White as the driven snow.

Another BFN. Why is it that whenever you only get one line on a HPT the other area, where the second line should be, is as white as the driven snow? It's almost like the freaking test is pointing and laughing, saying "Ha, ha! No second line there!!! SEE? White, white and MORE white!"

Yes, I'll still go for the beta tomorrow, just so that I can have the utter joy of getting another disappointing phone call saying "Unfortunately, I don't have good news for you." It's like a God damned joke at this point.

This officially marks 18 months of infertility. We've been trying since March 2006. At what point does trying turn to sheer desperation?

When will this hell end?

These are a few of my (least) favorite things...

Why, when you re-meet someone that you haven't seen in ten years, do they feel the need to ask you why you haven't had anymore kids yet? Never mind that it's super-rude to ask it in the first place, but combine it with the fact that I not only haven't seen this person in ten years, but when I did see her, it was one hour a week at Lacrosse practice for the one year I joined the team in college. Never mind that I couldn't pick her out of a three person line-up before re-seeing her at a friend's party. I'm still honing my smart-ass, snarky reply to that oh-so-personal inquiry. If anyone can think of some snappy ones, let me know. I'll start trying them out on the rude jack-asses that feel it's necessary to ask about my fertility and let you know the reactions.

I’ll stop there lest you think I’m in a foul, cranky mood today. Which I am. Why? Because I’m tired. And I didn’t get anything done this weekend. I hate being non-productive. I let my brain rot last night watching TV because I was too tired to drag myself to bed. Damn idiot-box sucked me in again.

I officially applied for my ‘promotion’ today. It’s strange, because it’s not technically a promotion but it’s a step up the librarian-ladder. But I still had to apply for it, even though it’s been basically promised to me at this point. I guess we’re just waiting for the red tape to be settled. I should know next week sometime they tell me.

R and I are supposed to go to dinner with a friend tonight. Normally I would think this was fine and dandy, especially since we already have a sitter lined up. Except that our friend is a US Congressman and I’m pissed about the general state of politics these days. So pissed that I’m actually contemplating supporting John Edwards. GASP! I think R would practically disown me if I admitted that to him. I think I’ll bug our friend about Mr. Edwards’ chances. Maybe that will lighten the mood a bit.

Ok, since I’ve bitched about some of my least favorite things, I guess I should redeem myself by proving that I’m not entirely cranky and without joy these days. I started listening to Robert Krulwich’s science podcasts and I’m completely smitten. I’ll admit it, here and now, I’m an NPR junkie. I just love it. If I win a million dollars someday, I’ll donate a big chunk to NPR. Robert Krulwich just cracks me up. He’s so funny and entertaining that I’m contemplating playing him for E. Science was never more fun. If only my eighth grade science teacher could hear me now.

Baby-making math.

Dear god, my little cataloging head is spinning. I’m currently in the middle of a rather dry diatribe about deleting barcodes. See, I told you being a librarian was all fun and games.

I spoke to my nurse, who has finally returned from vacation, about what the next month holds for our treatment. It looks like we’ll be sticking with the same protocol for one more month. Because we’re going to be away for Labor Day and not returning until I’m pass CD3 I can’t start any new medications. She said that he will most likely start me on the injectible medications next rather than jumping right to IVF. I’m not really sure how I feel about that. I would like to cut out all this month-after-month waiting, but I know he’s going to want to do what’s most healthy and most conservative. I’m a little upset that I can’t start the injectible meds next month, but the timing just won’t work out. E’s been looking forward to his trip to Grandma and Poppa’s house for months and I don’t want to spend a weekend at home just because of another failed cycle. Such a crappy place to have to be. So, we’ll stick with the Femara/IUI combination for one more month and then start the bigger stuff. Sigh. Still, I made a follow-up consulting appointment with the RE for September 6. We’ll be too late to start a new protocol but ahead of the game for October’s protocol. God willing that we won’t need it, but at this point, I’m not taking any chances.

