Labor Negotiations

You better shop around

Well, so much for that approach. Not only did they not match me with a donor, last week, it looks like I didn't get matched this week, either. MTHFR! Since they have a skeleton staff and lab closure the last two weeks of every December, I give up on hearing anything until January. I guess its just as well, anyway, since K and her partner are going on a mini vacation March 3rd-7th. Might as well have an embryo transfer after that.

I had my appointment with the Hemadoc today (terminology borrowed from Pixi ). However, he didn't seem to be up on the latest MTHFR research, or medical research, either, for that matter. He actually asked me if the embryo would be transferred from me to my GC. I thought I misunderstood, but no, that's what he was thinking. I even had to insist that you don't need your fallopian tubes to conceive wih IVF. He had a hard time understanding why you would need the Lovenox, pre-conception, as well, but I think I explained it to his satisfaction. Somebody has to be last in their class...sheesh...the gist of it is, that he is willing to put me on 45 mg of Lovenox twice a day "prophylactically." If you know what the usual dosage is, per kilogram of weight, you could try and guess my weight based on this dose, just for fun. Hint: I'm heavier than even I thought I was. The other interesting thing I discovered after looking over my records was that I am not a MTHFR Homozygote, I'm a compound Heterozygote. My RE tends to dumb everything down for his patients and only succeeds in making things more confusing. Don't they realize that we Google the shit out of everything? Anyway, not as serious as I originally thought, but anecdotal evidence still points to low molecular weight heparin treatment, regardless. And damn it, I'll buy it on the black market if I have to! I still have the pre-conception consult with the peri to back all this up if needed.

In other news, my orthodontist is a dick. After letting my right upper bi-cuspid wallow in "activeness" for nine months without ever having zing strings added and tightened, he has given up on it saying that he "thinks" it is fused to the bone. The old me wouldn't have questioned this, but one thing infertility has taught me, is to challenge everything any doctor tells me. Also, I have a hard time giving up on all of my body parts at once. I have several reasons for thinking he is full of it. Like I said, they didn't touch it in nine months. They finally but a zing on it 3 1/2 weeks ago, looked at it on Monday and pronounced it "fused." The other upper bi-cuspid is coming in, albeit with problems of its own. When I told him I wanted to give it another two months, he, himself, said there wouldn't be much movement  for five or six months. Well, then why are we giving up on it after three weeks?! The problem with the tooth that is coming in, is that its coming in backwards (and I assume the "fused" one is too) and will need to be rotated. Also, one of the techs "lost" a button (with a wire attached to it) in my palate tissue a few months back and that wire is now poking out through my gum towards my lip. Does it hurt, you ask? Like a MTHFR! And it bleeds a lot because of the baby aspirin I'm on. I have to see an oral surgeon on the 27th to have it opened up, so that food and bacteria don't get in there. It never ends. Anyway, he's agreed to let it go for five or six more months, since its my mouth. I had a little panic attack last night, when I realized that even if I wanted to take these stupid things off, I can't because my overbite and overjet are so pronounced now, I look like a buck-tooth dufus. My mouth barely even shuts anymore. Well, even on a good day, I had trouble shutting my mouth...hee hee.

Now to my holiday rant. A Holiday photo "strip," or whatever they're called, is not a card. Don't expect me to hang it up in my house or anything.  I find them annoying and a constant reminder of all the children everyone else is having. At least stick it in a card. If I ever feel the need to send a picture of my children, it will be enclosed in a card, not in place of one, and sent to family, only. (permission to revisit this rule if and when I ever have kids...) I mean, do you really want pictures, every year, of all your acquaintance's kids? Do you throw them away or what? Photo archiving was kind of a big deal to me in my photography minor days, and I have trouble throwing pictures out. I even have a hard time deleting images from my digital camera! Which means I have a big box full of pictures of other people's kids. It's like getting five birth announcements every day in December. Now, Holiday letters are another thing (unless they are in place of a card in which case, see the above rant). I don't mind these, in fact they're kind of fun to giggle over. But God help me, if I ever feel narcissistic enough to send one out, shoot me! Infertile friends are exempt from this rant...show those kids off!

Rant number two. D's Holiday party was last week. I guess I'm turning into an old Scrooge, but is a "White Elephant/Rob Your Neighbor/Dirty Santa" gift exchange, license to "re-gift" every crappy present you've ever gotten? I actually took some time to put together some nice gift "bags." One with a food theme and one with an alcohol theme. Universal appeal. One recipient even sought me out to thank me, so I'm pretty sure she liked it. But D and I left with the usual Liberace-looking mirrored candlesticks and a sound-fountain-light thingy. Blech. I know its the thought that counts, but I swear I won't put any effort in next year...Bah Humbug! Maybe I can use the fountain to lull my babies to sleep someday?

