And then there was one.

I just can’t get over how different two cycles can be. I’m PUPO right now with my one good embryo from this cycle. The other two were pretty sluggish and the embryologist said not to expect anything to freeze.

So there you go. It’s a relief that I had something to transfer. I’ll be a little less expectant in future cycles. Hopefully I won’t need any, but you know me. Pessimist at heart.

And in other news, even if I don’t get pregnant, I think my last minute idea for a trip to Vietnam was exactly that. Last minute. All the cheap fares are gone, and I don’t think I can bring myself to pay the equivalent for a flight to Barcelona, so I guess I’ll have to contend with a daytrip out to Cabramatta instead.

 

 

The belly shot that isn’t.

This is what my bloated, distended stomach looks like 2 days after EPU.

And see those side slits, they usually hang loosely together.

The three fertilised embryos progressed overnight, all splitting into four cells. Two are A grade, one slightly fragmented. Fingers crossed that one of them makes it until Monday.

 

Jinxed

Looks like my predictions for a similar result to last cycle were way off the mark. I knew I jinxed myself by putting it down.

10 eggs, but only four mature. Three fertilised.
Hopefully one will make it to Monday for transfer. Last time, five of the seven fertilised made it, so fingers crossed at least one does.

And if they all die, one of the frozens will be used.

Gosh its hard to go from a High Distinction to a Pass, especially considering the physical pain I am in right now.

Stuff that makes me feel better

I know I come across as a bit up an upbeat chica with a devil-may-care attitude, but I do feel things deeply. I’m a bit manic in my behaviour. One minute up. The next I am on the floor crying into my hand knotted, pailette covered rug lugged back all the way from Fes, Morrocco.

But I have a list of things that make me feel better. And please don’t judge. I’m not perfect and I’m sure many of you may have your little addictions. It could be a kilojoule and trans-fat laden treat from McDonalds, or a block of chocolate with cocoa farmed by poorly paid indigenous Brazilians or Venezuelans. Or it could be a shopping spree on clothing from indentured slaves masquerading as Vietnamese sewers. Or well paid artisans from ateliers on Rue St Honore. Whatever, I’m not going to judge.

My feel good things surprisingly don’t include vino. It makes me feel worse, but for some reason Champagne (and I’m talking Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée, none of this “sparkling wine bullshit) does the trick.

I like massages – cheap and Chinese or expensive and luxe – I don’t care just as long as they ease my tension.

Travel. Talking about it, planning it, thinking about it. I felt so shiteous this afternoon that I suggested a short jaunt to Vietnam in early January.  To my delight, my partner agreed, so if this cycle turns out to be a failure, and depending on price and availability of flights,  we will potentially have that to look forward to. If it doesn’t work out, at least it will have been fun doing the research.

Codeine. Probably the worst feel-good, and one I have struggled to stop for a few years, but its fuzzy numb goodness just makes me feel better. See, I knew you were going to judge.

Cooking. The most complex thing I can find. Tonight’s dinner consists of no less than 30 different ingredients, involved a mortar and pestle, wok, salted duck eggs and a new variety of fish sauce recommended by the guru of Thai cooking, David Thompson.

Drawing. I love to draw. sadly, I have such a short attention span I have failed to finish anything since my uni days.

Sewing. See above.

Reading. It’s about the only thing that stop my mind from going crazy in its constant “what if” circles.

That’s all for now. Sorry for the self indulgent, melancholy mood, dear readers. I don’t know if it’s hormones, but I just don’t feel my usual wonderful self.

Triggering, but who really cares.

I’m shooting up as I type!

Got the go ahead for EPU this Wednesday, so I’m just doing my last shots of Lucrin and Puregon now, followed by a trigger shot of Ovidrel at 10pm tonight, and we should be good to go.

Feeling meh about the whole thing though. Today’s clinic visit was idiotic. My vein did a Vesuvius all over the wall – I swear it was like arterial spray from CSI: Miami – there was no discrete metre of interfacing to cover up my bloated stomach and untended bikini line  (and I know a muff shot to a FN is like the most normal thing on earth, and as a former life model, I would like to say I am totally comfortable with my naked form, HOWEVER, I like a bit of cloth to protect what little modesty one can have whilst doing IVF) and she was rushing through things so quickly, I don’t think she did a proper count of my follicles.

But whatever. We shall see on Wednesday.

And in other news, I am self medicating with a pinot on a school night because I am SICK of being fucked around by potential employers who make tentative job offers, then advertise said job.

What’s wrong with me? Aren’t I good enough? Or is it that I am a 33 year old woman and a potential liability.

No, I’m not pregnant, just overstimulated.

I was reading something the other day that said weight gain can cause overstimulation in women with PCO. I have put on 10 effing KGs since I quit my job and I’m wondering if my fat arse has anything to do with the fact that I seem to be stimulating at a rather alarming rate.

30 follicles. Mind you, only eight were over 10mm, but the rest were between 8 and 10, giving them a chance to catch up before next Wednesday which is when I think egg retrieval will be – E2 was only 1180, so plenty of time to grow and hopefully will stay on the right side of 4000. Those follicle numbers are big but I’m not too worried about getting the dreaded OHSS. ( I better not be back here in a week crossing that out. Did I just jinx myself?)