I went in for the progesterone test this morning. I’m guessing the numbers will be in the 40’s or so. Not that those numbers will mean anything other than the fact that I did ovulate. I hate numbers that don’t really mean anything. Oh, but wait. They DO mean something sometimes. While I was talking to the nurse, I asked her what to do about the uterine lining issue and then I asked her about my lower estrogen levels this past month. Last month the E2 level was in the 290’s; this month when I went in for my IUI the numbers were in the 80’s. I worried about it because there was such a difference and I thought the higher number would be the more desirable. No, the nurse told me, actually the 80’s is where they would expect to see that number. The previous month was the anomaly. In fact, when she showed the doctor those numbers, his exact words were “Well, that seems abnormal!” It’s not surprising that he would say that, since Femara is designed to artificially lower your estrogen. I wonder now why the heck my numbers were in the 290’s?

After last month’s devastating beta, I’ve decided that I’ll take a HPT this month instead of waiting it out. But, I won’t be testing until the morning of when the beta is usually supposed to be drawn. See, as usual, they are forcing me to do the beta even if an HPT comes out negative so that the doctor can make sure that I’m not pregnant and I can be cleared for another cycle. I won’t be able to do the baseline ultrasound because I’ll be in New York, so I’m sure they’ll have me come in when I get back, which will be Wednesday morning.

I’m heading to Hartford tonight to attend my first record label launching party. R decided he can’t make it, which, while it doesn’t surprise me, still ticks me off. This just reiterates my feelings that we’re running in completely different circles these days.

Update: The nurse called at 4:00pm to tell me the numbers 'looked very good'. I think she said they were 22 or so. I can't remember; I was distracted by the fact that they were so low. Last month was 38. A 22 doesn't thrill me.

When life keeps you laughing.

R has been traveling for about a week on business, so I've been practicing life as a single mother. It's not all bad. Especially when you have a conversation like the following with your three year old son while shopping at the mall for a new suit.

E: Momma, can we eat at the food cork tonight?
Me: Sure, we can eat at the food court. What do you want there?
E: I'm not sure. Momma, where's Daddy?
Me: Daddy's in Miami right now.
E: What's he doing in your-ami?

Miami. Your-ami. Man, that kid is just full of them. In spite of all this infertility craziness, it's moments like that that remind me how much I really, really want another child (or two).

I had the realization this morning that I will eventually get pregnant. Someday. I don't know why, but it just hit me. I don't know if it will happen this month, three months from now or even a year from now, but it will happen. I think I needed that realization to keep me going. Being INFERTILE is a bitch. Having one kid already puts me in the infertility no-woman's-land. I'm shunned by those who can't have kids and looked at as an 'ungrateful-for-what-I-already-have' brat. I feel alienated by larger families because of how much I want to be like them and am still unable to conceive again. It's like a big, fat, stinking label: INFERTILE. Always in caps. It screams at you from every corner of your life and there's no way to run from it. It's bizarre how it creeps up on you. Once you're stuck with this capital-letter label, you start seeing pregnancy, fertility and conception everywhere. And I mean everywhere. It chases you down in the supermarket where you wait in line at the deli and are surrounded by huge pregnant women. It's follows you on TV, where even the freaking meerkats are knocked up. It peeks it's head around the corner when you drop your son off at school and, lo and behold, there's a woman pregnant with, you guessed it, twins! It even stalks you at a job interview when, arriving early, you decide to walk through the non-fiction section to browse and kill time and somehow mysteriously end up in the fertility section of the stacks. You can't run from it. You certainly can't hide. It just becomes part of you, a part that you hate but you can't live without.

I didn't end up knitting last night because of the beginning of a migraine. It's still lingering, but I went to bed at 9:30pm and slept the whole night. I don't think I woke up once, which is a huge feat in itself. So, another migraine at 6DPO. Just like every other month. Not really a good sign for me, but I'm trying not to let it get me down. I'll admit, it bothers me. A lot. But I have to keep having faith that it will happen.