D and I bought ourselves an early present. The Ab Lounge. Its great. I can do regular and lateral crunches and my back doesn't get too sore. I've seen such fast results, its gotten me motivated to start exploring the other fitness gadgets we've purchased in the past.

On another holiday retail note, I explored online shopping in even more detail, this year. First of all, did you know that you can buy gift cards from major retailers from the US post office? They will even enclose them in appropriate cards for every occasion. And they have quite a selection of cards, too. I also bought my stamps online, and discovered the debit/credit package weighing machine at my local post office. I didn't wait in line once this year. I hardly stepped foot inside a store either. Now that's what keeps me in the holiday spirit!

Just wanted to give a shout out to my lurker(s) from Belgium! How's my fatherland? Since I finally figured out how to add it to my blog, I have fallen in love with Site Meter. Cool features, I had NO idea! I feel like Big Brother, now.

And TypePad is sucking to a new level lately...agreed?

Jedi Mind Tricks

Ok. So, I wanted to feel like I was a little more in control with regard to the cycle, right? Yesterday, I decided to play a little mind game with the clinic. You see, yesterday was Wednesday, the day the nurses and psychologists all get together for a long lunch and "match" donors to recipients. The donor/gc part of the clinic is also in the same location as the business office. (although, I think they may have moved...oh well, neither here nor there) So, I'm sitting here thinking, what can I bug the business office about, that will get them to discuss my case with the nurses, without actually being pushy in a "Why haven't you matched me yet?" kind of way. Request my records, that's how. Requesting one's records in an infertility clinic is the universal way of letting them know you are shopping around for another clinic. I am sure that this request will get a buzz going around there, if nothing else. I mean, I'm probably one of their best customers. Wouldn't want to lose me, right? When you add up my freeze-all cycle ($18,000+) with a FET that followed($5,000+), my fresh cycle with a transfer to a GC($25,000+), and my current plans for a dual transfer to me and a GC with donor eggs($45,000+) we're looking at more than $93,000 spent at this clinic in less than three years. And I'm not even counting the two cycles at the in-state clinic I went to first. (Now you know why I'm still driving my newly pimped-out 1992 Toyota...by the way, Maaco sucks, Safelite Auto Glass...very good)

The reality is, that I need them because I'm getting second and third opinions from a hematologist and a perinatologist regarding heparin/lovenox treatment (or lack therof) in my upcoming cycle, for the homozygous MTHFR diagnosis. It seemed strange to me, that my RE would have put me on blood thinners if my homocysteine level had come back higher than 10 but since I came in with a level of 8.8, he wasn't. Doesn't that seem borderline high, to you? It does to me. And since its not his six years of TTC or his 5th IVF or his money, I am taking his advice to get a second opinion about it. The third opinion is a little superfluous on my part (and optimistic). Since I'm moving back to the old hometown in the spring, I thought I'd get a pre-conception consult with the peri my first GC had to consult with when my RE required a "clearance" given her history of kidney stones during pregnancy. I really like the woman, (she thought my RE was overly cautious) and thought I might as well see her, too. And you never know, I could have multiples, so I'll be prepared, just in case. So, I called and finally spoke to someone who understood the concern and I'll be seen on January 11th.

Getting the hematologist appointment was a little more complicated. I tried calling the only practice in the area where I live. They require a referral, preferably from someone local. I feel a little sticky about having "free communication" between my clinic and the second opinion, so I called my local OBGYN's nurse (I love her) and explained the situation. Considering she doesn't even have the results of the thrombophilia panel (my clinic does) she got me the referral. That appointment is a week away. I'm going to miss the small town service and accomodation that I've grown accustomed to. I've gone through three nurses with this doctor in the 6+ years I've been trying and they've all been pretty great. I won't hold it against the nurse in the middle who kept forgetting that she was in the OR when my tubes were taken out and kept wishing for a "miracle" for me, or that she was hugely pregnant most of my 3rd IVF, or that she didn't know what a good IVF beta number was (she congratulated me after my first beta of 22, three years ago, it wasn't until a full two hours later when the RE's nurse called that I found out how low that was. Long enough for me to contact just about all of my immediate family, friends and D's work associates, who had been pulling for us...so naive back then. I hadn't even discovered bulletin boards, let alone blogs...)

