’m now remembering that she kept getting confused if I was a clinical trial or regular patient. So she probably thought I was regular when she offered to do one. I know it makes more sense that they would have to do two again, so they don’t screw up the study).

I know, I sound like an asshole. Here I am so concerned about achieving the greatest goal: getting pregnant. Poor Amanda, her lining is just too welcoming and sticky. But I am a little messed up about the twins thing. More than I realized before I got that call. I’m stuck in that same conflicting place of wanting both my babies but only wanting to have one at a time. I can’t have it both ways, I know that.

This post just reeks of skepticism and negativity, I’m now realizing, but the entire gist of it is good news. I get to do a transfer this cycle. I knew it would be June 6th because that is my dear friend’s birthday, a friend who has been inexplicably linked to my infertility in strange and amazing ways (post explaining this further to follow). When I saw that things were lining up for early June, I thought, “The 6th. It’s definitely the 6th,” and it was.

Onward to Thursday, then…

Wheee!

Mar 21

and maybe two… is better than one

Mar 21

*cue Boys Like Girls featuring Taylor Swift lyrics*

If you’re here from ICLW, welcome to my little space! Quick recap: I just did my first round IVF in February and so far, it was successful. Fingers crossed that it stays that way.

So two days ago I had my paperwork appointment with my regular OB. I figured I would get it all out of the way and hopefully find out when/if they were planning on doing an ultrasound so I could figure out if I had to drag Eric to NYC or if we could just go right around the corner instead. The paperwork went well, I disclosed all my dirty family secrets of heart disease and diabetes and reassured them 14 times that I did not have a cat. At the end of the appointment the nurse said, “Ok, so let’s schedule your first ultrasound… how about Thursday at 10 am?”

Um… come again?

New Hope isn’t doing an ultrasound until next Saturday, and I just assumed this place wouldn’t care to see my insides until 9 weeks. I have no idea why they wanted to do one so early (because I’m IVF?) but I was also excited to finally get to see what was going on in there, so I didn’t question it.

As it turns out Eric did not want to waste a vacation day on this and I couldn’t really blame him… especially since I wasn’t sure if we would see anything anyway. So my sister came along instead, at her insistence. The doctor went over a lot of the things I had already covered two days prior, then got a little confused when I mentioned my transfer was on the 28th. She said, “Wait, then you’re not even a month along yet?” with a sort of accusatory tone. Um, hello, I’m not the one who scheduled this! She warned me that we might not be able to see anything at all and that I shouldn’t worry if we don’t. But then… there were 2 sacs.

Two sacs! She actually used the words, “for now…” and did not seem as excited as my sister and me, so I keep saying “for now” every time I tell someone that there are two. I know all about the disappearing twin phenomenon. But you know what? I’m not really surprised that there are two. I was prepared for this. First of all, this whole IVF experience has revolved around the number two. Second, they transferred two embryos into a decently healthy uterus, so… it’s not some huge shock. I know there are more risks and I know it will be more work but you know what? I’m happy. I get a BOGO deal. I get to make up for a couple of years wasted on TTC that just wasn’t working. I get to raise two siblings who will always have that beautiful bond that only twins understand. This is a very good thing.

I’m looking forward to actually hearing the heartbeat(s), but I’m being patient. This couldn’t have come at a better time because on Wednesday morning I had some post-intercourse spotting that sent me into a freaking panic, but clearly everything is still OK and multiple friends/medical professionals have assured me it’s totally normal. Still, I think it’s best to wait for the second trimester to risk it again. Seeing blood at any time during this early time is just not worth the anxiety.

The other day I stumbled across this list of celebrity twins. I had no idea Ashton Kutcher and Giselle Bundchen were twins. Craziness!

Holy crap, I’m gonna get fat. Twins. Whew.