I am debating whether or not to schedule an appointment with my RE for right after Labor Day. If this month wasn't a success, I should be getting my period on or around September 1. The problem is that I would have to start my next cycle's medications on CD3, which would put me squarely on Labor Day. (Laugh if you can see the irony in that.) R and I have already talked about moving onto the next, more aggressive level. At this point I think the RE would suggest injectibles, although R & I have talked about going right to IVF. So, since I don't want to lose out on a month of trying, I'm going to have to call the nurse and ask her what to do. Plus, We'll be away until September 4th, so I would either have to get the meds before I go or lose out on another month.

As for IVF, I've been wondering how many embryos we would implant when faced with that decision. Two? Three? I don't think we'd go higher than three, but what would we do if all three hung on? Well, then I guess we'd have triplets. I really hate the corners that infertility paints you into. It's just not humanly fair.

Six signs of a very bad interview

I can’t even being to tell you how terrible the interview was. Honestly, I almost hope they offer me the job just so that I can laugh in their faces. How can you tell if an interview is bad, and I mean really, really bad? Oh, let me count the ways:

1. If the first words out of the interviewers mouth are “Oh, I see you just finished your MLS this month.” that’s usually not a good sign. But if, when you respond “Actually, I finished it five weeks ago. I ended up taking three classes while working full time so that I could finish my degree sooner.” and one interviewer says to the other “Oh, don’t we feel like slackers now?”, that’s a bad sign.
2. If, when asked the question “What would you do in the first month on the job?” you respond “Well, I would review the policies and procedure for the library, try to introduce myself to the community and the people I would be working closely with and maybe make contact with a professional organization” and the interviewer says “Whoa, we’re talking about the first month, not the first year!”, that’s a bad sign.
3. If, when asked about your current library experience, you reply “I found that I really liked cataloging and Technical Services, but I felt like I was still being called back to the public libraries” the interviewer responds “I was wondering why you applied for this job. We always say there are two types of librarians: there are catalogers and then there are the rest of us.” Not a good sign. In fact, I’d say it was a bad sign.
4. A simple question, “You mentioned that you’ve been taking your son to the library. Do you practice literacy based instruction with your son?”. What does that even mean? I asked a friend who is a school librarian what that meant and even she was completely perplexed. You guessed it, it was another bad sign.
5. If, at the end of the interview, the interviewer tells you “Well, we’re still interviewing people this week and then next week so we should have a decision right before or right after Labor Day. But we don’t make phone calls, so you’ll have to call us to ask if you got the position or not.” you can usually take that as a bad sign.
6. If, when you are leaving the interview, you say “I applied for the Program Coordinator position as well and I was told to just ask you about that position when I got here.” the interview says “Oh, we haven’t even started interviewing for that position yet” and you reply “Oh, that’s fine. I was just told to check in with you” and she says “Well, you checked in! Can follow directions, check!” Once again, bad sign.

I could rant and rave for hours about how terrible the whole ordeal was. Never mind the fact that they had an entire 8 by 11 piece of paper with nothing but completely asinine questions, never mind that one of the interviewers did everything in her power to make me remember that I had no experience with children’s literature, and never mind that the organization is known to have deep-rooted problems with the city. There is just no way I’d work for that library now. And as if I really needed another reason to want to run from that building, screaming as if my head was on fire, they made me meet with HR afterwards to review the benefits package. The healthcare for individuals was $56 per month; the healthcare costs for a family was, brace yourself, $438 per month. Add to that the fact that I would have to join the union for another $38 per month, and you’re looking at almost $6,000 per year in additional expenses. Just to put it in perspective, I currently pay $50 per month for healthcare and no union fees. Considering what the starting pay is here and what that job was offering, there is no way they would start me off at a pay level that would make the situation comparable.

So, all in all, my decision was made for me. It’s nice to not have to worry about it now. I’m counting my lucky stars that I’m in the position I am in right now and I just have to do everything I can do to stay proactive and get this promotion at my current position. God, if that falls through I’d be so upset now. Funny how things come into focus when you’re presented with less than desirable options.