I also wanted the business office to give me the grand total for the cycle, if we had to pay for it today. I was trying to figure out if I could swing a loan to an immediate family member until March. She graciously offered me what the cost for 2006 would be. About $5,000 more. Gee, thanks. I hadn't even considered the fact that our cost would go up AGAIN next year. South Africa is looking better and better, I tell ya. Can you really squeeze a whole DE cycle in for about $12,000? Millie, Liana? The business office is "expediting" my records since I have the appointment next week. Perhaps I'll send them along to Cape Town Fertility? Hmmm...tempting.

Today is Thursday, and I got the last donor match-up call on a Thursday evening. Keep your fingers crossed.

Stress for Success

(Note: Typepad is screwing up the paragraphs or something, I apologize for the poor editing. I wonder when they'll get their shit straightened out...)

Long time, no write. Sorry. November is a notoriously bad time for me regarding IVF. Today is the 3rd anniversary of my first egg retrieval. That cycle was the closest I've gotten. A chemical of 22 that dropped to 18. My next cycle's due date was Thanksgiving two years ago. BFN. And two years ago on November 12th I got my 3rd BFN. When you add in the inlaws and nieces and nephews, I pretty much want to crawl in a hole and hibernate.

On top of all that, Friday was sort of a perfect storm of things colliding in our lives.

I got the results of my AMH test, and as usual, my body is ambiguous. As if my fairly normal day 3 FSH (which are usually in the 7's or 8's) wasn't enough, my AMH is borderline normal. Anything over 2.0 is really good, and mine is 1.8. The nurse thought that it was good enough that my RE might let me cycle with my eggs again, but he might want a CCCT run as well. Of course, day 3 would probably fall on Thanksgiving (such is my luck) so I called the lab, before I even talked to my RE, so they'd have enough time to ship me a frozen blood kit that I could take with me for the holiday. Then I tried to schedule a phone regroup with him. After a lot of back and forth, trying to work around my orthodontist appointment yesterday, she asked me if I could do 3:30 CST that day (Friday). Well, yes! Anyway, long story short, he said that all diagnostic tests like that were indicators not predictors and we already have 4 cycles that tell us how my ovaries respond, and how my eggs fertilize. I didn't realize that all six of my eggs in June had been mature. Two fertilized normally, one made it to transfer. Plus, there is the Catch-22 of still needing a GC if we use my eggs, since the Depot Lupron will probably make a poor responder like me go into full ovarian shut-down, and I can't carry without the Lupron. And if I am cycling with my eggs, I can't be preparing to do a DE cycle, which means expired work-ups, etc. in the meantime. The mind boggles with all the minutae involved in getting any of this to work. So, long story short, back to the original plan. At least there is no Clomid Challenge to deal with. And the other good thing that came out of it, was that he sounded like he was going to light a fire under those nurses to get this ball rolling. He sounded disappointed about the brown-eyed donor match-up, too.

I also got a phone call from a friend who knew we were looking for property in our hometown. We would have to act fast because his friend was really anxious to sell. We saw the lot/house in the dark last night, when we pulled into town, and it's pretty close to perfect. A little small, 50' x100', but there is a big, beautiful park, a half block away. A small university with a coffee shop on the corner, about three blocks away. A decent elementary school, three blocks in the other direction. It's in a quaint, historic-y neighborhood and really close to highway access to D's office downtown. We are a little cash poor right now until we sell our current house and get D's bonus in March, but I think we can at least swing a small down payment. The intention is to do a tear-down, because it's in pretty bad shape, and I don't feel like renovating another shit hole. I will be pretty disappointed if it falls through.

Friday, I also got a call from a Katrina survivor from Biloxi. After a few phone conversations it looks like they will be coming on Sunday. Hopefully, it will be good Karma, all around, and we won't get burned. I will have her sign a temporary housing agreement, nonetheless. We should be able to get the mother situated in a job and find them an apartment pretty quickly. She is bringing her 14 year old son and baby grandaughter, the child of her 17 year old daughter who is staying behind to finish her senior year. Secretly, I'm kind of looking forward to having a 7 1/2 month old to help out with.

K still doesn't have her OB clearance, which should have been a simple letter, because her OB didn't want to sign off until she had a complete physical with bloodwork. (which I thought she had in August, before we even brought her out to our clinic) Well, her red blood cell count came back elevated and he wants her to see a hematologist. It never ends. I think I'll name my kids euphemisms for money and stress: "Payne," "Cash," "George," "Buck," "Penny." I've never heard the names "Greenback," or "Frazzle," but they're sounding better and better.

