Who is this girl?

Today we went in for transfer expecting it to be like all the other transfers.  One or two to pick from.  All the others dead.

But, today...they were all still growing.  I didn't memorize the number/cell/grade of each of them, but they were all still in the running and some of them looked very good.  Usually, my clinic would have insisted that we wait until Day 5, but we refused.  Day 3 is all that has worked for us, so we're sticking with it.  We picked the two best embryos, a 7-cell and a compacting 8-cell with 0 fragmentation, both grade 1 (highest grade). 

We will find out out Monday whether they were able to freeze any embryos.

We are trying so very hard to not be hopeful.  To not fall victim to the allure of beautiful embryos and a nearly perfect cycle.  To not look up due dates.  To not think about how crazy it would be to manage three children.  To not wonder if maybe we would have a second boy or girl.  To not think about how different our perspective would be about life should it work out to be so EASY to have another child. 

They cycle that hurt the most was the cycle that we did up in New Jersey with the beautiful hatching blastocysts and the embryologist who told us she couldn't imagine that this cycle wouldn't work.  We hoped.  We were stress-free and elated the entire two week wait.  After the negative, I didn't get out of bed for days.  I had horrible fights with my husband.  I can't let myself fly too high because the fall is too steep and too horrible.  Instead, I will choose this middling place.  I am content with my two children.  It would be interesting, a nice to have, but I will not die or sob in bed or miss any more of my life if this cycle doesn't work.

And so the wait begins.

All 9 Still Growing!

At 48 hours post retrieval, embryos should be 2-4 celled.  Yeah, yeah.  We all know that.

As of 9 o'clock this morning, all 9 embryos are still growing.

I have:
2 3-cells
3 4-cells
2 5-cells
1 6-cell
1 7-cell

So, at least 5 normal embryos.

Transfer is scheduled for 10:30 tomorrow morning.  Think good thoughts!

Why is this happening?  WHO knows!  This is the EXACT same protocol that I did in April 2011 with Baby Girl, which yielded 6 eggs, 4 mature, 2 fertilized.

This ART stuff is freaking insane.

We'll see if there are any take home babies in there.

Mwah!

Best Fertilization Report of ANY Cycle I have Ever Done

15 eggs
10 mature
9 fertilized

AH-Mazing!

We'll see about the progress report tomorrow.  Hoping that we have at least 2 to transfer on Thursday.

I'm trying so hard not to let my excitement get the best of me.  I know what a roller coaster ride this is.  Some great cycles NEVER translate into pregnancies.  Some pregnancies never translate into take home babies.

Are you kidding me?

Retrieval today.

I about screamed when the nurse told me that they got FIFTEEN eggs. I have never gotten a double digit number of eggs! We shall see how many are actually mature. I am hoping that this higher number of eggs will translate into mature eggs and hopefully better fertilization rates than last cycle.

We shall see. Definitely more pain this time.

E2 Up the Wazoo!

On the past 3 antagonist cycles (IVF#6 in September 2012, IVF#5 in April 2011, IVF#4 in February 2011), my E2 peaked at 700-900 and I've typically had 4-6 follicles and only 4-5 mature eggs.  This cycle I have 5-8 follicles and my E2 on CD 12 is 1051.  I really think that I'll get 4-5 mature eggs this cycle.  My E2 peaked at 1400-1500 on the 2 long lupron and 1 microdose lupron flare cycles that I did previously (IVF#1 in Feb 2008, IVF#2 in Aug 2010, IVF#3 in Nov 2010) . 

I'm trying not to get too optimistic about this cycle as I had high E2 on IVF#2 & 3 that never amounted to good quality embryos.

My spirits seem to be pretty good.  I think I've come to accept having only two children and may even prefer it.  One day at a time.  It only took 8 IVF cycles to get this way.....

IVF#7

I've started this post several times.  Never seem to find the right intro.  And, so, I will just begin.

I am on CD 4 of my latest cycle.  I have one follicle that seems a little bigger than the others, which has me worried that we are falling victim to the one potential downfall of the estrogen priming antagonist protocol: a dominant follicle.  But, I have been through this enough to not get freaked out until absolutely necessary.  My E2 levels have been better this cycle (CD3=64; CD5=104), but still not great.  In my head, I'm just thinking that this is game over and that we are going through the motions so that we can tell ourselves later on that we did all we could and have no regrets about it.  I am sad to think that we won't have any more kids, but also feel like I am so lucky to have the two that we do have and so excited to be able to experience all the cool toddler growth stages with Baby Girl again.  I have these fleeting moments with Nugget where I am so in love with him, so engrossed in our fun little interactions, and I am thankful that I can really concentrate on each of my children and really get to explore with them.