All of this also makes me feel a little better knowing what we’re up against with the infertility treatments. At least now my coverage won’t be disrupted and we can keep going with our plans. If I changed jobs I would have to take at least one month off to wait until my coverage kicked in again.

As for this month’s chances, I haven’t thought about it either way. I’m refusing to let myself get so wrapped up in it like last month. Getting that negative test was so devastating that I’m just letting myself coast this time around. I’ve been spending my nights knitting and listening to podcasts instead of surfing the net, freaking myself out again. I’m tired of being disappointed. I’m tired of having my heart broken month after month.

Inmates at Git'mo didn't suffer this much torture.

Thank you for the positive thoughts. It’s nice to have people out there pulling for me, despite the monthly failure rate!

IUI #4 has been completed, so thus begins yet another torturous two week wait.

I gave myself my trigger shot on Wednesday night and was so, so tired on Thursday. I think it was probably a side effect, but who knows. I was amazed that I had virtually no side effects from the Femara this month; not even my usual migraine. I left work around 10:00am and headed over to the doctor’s office to pick up R’s boys. The counts this time were through the roof. Holy cow, it’s amazing how much it varies from month to month! Last month, pre-wash, they were in the 60 million range and 48 million post wash. This month, the stats were as follows: Vol. 0.50, Count 292 mil/ml, Motility 50.0, FP (which I believe means forward progression) 2.5, Total Motility per million, 73 and clumping 0. So, the numbers are high again this month. The total motility is the number that they want to see above 10 million and R’s was 73 million this month, 48 million last month and 14 million the month before that. I didn’t ask what they were the first month, but I seem to remember them in the 30’s. Still, high numbers or not, nothing’s been working so although I can’t rely on numbers, it’s good to see them higher rather than lower. It also makes me feel like I’m the ‘defective’ one. If his counts are so good, what the hell is the problem here?

My interview for the Children’s Librarian position is tomorrow at 3:15pm. I have such mixed emotions about this job search. I’m so torn about what to do. Part of me wants to stay at my current position; it’s easy work, I know I work well with the staff, the benefits are great (especially in light of how much infertility treatment costs out-of-pocket), it would show progressive movement within one library. All the usual ‘good’ reasons you would stay at any job. The Children’s Librarian position is something completely new and different. It’s at an ‘urban’ library, it’s loud and crazy in there, it’s messy and completely disorganized, I’d have no desk, no private space. But it’s in a public library, which is where I think I want to eventually go. Still, R’s been talking about moving again and I’m so afraid he’ll want to move before we get pregnant and then we’ll be screwed trying to get pregnant without infertility coverage. No pun intended. Despite all this, I’m going to do the interview and see where the chips fall. It’s all I can do at this point. I’m still holding out for that Program Coordinator position. If they offered me that job, and if I knew what the benefits were ahead of time, I think that would be the perfect solution. But, as we know, nothing is perfect. Especially around me.

E is officially knee-deep in potty training these days. I feel like I’m at his little bladder’s beck and call. If he says “Potty time”, I have to jump while the jumping’s good. It’s crazy, but I have to keep reminding myself this is his path in life to becoming a productive toilet-using member of society. He can do it, I just have to help out in any way I can. Imagining a world without diapers, pull-ups or the constant fear of ‘Is there a bathroom nearby’ keeps me sane these days.

Lining them up.

I went for the monthly ultrasound this morning and as of right now I have two follicles, one on the left and one on the right. They were both around 16mm, which is smaller than last month. I wonder if that's because the ultrasound was done one day earlier than last month. Who knows. It was strange to think that I ovluated from both ovaries this month; normally my body picks one side and sticks to it. I won't even speculate if that fact is going to give me more of a chance right now. I refuse to speculate about anything anymore. I'm wrong too many times.