I guess that catches me up for a bit. I'm sure Thanksgiving will have a post of its own...

This will probably come back to bite me on the ass...or, how NOT to hedge your bets

A situation occurred on Friday. One of our "lawyers," called me on my cell phone as I was unloading groceries. I almost dropped the phone, when I realized who she was. I blurted, "Oh my God, do you have a birth mother?" I really wasn't expecting any of these "no upfront fee" lawyers to ever call. After she calmed me down a bit, she gave me the story. She had a birth mother. She wasn't due until March or April. She hadn't seen a doctor yet, so the ETA was a guess. The father wasn't in the picture. Since it was still early in the pregnancy, this would be "an expensive one, $20,000 or more." Were we prepared to spend upwards of $1,000 a month until the due date, gambling that she wouldn't change her mind? If so, she would put together information on 3 or 4 couples, including us, for the birth mother to choose from. She pulled us from her "pile" because we seemed anxious. "After all," she said, "you've already completed your home study and have a nursery set up." I told her my husband was out of town until Sunday afternoon, but that I would talk to him, and give her an answer by Monday.

So, I'm thinking to myself before I even call D, "Hmnn...March...yeah, we would probably know by then if our DE GC dual transfer IVF had worked or worked really well by then. Maybe we should just go for it, and think of the $1,000 a month as an expensive insurance premium to get a baby on the way." Sounds good in my head. Then I call D. Apparently, he was born with a morality gene that I don't possess. He is not comfortable with the idea of leading a birth mother on and then changing our mind about adopting her baby, if we have multiples on the way. And isn't that what we're trying for with this dual transfer? Plus, we can't really afford to do both, without charging the credit card back up. We either need to stop our other plans (!), or adopt and be prepared to end up with 4 or 5 infants at once (!), but backing out wasn't an option for him. I have to admit, I didn't originally think of it as leading a birth mother on, I thought of it as opening up the adoption to another couple, albeit possibly at the last minute and making that baby the center of someone's universe. Admittedly, I wasn't considering the birth mother's feelings much. I just assumed she would want her baby to go where it was most wanted.

I probably could have turned on the waterworks to get D to go along with my idea. But I decided that he was probably right and this was too big of a decision to enter into, with one partner reluctant. I think it was a little easier for me to accept, because I really have faith for the first time in a long while, that this IVF cycle will work. We agreed that we would just continue our original plan that we've already invested so much into. We will renew our home study in January, and sign up with Mr. Hot Shot Adoption Lawyer if this cycle fails. I called the lawyer a few hours ago to let her know. She said no problem, we'll just go back in the "pile." I feel like we've gone back in the "pile," too.

Please tell me we did the right thing, because I think I'm going to be sick.

(If you are wondering why we have a home study and a nursery, it is because a friend of a sister of a friend wanted to place her baby last December with someone recommended to her. We got a little excited about it and really started researching adoption laws in our state, and calling around for a lawyer to represent us. The first lawyer recommended the home study, so we got it. We did the whole nine yards, FBI background check, fingerprinting, references, home visits, interviews, applications, etc. The birth mother wound up not choosing us, because we said we planned to raise our children Catholic. Apparently, that's a "no-no," in the bible belt. She didn't come right out and say it, we had heard that she was "researching Catholicism." She finally sent us an email about 3 months later saying she chose another family, only after I admitted to my friend that I hadn't heard from her. If she only knew what fallen Catholics we really are. We only wrote it because it sounded better to us than nothing at all. The second lawyer thought she had a birth mother immediately, and started to do a match, but upon looking at our profile and house pictures, the birth mother decided our nursery was too feminine for the boy she was having, and rejected us. It was then that we sort of gave up (at least temporarily) the idea of domestic adoption to pursuit IVF with a GC, and now DE and a dual transfer, given my new diagnosis. We have a nursery because I like to shop and I'm a planner.)

A quick (hah!) recap of my week... PART-DEUX

Ok, so where did I leave off?

Monday: CD 4. Looks like it is tapering off after all. I have a cup of java at Whole Foods while waiting for D2 to show up. I realize later, that I am not supposed to be having caffeine for a month before my doppler ultrasound, but whatever, it tastes good, and isn't that all that really matters?