Every night I read books with Nugget.  He usually negotiates me up from 3 to 4 or 4 to 5 and I am *such* a sucker.  You wanna read?  SURE!  He's still obsessed with dinosaurs and trucks and I know more about "diggers" and "buckets" and "cranes" (do you know the three main parts of a crane?  I do!) than I ever thought possible.  Then, we go through his alphabet cards.  Of course, the only letters he can remember are "N" for "Nugget" and "P" for "PooPoo."  After the alphabet cards, we have a couple of rounds of "Mommy Pizza" where he lays on top of me and pretends to eat me (weird, I know).  Then, we snuggle.  Then, I kiss him and he compulsively puts my kisses in his pocket.  Then, I whisper: "You are my special boy" and he whispers back "You are my special Mommy."  And, that's my absolute favorite time of day with him.  The rest of the day is a series of negotiations and dramatic fights over how awful a mommy I am to make him wear clothes, go to the bathroom, eat at the table, go to school, etc.  Also thrown in are a couple of excruciating boring games of "rescue Mommy and Grandma and Baby Girl and Nana and Gramps from the fire."  A few rounds of "swim away from the shark" in the basement.  And, some cute brother and sister play in which Baby Girl wraps her hands around her big brother's face and tries to suck on his nose.

In other news, I have been injured all freaking month and totally unable to exercise...which SUCKS.  I went back into running/exercise a little too hard core after taking off for IVF#6 in September.  For a couple of days, I couldn't even walk up and down stairs, so I am thankful at least to be able to move around comfortably in every day life.  I hate to think of how out of shape I am and how much weight I am going to gain with the wonderful combination of no exercise, IVF, and all the upcoming food holidays.  I know I'll dig myself out of it...but sometimes I daydream about just stopping IVF so that I can have control of my body again and can start progressing toward some fitness goals.  In the end, though, I know that said fitness goals are empty and won't give me the satisfaction I think they will.

My sister seems to be doing OK.  The outpatient program she is in is pretty intense.  I do worry, though, that I have NO IDEA what is really going on in her head.  We seemed to have moved out of crisis zone, though, and my parents have really been wonderful in helping her out and not saying judgemental things.

My husband's company is still being sued, but we don't know if it will actually come to fruition.  It does seem to be on more solid ground, though....which opens up the possibility of me quiting my job and really "burning the ships" to ensure that I figure out this career stuff.

Hope you all are well!!

The Unspoken Contract

This past week has been a cluster.

The negative.
Then my husband found out he's getting sued and this whole 5-year contract might be falling through and all the opportunity and hope that went with it is slowly waning.

And, then my sister tried to commit suicide.

Wednesday was her birthday.  I sent her a cute little card and exchanged emails with her.  She's been complaining non-stop about her life lately, so I didn't call her. I couldn't stand to hear her say one more time about how sad she is that she isn't going to "get" to have any more children (because she's decided that two is enough and she doesn't want to be pregnant again), or how much she hates her body after her twin pregnancy, or how she feels like her career is off track.  Because, from my perspective, she doesn't have the *right* to complain about these things to me. I can objectively see that these are things that would upset someone, but don't complain about them to your sister that had to go through many, many rounds of IVF to get pregnant and feels her own career is lost after spending 6 years focusing on fertility treatments. 

I say all these things because I feel defensive about why I didn't call her and why I have been distancing myself from her for the past two and a half years.  She doesn't appreciate what she has been given and she regularly complains to me about it and it fucking pisses me off.  I say this because I have been dealing with her anorexia, bulimia, depression, and alcoholism for the past 15 years and I'm tired of it.

What I didn't recognize about my sister is that she is not a tragically weak human with little self awareness, but rather a woman with a mental disorder than can't see truth because her brain won't let her.  She has a problem and no amount of therapy or drugs or self reflection will fix it.

And, I love her.  I can hate her.  I can be sick of her problems.  But, the fact of the matter is that she is my sister and I can't help but love her.  I know her in intimate ways that other people just can't.  I know the face she makes when she has to go to the bathroom. I know when she is manic.  I know the subtext underneath everything she says.  I know that the way my parents raised us has fucked her up (all of us really).  I know that she hates herself and wishes she could be different.  I know she feels guilty asking for help.  I know why she feels guilty asking for help. 

Seeing her in the hospital--her body covered in bruises from her rolling veins and IVs, the patchwork network of scabs on her legs and arms that she picks compulsively when she's anxious, the constant tapping of her shaking fingers from the remnants of drugs leaving her body-- and my heart just broke.  I don't know how to stop her from hating herself.

I also feel so helpless.  I can call her every day.  But, she lies.  She's not honest about what's happening.  She didn't tell me that she's been drinking 36-40 oz of hard liquor a day.  She didn't tell me that she tried to kill herself two weeks ago.  That she's been going to AA meeting again.  She gets violently angry when you say the wrong thing.  She's selfish and self-centered.  She just talks about herself.  It's not an equitable friendship.  It hasn't been for years.  I can sometimes accept it and other times...I get so angry with her.

She's out of the hospital now.  She's in outpatient treatment for alcoholism.  I'm calling her every day.  But, I don't know what else to do/say.  I've asked whether the outpatient treatment program has a support group for family members or some sort of training for family members on how to deal with this.  This is just out of my league.  I don't know what to do. 

You never think about the unspoken contract you have with the people you love.  You never think to say before you hang up the phone: "don't kill yourself, OK?"  You don't think it's a trust that you have until it is broken.