I got a call from the nurse a few minutes ago. I think my nurse is still on vacation, which is unsettling to me. I hate not having contact with the person that I'm comfortable with. Still, she told me that I should trigger tonight and the IUI will be on Friday morning. The ironic part was sitting here, trying to decide what time to make the appointment. I kept thinking "Oh god. Is one hour going to make a big difference? Am I going to miss a window because I made the appointment for 11:00am instead of 9:30am?" It's crazy how much this sort of this will weigh on my mind. I guess it's just another part of the infertility rollercoaster.

As much as I complain about R and his antics, I have to be realistic and give him credit where it's due. Thank god he thought to ask the nurse about giving a frozen sample this month. I don't know if I would have thought about it once my mind cleared up from the disappointment of the failed cycle. If we had just hoped for the timing to work out, we would have missed it by two days. He left for Montreal this morning and won't be back until Saturday night; the office only does IUIs in the morning so that would have cancelled this month entirely. Clearer heads prevail once again.

I've been busy polishing my resume and writing cover letters for those two positions at the local library. I checked the library's website this morning and discovered that the Children's librarian position that I was hoping for was only being offered to current employees meaning that they were only going to consider internal candidates. I was disappointed but I figured it was more of an incentive for me to apply for the Program Coordinator position. Imagine my surprise when I get back from lunch and I get an e-mail asking me to come in for an interview for the position! I was so excited, especially since the website said internal candidates only. I'm wondering if maybe they haven't gotten a good response yet or if they're just fielding as many applications as possible. They're advertising for five librarian positions, so maybe they're just going to get me in there to see if I might fit somewhere else. You never can tell where these things might end up.

So, trigger tonight, IUI on Friday, job interviews next week. Life is getting back to its crazy pace. Gee, what did I ever do when I was in school?

Closing windows and opening doors.

IUI #4 is coming up this week. I have another ultrasound on Wednesday to check out the progress of the follicles. It’s one day earlier than usual, but I’m wondering if it’s because they want to try track my lining or what. I have no idea and because it wasn’t my usual nurse making the appointment, I didn’t bother to ask. Silly of me, I know, but I was at work and couldn’t really talk or ask questions. At this point, I feel like I’m just going along with the flow. The protocol hasn’t changed much, so there’s no real new information out there for me to ask about.

I’ve been trying to keep busy to keep my mind occupied. Now that school is over, I’m trying to get the property in shape so that we can get it sold and move on with that portion of our lives too. R asked me this week what I wanted as a gift for completing my Masters. I told him that I wanted less debt. He kept pushing and pushing to get it out of me, to figure out what I wanted to buy for myself, and I kept telling him that I didn’t want anything. I wanted less debt. Finally he said “The debt is really bothering you that much?” and I told him yes. I remember vividly how terrible it was when I wasn’t working and we were struggling to keep the lights on and food in the refrigerator. I don’t want to go through that again. When this second baby comes, I plan on taking two or three years off again and I really don’t ever want to be in that same position. Eliminating and paying down our debt is the only way to make sure that doesn’t happen again.

After my last post, I found out that our branch library posted the Children/Young Adult librarian position. So, I applied for that one too. That position would be so exciting to me! I would get to walk to work, it’s at my ‘home’ library, and I know the staff because I’ve been going there for so many years. So, now I have three potential positions available. I just have to keep on them and get the resumes in on-time. I already applied for the YA position, but now I need to work on the cover letter for the Program Coordinator and talk to our department head about the opening in our department.