D2 and I shop all afternoon. I introduce her to Tuesday Morning, and she vows to do all her Christmas shopping there, from now on. I buy new bathroom accessories, Christmas ornaments and baby blankets. I take her to the same Chinese restaurant I had dim sum in the day before. The menu item isn't as good. My bad for ordering curry in a Chinese place. I confess that I bought tickets for a Frank Sinatra tribute she wanted to see for her birthday. But I need dressier clothes. I buy a dressy black tunic at Mervyn's and a black crepe broomstick skirt at Dress Barn. I go back to my aunt's.

I am lying on the couch watching news of Katrina, when I get the sensation that I've wet my pants. WTF? I go to the john, and sure enough, I've leaked blood all over my capris. Odd. Haven't had that happen in about twenty years, but I chaulk it up to the biopsy last week, and get another Ultra OB and change into my jammies. Meanwhile, I call my friend S and then D2 and casually mention to both about the leaking on CD4. They are concerned. I am not, until I soak through that tampon in about a half hour. I decide to call the after hours clinic number, and get a moron who keeps me on the line for about 10 minutes trying to figure out who to send my page to. Good thing I'm not literally bleeding to death. I lie, and tell her my cell phone is about to die, and can she just have someone call me back. I tell her I am an IVF patient, when she asks.

About 10 minutes later, a nurse calls me back. I explain the situation, and she seems concerned. Then I tell her I'm technically a GC DE patient, and she tells me she'll have one of those nurses call me back. About 10 minutes later, one of my nurses calls me. She sounds concerned, and decides to page one of the RE's. Meanwhile, I have given up tampons and I alternately walk around with a wad of TP in my pants or sit on the toilet, draining. About 10 minutes later, the RE calls. I think she is going to tell me to go to the ER or something, which I kind of whine that I don't want to do. She tells me to switch to pads, and the ER isn't necessary unless I'm soaking through a pad every 15 minutes. She wants me to go to the clinic for an ultrasound and white blood platelet count in the morning. My aunt comes home from her trip and sets me up with some of her menopausal Kotex. She is a retired nurse and is a little concerned, too. I grudgingly go to bed with the wad between my legs and only soak through two, during the night.

Tuesday:  A nurse calls the house at 7:30 to tell me to come to the clinic at 9:45 for my ultrasound. I wake up, go to the bathroom and notice about a tablespoon or two of "blood jelly," on my pad. I seem to have tapered off again. I shower, insert a tampon (I'm a rebel, and don't want "pre-appointment crust") and head out.

I have my blood drawn (which apparently includes another pregnancy test!) I am called for my ultrasound, the tech asks me if I need to use the restroom, I take the opportunity to remove my tampon, which is only streaked. Then I proceed to have my ultrasound and doppler blood flow check. There are no signs of any abnormal problems. We conclude that I probably had a clot that I passed on my own this morning. My uterus is looking so good in fact, that she asks me why I'm using a GC. This pleases me.

I report up to my RE's office and think I'm there to talk to the RE or a nurse, but they want me to drop trou for an internal exam. He feels my fibroid, and asks me how I'm feeling. I tell him the whole story from biopsy, to this morning, and that I was never in pain, just kind of freaked out. He said I did the right thing to call, better safe than sorry. He says it's unusual to have a heavier period after an endometrial biopsy, since they've actually taken some of the tissue out, but that I probably had a blood clot left over from the procedure. I concur. I tell him I'll see him tomorrow. I pick up a Doxycycline prescription on the way out of the hospital, wondering why I didn't have one last week, for the much more invasive biopsy.

I go shopping for a new suitcase to hold all of the goodies I've bought in the big city. I get a 30" pullman 50% off at J.C. Penney's. I then go back to my aunt's and lay low for the afternoon. We go to Macaroni Grill (again!) for dinner. I am barely spotting anymore. I try to read some more of Dan Brown's Angels and Demons before bed. I hate his writing style, but it's fast paced enough to keep me going. I thought The Da Vinci Code was equally annoying, so I should have known.

Wednesday:  I hang out most of the morning, checking email, reading, etc. I take a bath to really clean my bits and pieces and shave my legs. I decide to leave early for my 3:00 appointment at the clinic, so I can find a pair of dressy shoes for the show later. I discover DSW Shoe Warehouse. I find a really cute pair of dressy Coach thongs, but they don't have a size 10 and I can't justify $129 for a 9 1/2 that doesn't really fit. I find one other pair that will work and its 80% off. Hooray! I think. Not so fast, I must have expensive taste because they are, if I read the tag right, 80% off of $2000. Even if they are 80% off of $399, they would still be the most expensive shoes (by a dollar) that I've ever owned. I decide I can do better. I've watched every episode of Sex and the City, and I don't ever recall hearing of a pair of shoes that cost $2000. I mean, I'm sure they exist, but with a blue 80% off sticker on the box, in a strip mall? I decide to try Famous Footwear and find a cute pair on sale for $25. Now that's more like it. I go next door to a Ross - Dress for Less store. How is it that I've never been in one before?! I buy a new black fake fur trimmed suede coat for $59, a pair of Levi's for $5.49, a embellished tunic for $19.99 and a maternity top for D2 that was $11.99. Good thing I have that new suitcase!