But I do look pregnant. My jeans are too uncomfortable to wear, so I have resorted to dresses which are just so unflattering on a distended stomach. And I swear I got an empathy smile from a pregnant woman this morning. It’s gonna be a hot one in Sydney and she saw me fanning myself as I waited for my coffee (with my receipt for $5000 I had just paid to the clinic for this cycle. That’s enough Frequent Flyer points for a third of a return trip to Melbourne, thank you very much) and she was doing the same  – only with a copy of Famous starring KStew and RPatzz on the cover (six sleeps til New Moon. Muchisimo de excite, yes I am a sad, SAD old lady who has a thing for a sparkly 17 year old) – and I’m so sure she gave me the old “Yeah, pregnant in Summer sucks massively, doesn’t it?” look.

Actually, I was probably just imagining it, and enjoyed pretending to be pregnant because I am such a sad loser and would rather look pregnant than fat.

So yah. I predict retrieval numbers similar to last cycle. I farking hope so at least. But as I said before, one to transfer and one to freeze is the outcome I hope for. I know there are some lovely ladies out there who are having problems even getting one egg, and if I could give you some of mine, I totally would.

 

 

Stimulation – it’s not always sexy

I’m starting my stims tonight. This is the fourth stim cycle I have done this year. Two IUIs and now my second IVF. All on the same dose, funnily enough. It’s strange how just plain old Puregon without down regulation will produce 2 or 3 follicles, but add the Lucrin or Syneral to flatten things off before the kickstart, et voila – superovulation (I hope)

So again, not expecting much. I want one to transfer and one to freeze – I’ll be upset with less, and pleased with more. I know that some IVFers don’t even get that, so I’m so thankful for my apparent ability to stimulate well. It only takes one though and I have read gazillions of stories about poor responders with a two cell embryo who get pregnant. Meanwhile me and my five x five dayers are looking great, but doing nothing.

So getting pregnant and getting a healthy take-home baby would be a great outcome. Is that too much to ask, ye Gods/Goddesses? I’m sick of being Token. I have had enough. I wanna mainstream. I want to be MOR.

And on another note, I called my FS yesterday to request a script for Endone. I wanted it in case What Happened Last Time happened again. I wanted to be prepared. I have already requested to be first on the list on my day for Egg Retrieval, but I wanted the option of some Oxy should bad stuff happen. But he wouldn’t give it to me!! He started asking me all these questions about drug use, kind of tongue in cheek, I think, but I’m not really sure.

Now I’m worried he thinks I like the ‘done a little bit too much. Hey, I probably do, but I think about going through that pain again, and my hands start to sweat. I am scared. I remember what happened, how painful it was, how I thought I was going to die, and I am scared it is going to happen again.

God love my GP. She sorted me out with some Valium so I can relax, but the pain, the pain. He did compromise with some P-fortes, which are fine, but I’m just scared. And the only other thing that scares me are sharks. Not funnel web or redback spiders, not box jellyfish and certainly not snakes. Ok, I don’t like flying either, especially sober.

On y va!!!

Clutching at Straws, or, When Desperation Sets In.

CD1 yesterday, which is a good thing. And it happened to coincide with the full moon.

So like the fucking freak I am, I decided to take a run around the backyard to soak up some healing Goddess fertile energy. Skyclad as the Pagans would say, but in this neck of the woods, we call it a nudie run.

I don’t think any of the neighbours saw – mind you the kitchens and dinning rooms of all eight apartments in our block look down over the garden, but despite the full moon, it was a dark night and I’m pretty sure I got away with it unseen.

Is that weird?

Show and Tell – My Friend

So I’m trying to be a better community blogger and following on from ICLW’s epic fail, I thought I would try joining in again with Show and Tell Thursday. Only I’m in Australia, so it’s Friday. But whatever.

I’m really good at joining in IRL. Go to a party and I’m a talker, I’m good at team sports, I chat with oldies at the bus stop and the checkout girls at the supermarche, but I don’t really join online. I have my online friends, of course, but I don’t join buddy groups or anything  like that, so it has taken me a while to warm up to the whole community thing. So here’s my first Show and Tell.

Isn’t he cute!? I saw him yesterday morning while out shopping at the fish markets. He’s pretty big – the pic doesn’t do him much justice, he must have been at least one metre tall. And see the woman in the background? She was a Czech tourist and was very taken with him. He was really tame and she got up right close to him but then when she tried to pat him, he totally freaked out and nipped at her.

It was funny.

But I just loved the way he was hanging out in the car park. Doing nothing, just standing around waiting for the odd prawn or fish scrap to make its way over.  Friendly.

It’s not you, it’s me

Just wanted to offer a quick apology to ICLWers. I don’t suck as a commenter, I truly don’t, but it appears I have been banned from Blogger. I can’t access blogspot.com and so if you use Blogger, I can’t read your blog and comment.

I have rolled my IP innumerable times and I can get onto Blogger initially, but then for some reason, all subsequent sites time out.

But fear not. I am married to an IT genius and whenn he has some time – probably on Friday night he will fix it, but until then, I’m not ignoring you, I just can’t read your blog.

xox