I talked to my sister-in-law last night who is, unfortunately, going through the same process as me right now. Apparently she wasn’t ovulating at all, so they started her off on Clomid but then moved onto injections. It’s always weird talking to her about infertility. Believe me, I know how hard it is to live this rollercoaster month after month, but I get the sneaking feeling that she resents me for it. Now, don’t get me wrong, she’s the sweetest person on the planet. She’s one of those people that everyone likes and she’s genuinely just nice. But last night talking to her on the phone, I was talking about how hard this has been and she said something along the lines of “Appreciate the child you have.” I don’t think that people realize that infertility, whether it’s secondary or primary, hurts. It just plain hurts. I told her, without letting on that her words stung, that I felt like I was depriving E of a sibling and that it was even worse because I knew that my body was capable of getting pregnant but that I’m just not able to. I don’t know if she caught the drift or not but she suddenly became a little chilly and had to go answer some e-mail from work. Um, sure. On a Sunday afternoon. So then I felt like crap afterwards and silently resolved to just not talk to her again about it. Which sucks, because I really, really could use someone to talk to who’s going through it at the same time. We were also talking, before the mood changed, about what the next step was for both of us. I told her that R & I had talked to our RE and that if this next month wasn’t successful, we were most likely going to move onto IVF. I could sense something in her voice when she said “Oh, aren’t you even going to try IUI with injections?” I told her this was our fourth IUI. I said that after 18 months of trying, we weren’t ready to wait for three more months when IVF was where we were probably going to end up anyway.

I know I shouldn’t be upset or hurt by the conversation, but I am. I know it must be difficult for her to see my side, especially since she doesn’t have any children at all and I have E, but it doesn’t take away the fact that it’s still just as painful of a situation for me as it is for her. Yes, I’m grateful every second of every day that I have my son. But it doesn’t take away the heartache I feel when I get another negative beta. Or when I see someone holding a newborn. I still feel the same ache that she feels when I think about being pregnant. It doesn’t go away, even if you already have a child.

I’m starting to fret about the fact that we can’t seem to get a grip on my lining issues. If they can’t fix the lining issues, basically nothing will work for us. They won’t attempt an IVF cycle if my lining is too thin and as we know, IUI isn’t working for us. The RE told us that after six IUI attempts, they move onto another option because if you haven’t gotten pregnant with IUI after six tries, your odds of getting pregnant with IUI return to the same as getting pregnant naturally. So if we don’t fix the lining, we may never get pregnant at all. I don’t know how to deal with that right now. I just can’t think about it. I’ve been forcing myself to stay hopeful. Month after month, right after I get that negative test I tell myself “Ok, this next month has to be it. It will work this month. It has to.” What sort of idiot am I to keep telling myself this time and time again? Where does that blind hope come from?

Life marches on.

I started taking the Femara again on Tuesday. Just like last month, no side-effects as of right now, but I expect that to change tomorrow. I’ll probably get a migraine by the end of the day so I have purposely kept my night open so I can get to bed early if need be.

It always amazes me how normal life can be outside while inside you’re going through the worst situations. I know that life marches on even while everything else is falling apart, but it just makes no sense on how this infertility stuff fits into my life. It’s always there. The thought of having another baby is always in my mind during the day. I think about or should I say I feel it 24 hours a day. It’s insane how deeply it invades your soul, especially when it’s something you’ve had once but can’t attain again.

And, as I said, in the meantime life marches on. A co-worker gave her notice yesterday. Now that I have my Masters, I could officially move into her position. In fact, my boss came to me yesterday and said that she thinks I should apply for it. I’d be stupid not to, so I will probably throw my hat in the ring. I was chatting with my co-worker today and we were talking about the difference in benefits between our jobs. She gets 4 weeks vacation. That alone is enough to entice anyone, isn’t it? In the meantime, I’ve found what I think would be a fantastic job for me at the main branch of our local public library, as a Program Coordinator. Now, it’s not a librarian job, but it combines two of my career choices: libraries and events. So, once again, I’d be stupid not to apply. Especially since the starting pay range is between $10K and $20K more than I make right now. And they don’t even require a Masters degree and it’s only two miles from my house, so I’d be able to say good-bye to the 90 minute daily commute. And then there’s the possibility that I wouldn’t get either job. And that wouldn’t be so bad, since I already like my job, am used to doing it and am planning on moving sooner rather than later. At this point, I just have to wait and see where the chips fall. It’s nice to have some options these days.

Another trip to the starting line.

Now that I’ve snapped out of my infertile-pity-party, I guess I should update on all the craziness that is my life and start the new month off with a cycle update.