I head over to the clinic. I am prepped for my hysteroscopy. I say that I've had one before, so I should be ok.  I ask my RE if he's sick of me yet, and joke that I want him to really take a good look "up there." He says he hopes that was long enough, because he's seen all he needs to see. I'm told to get dressed and head over to the conference room for a regroup.

He sits down and proceeds to tell me all about my last cycle, and whether or not he thought the Saizen was effective. I ask if he knows we're moving on to DE. He nods, yes. Then he hits me with the results of my clotting panel and biopsy, that I requested.

Not only do I have TWO (homozygous=more serious) mutations for the MTHFR clotting disorder, but I am ALSO missing the beta-3 integrins in my lining! Both problems can cause implantation failure and miscarriage. I am floored! I knew there was something else wrong with me. I've been begging for these tests for years! This is huge! And hello? Blood clots? Uh huh...

I can tell he feels like the clinic has done me some disservice, but I try not to make too big a deal out of it. Now is not the time to start burning bridges. He tells me that I will need to take Folgard to up both my folic acid (4 g daily) and my B 12 and B 6. He would like to have my homocysteine levels checked on a 12 hour fast. If they are elevated, I will have to take Heparin injections 6 weeks prior to IVF, during pregnancy, and 6 weeks post partum. I tell him I would like to come back in the morning to have that run before I leave town. He also tells me that I will be taking three Depot Lupron shots 28 days apart before the cycle, to hopefully, temporarily, restore the missing integrins. I am so excited to be a little less unexplained. He asks if I've ever been diagnosed with endometriosis, and I (again!) tell him yes, a mild case, by laparoscopy 5 years ago. Has anyone there, ever bothered to read my chart? I'm starting to get a little pissed. He sends a nurse in, and I let her know, that I know, they dropped the ball with me on my other two cycles there. I get some idea of when I should start the Lupron, etc., which is kind of hard, since we haven't been matched with a donor, yet. She says they can keep the donor waiting in the wings on BCP's while I finish my treatment.

I head back to my aunt's kind of floating. Pissed and relieved at the same time, if there is such a thing. I try to call D and my friends but have trouble reaching anyone. Finally, one by one, I start telling everyone. D is pissed, too, and thinks we deserve a refund.

D2 picks me up for dinner and the Frank Sinatra show. I order a rack of lamb and they send out a rack with 8(!) chops. We have dessert to celebrate our September birthdays, and head to the theater. The show is a little Broadway for my taste, with women singing Sinatra and dance numbers, but when one guy sings "My Way," I suspend my disbelief, and tear up a little. They also play our wedding song, "The Way You Look Tonight." My mind is racing all the way home and I have trouble sleeping, so I pack. Finally, I take a Doxy, a pre-natal and two Tylenol PM, and fall asleep at about 1:30 a.m.

Thursday: I wake up at 6:30, get a shower and rush to the clinic. I realize that they never gave me the mammagram order I needed for K and that they never ran my communicables. My favorite phlebotomist decides to get to the bottom of it for me. My nurse tells her I'm "current," from June, so she doesn't run them. I go up to the DE GC office and aks for the mammagram order. My nurse gives it to me, and I ask why they wouldn't just re-run my communicables while I'm here so they'd be good for 6 more months, not just 4. She tells me they are blood and swab cultures now, and I can do them if I really want to. I am already running late and decide that maybe she's hinting that I'll be matched with a donor within 4 months and I really don't feel like dropping trou for the third time this week to be diddled with again. So I say a fond farewell and get out of there.

I pick up some coffees at a drive-thru espresso stand, fill up the tank ($3.29 gallon!) and stop at my friend A's on the way to my aunt's to say good-bye. We drink our coffee, watch the horror of Katrina on the Today show, think of ways we can help, coo over her 1 year-old, and bitch about our clinic, the number #1 clinic in the country. A used DS to conceive her son, and is thinking of cycling again in the new year. I stay about 30 minutes and head the 8 blocks over to my aunt's.