Femara cycle number 2 officially starts today. My usual nurse, who I just adore, is on vacation this week. I’m glad that she gets to get out of that office, but it bugs me that I’m at the start of a new cycle and have a ton of questions and my usual person isn’t there. Still, I cannot blame her. So, I’ll blame the new nurse, who is NOT doing a good job of setting my mind at ease. Need an example? I called yesterday to book my baseline, knowing that today was going to be CD3 and that I needed a baseline before getting authorization for the next cycle. The pills start on CD3 and the RE won’t approve a new cycle until he’s seen that there are no leftover cysts hanging out on my ovaries. So, I call to ask her to call in the prescription and to book the baseline. She asks me what meds I’m taking and I explain that the RE wanted me to repeat the same protocol as last month, but since it wasn’t a success, he was going to think about treating my thin lining issue. She started rambling on, saying that if I didn’t get my period then they would start me on prometrium, blah, blah, blah. Prometrium is progesterone; my progesterone has never been the issue. My estrogen is the issue. Plus, I'm on CD2 and that would mean I'm on the second day of my period. What do you mean 'if I don't get my period?' I just semi-ignored her and booked the appointment. Last night, when I went to pick up the meds, she had called in the wrong amount of pills: I only had half my dosage. Thank god I pay so much attention to all this stuff. Thank GOD I know what my protocol is each month. Imagine if I only took half the dosage and had no response? Doesn’t this woman understand what it’s like to waste another month after having failed for 17 months already? Every month is brutal. It isn’t like “Oh, what’s one more month?”. It’s torture. Every month that passes, every month that is a failure is just plain torture.

Anyways, I didn’t freak about it because I knew that I was going into the office this morning and I’d be able to sort it out there. When I realized the problem, I called the pharmacy to report the problem and work out how to get the extra pills without it causing a premature-refill problem with the insurance company. Luckily, they have the pills in stock, so I’ll pick up the rest of them tonight. When I went into the RE’s office this morning, a different nurse did my ultrasound and I explained to her the problem with the meds. She called the pharmacy right then and there to clear it up and order the new pills. She also went over my chart to make sure that all my other concerns were addressed and left a note in the file for the RE to call me about how to treat the thin lining this month. She said, as I thought, that he would probably give me some sort of estrogen, either an oral pill, a patch, or a vaginal pill. Not progesterone. The nurse also told me that it probably wouldn’t be prescribed until after I’d finished the Femara, so at least I have a few days to figure it out.

The ultrasound went well except that my right ovary decided to play hide-and-seek. The nurse had to dig around in there to get the brat to come out, but it finally peeked out right when we were about to give up. I had multiple antral follicles under 10mm on the left side and five antral follicles under 10mm on the right side. (Antral follicles are basically the follicles that are getting lined up for the next cycle. They are very immature and just waiting for the signal to start growing an egg.) So, no leftover cysts or any other issues from last cycle. Oh, except that I didn’t get pregnant. I would have to guess that’s an issue, right?

Of course, it just wouldn’t be the humiliating experience that infertility truly is without having some embarrassing moments to remember, right? Wouldn’t you know that one of the lovely side effects of the Femara is a heavier period. Joy, oh joy. I haven’t had a heavy period in probably 12 months. They’ve always been spotting, one day of medium and then five more days of spotting. Mostly brown spotting, but nothing really to speak of. This first post-Femara cycle has been heavy flow. And I’m talking HEAVY. Yuck. The nurse said it was one of the side effects but after the ultrasound, I had to lay there, legs in the air while she cleaned up the equipment and gave me a pad and wet-wipes to clean myself off. “I can see you still have a pretty heavy period right now, so I’ll let you clean up,” she told me. Isn’t that grand? It’s so much fun to have to lay there, bleeding, while a nurse pokes and prods you. And then the leaking all over the place while trying to maintain some dignity is just the best part of the whole experience.

Infertility is so much fun! I’m SO glad I get to do this!

Back on the road again.

So, here we are. IUI cycle number 4. Freaking fantastic.