I load up the rental car, and say my goodbye's. My aunt tells me that my cousin, his girlfriend and her mother and all of their 3 dogs and 5 cats made it out of New Orleans on Saturday and are holed up in a hotel in Houston. Before I leave, I call my uncle and tell him they can stay at our house if its any more convenient. It's at least free. He thinks my cousin is going to try and drive back to check out the damage to their houses. We all hope that he doesn't.

I get the rental back to the airport, and a Cranberries song comes on reminding me to take this CD  out of the player. (I've lost so many CD's in rental cars!) My friend S sent this to me, and I love it. The singer had struggled with infertility and miscarriage and the lyrics are poignant. Plus some of the profits go to charity. Anyway, I get on the shuttle, find my terminal and gate, grab an Egg Mcmuffin at 10:28, right before they switch to lunch, and make my flight to Dallas on time. From Dallas I catch my connection and make it to our airport by 4:45. D has left the Honda in long term parking after grabbing his own rental to take on a business trip. Unfortunately, this is the 2nd time he has forgotten to leave the parking ticket. I angrily call his cell and he finds it in his wallet, and gives me the date, time and reference number. I hope this is enough to appease the parking nazi attendant. It is, but I'm still embarrassed. I go to Linens-N-Things and Tuesday Morning on the way home and buy some towels. I get them home and nothing I've bought matches my bathroom. I decide to take everything back the next day.

My cats are home. They've been staying at my brother's since Easter, since we were supposed to put the house on the market and move to Switzerland. I'm glad to see them. I call all my girl cousins of child bearing age on my mom's side of the family and tell them about my hereditary "issues." D gets home with the dogs at about 10:00. I'm really glad to see them too.

Friday: D works from home. I google the hell out of MTHFR, and think I might have skewed my results with the pre-natal I took when I should have been fasting. Midday, we take his rental car back to the airport. I follow him in the Honda. He stops to fill it up and we watch in disgust as a couple in a big 4 x 4 fill their tank AND about 10, five-gallon gas jugs. It's that kind of hoarding that is causing shortages and gouging across the country. Didn't anyone ever watch It's a Wonderful Life? You don't make a run on the Building and Loan. We talk about New Orleans and go to our favorite "hole-in-the-wall," Cajun restaurant for dinner, and have some Abita "Purple Haze," to "help" the Louisiana economy in our own way. The owners have family in Lake Charles, but everyone is safe. We all agree to say a rosary and a few extra hail mary's for the hoarders in the country and the poor people in Louisiana, Alabama, and Mississippi. D and I decide what we can afford to donate. We go home and watch a Netflix DVD, Sin City. Violent, but I like it, for the artistic value. Freaky, though.

Saturday: It's 3:00 and I still haven't showered. It's pouring here, and we're getting ready to watch another DVD, Suspect Zero. I haven't heard back on the homocysteine level, yet. K should be able to get her mammagram soon, and start her mock cycle.

Things should be pretty calm for awhile, now. D's out of town for 7 days next week. (sigh)
 

A quick (hah!) recap of my week...

Monday: Flew out to clinic with only a short lay over. Friend D2 picked me up at the airport. Noticed that I had a sore throat. Chalked it up to the altitude.

Tuesday: Full blown sore throat. Try to hide it, and not touch anything, so 20 weeks pregnant, D2 doesn't catch my "cold of death." While on the way to the clinic for my clotting panel and endometrial biopsy, I get a call on my cell from the clinic. They would like to squeeze in a last minute psych consult, because they think I'm crazy to want to attempt donor egg with a dual transfer to a GC and myself (paraphrased). I tell them, that it's kind of hard for me to schedule it at the last minute like that, since I'm at the mercy of my friend for a ride, and we have to pick up her daughter from the babysitter after my biopsy and blood work. They ask when I'm leaving town, and schedule me for 11:30 on Thursday, even though I have lunch plans with two of my friends. Luckily they are patients there, and know all about the rigamarole.