Friday was a terrible, terrible day for me. I took the bad news a heck of a lot harder than I thought I would. I thought that waiting for the beta rather than taking a HPT would be so much easier. Boy, what a fool I am. It was just as hard, if not worse. Knowing that there was no hope, no chance was so harsh. At least with an HPT you get that ‘Hmmm, maybe it’s too early!’ hope, but with a beta, nope. You either are or you’re not. No way around it. It must suck to be an RE’s nurse, knowing that the phone call you’re going to make is about to devastate someone’s day. I would hate that part of my job.

R ended up coming home to console me because I was such a hysterical mess. Poor guy. He really gets the shit end of all of this. His natural “must fix this” instinct kicked in and he ended up calling the RE’s office to talk to the nurse to find out what to do next. I was in no shape to call or talk to anyone for most of the afternoon, so they discussed what to do next. The nurse said that the doctor was very ‘encouraged’ by how well I responded to the medications, so he wants to try another Femara/IUI cycle. R is going to be away on a business trip on CD14, when I’ll be ready for the IUI, so he worked it out with the nurse to have a sample dropped off this Thursday and then frozen so that if he’s not in town I can still go ahead with the IUI. Just the thought of skipping a month and having to wait six weeks to try again was enough to make me want to curl up and cry all over again. So, I think we have to pay the storage and thawing fees, but R said that was nothing to him. I think he was just so happy to be able to ‘do’ something to make me feel even the tiniest bit better.

L9 and a few friends from work took me out to celebrate getting my degree. Of course, it was on Friday night, so I was already in a ‘screw the world’ mood and ended up drinking way to much for my own good. L9, always my guardian angel, made sure that I didn’t make too much of an ass of myself. When we got back to my house, we sat outside and chatted for a while about how much life was changing for both of us. She’s moving back to her home state and I’m done with school and completely infertile. Amazing how much life can change in a few years. We’ve seen each other at least once a week for the past eight years. Eight years of best-friendship. I think seeing her move hits me harder even than getting another negative test.

I can’t write anymore. It’s all too depressing right now.

Third time's not the charm.

The test was negative. Another month lost.

If I knew then what I know now.

I realized the other day that if I had gotten pregnant on the very first month we started trying in March, 2006, I’d have a nine-month old right now. I also realized that I’ve been charting now for 12 months. And no pregnancy yet. I knew that we wouldn’t get pregnant the first month around and maybe not even the second or third month. But 17 months later?

My headache never materialized fully. Actually, something else popped up in its place. See, I have extremely sensitive gums. Yes, I know, what an interesting topic for the day! My gums! But, I have a point so hang in there. Ok, so I have very sensitive gums and every now and then, for no particular reason some spot on my gums will swell. And that is what is happening on the left side of my mouth right now. Four days ago, I had this terrible swelling behind my wisdom tooth on my lower left side. It was so bad that the glands on that side of my neck started to swell too, as if fighting off an infection or something. Today the swelling is starting to go down, but the entire left-side of my face, neck and even my ear are very tender and almost tingling to the touch. So (and here’s where I tie it all together for you), I think that’s why I had the pain in my left ear yesterday. Not the usual pre-migraine ear pain, but because my gums were swollen. So, the feeling of dread is still deep inside my gut, but at least it isn’t that 'I'm definitely not pregnant' feeling. And, I’m not even sure that this may or not matter, but my breasts are sore. Not sore to the point where it hurts to touch, but just tender. I haven’t had this sort of tenderness since before I was pregnant with E. I always figured that breastfeeding for 14 months sort of toughened the old girls up and they wouldn’t feel sore like they used to anymore. I looked them over before taking a shower the other morning and I could swear that my nipples look bigger too. Of course, this could all be the hallucinations of a dying-to-be-pregnant mind, but I’m trying to stay hopeful.

Hope. God, I hope.

What if it didn’t work this month? What if my body is just failing me? What if I can’t ever get pregnant again? Why don't I know my body anymore?