I get to the clinic, and the receptionist can't figure out what blood work I am there for. My name is repeatedly called and I am repeatedly asked to sit back down. Finally, I am given my sign-in slip, and told to take it across the hall. Scrawled in the corner is "pre-pregnancy test." I go across the hall, and put my unofficial-looking "lab slip," in the wall pocket. My favorite phlebotomist calls my name, and while she's strapping my arm, I lightheartedly tell her to make sure she doesn't run any communicables, because I'm coming back in two weeks to have those run, and I want them to be good for a full 6 months. I also tell her I'm only here for the clotting panel. She decides to call my nurse, since she doesn't have any orders for the clotting panel. They say it must have been overlooked, because I requested the test. I fume that it is a good thing I said something, because a rookie might not have caught the mistake and flown home thinking her test was being run. They proceed to draw 8!vials of blood (including a pregnancy test, as if they didn't remember that my tubes have been removed) and she says she hopes I had a big breakfast. I only had OJ for breakfast, because I was a little nauseous from the post-nasal drip caused by the aforementioned "cold of death." She kindly gets me 4 packs of Club crackers and a bottle of apple juice.

D2 accompanies me upstairs for the biopsy. I ask her to go in with me, because I like a 2nd set of ears, whenever dealing with the RE or any nurses. She holds my hand, I brace myself, and it is no worse than a pap. She did tell me it looked kind of gross to see this reddish worm-like tissue go into the specimum vial. I strap on my diaper maxi-pad, down my 800 mg of ibuprofen, and get the hell out of there. I spot the rest of the day.

That night D2 and I took her son to his hockey game.

Wednesday: A blur. I was a little feverish. No spotting.

Thursday: Still sick, but hiding it well. D2, her 1 year old and I drive the 40 or so miles to the clinic. The baby is asleep in the car, and I tell her I don't think it will be long, maybe she should just wait in the car and let her sleep. I am 10 minutes early, and the psychologist is a half hour late. We finally sit down, and she re-iterates that I must be crazy to want to do this. We conference D in on the conversation, and he backs me up. She eventually says she's not going to say "no," to us. Damn right, bee-yatch!

Lunch at Macaroni grill with D2 and our friend A plus both their one year-olds. A and I have wine. Sorry D2!

D2 takes me to the airport where I pick up a rental, so I can pick K and her partner C up later that night at same airport. I go to my aunt's house in town, where I plan to stay two nights for the convenience.

K and C fly stand-by and catch an earlier flight. They are not bringing their two children under two. I am relieved. I pick them up on time and take them out for a quick Thai dinner. I deposit them at their friend G's house, very near my aunt's. G is coincidentally having her beta drawn at the clinic in the morning. It's a very popular clinic! I crash at my aunt's after downing some Tylenol P.M. I am spotting again.

Friday: I get to G's house at 7:30 to pick up K and C. We have half caf and talk about G's losses. She had IVF boy-boy twins 4 years ago, and one twin died at 6 weeks of meningitis. She then had a late term miscarriage for her 2nd IVF. This is her last, and she has been having positive hpt's since Tuesday.

We get to the clinic on time, and I ask to get K started on her psych tests (the nurse's suggestion) since they are trying to catch a 6:05 flight. They proceed to do the other parts of her work-up and she doesn't get started on the tests until 11:30.

Meanwhile, I am no longer spotting, this is the real thing, just two days early. Bring on the tampons. I do some quick thinking and ask the nurse if I can just stay in town until CD 6 (Wednesday) for my one-day work-up. They juggle some stuff and get me scheduled. I call D, explain the situation and the potential savings of 25,000 frequent flyer miles, and he gets my flight changed from Saturday morning to next Thursday morning. He will miss me, as this was to be our last sane summer weekend before football season starts. By the way, this was all possible because my RE over-ruled my nurse and said that I didn't need a mock cycle, after all, since I had just cycled two months ago. An additional savings of $800 plus hassles.

So back to K. I go with her to her ultrasound, and see a textbook beautiful uterus. No fibroids! And good doppler bloodflow, too. Her hysteroscopy goes equally well. We meet with my RE and he gives us the rundown of risks involved. Meanwhile, she finishes her test, and I ask about the other test she's supposed to do. Everyone is clueless, and they insist, that's it. We are ecstatic, because it's only 3:30, when in walks the psychologist, with the PIA test. Another 300 questions and less than an hour to complete it, if we're to make that flight. K scribbles away, and we are out of there by 4:15. I cross my fingers and take a "short cut," to the airport. It pays off, when I get them there by 5:00. They make their flight. I go back to my aunt's, take more Tylenol P.M. and a Zyrtec and crash.

Saturday: I wake up from the deepest sleep. My cold seems to be gone, with only a pounding headache in its wake. I pop a few ES Exedrin in lew of coffee. My aunt goes away for a few days leaving me alone in the house. I shop a little and wind up watching Liz Taylor's Cleopatra, once again, catching it in the middle and falling asleep before it ends. Will I never watch the whole thing straight through? I took a few Tylenol P.M. for good measure.

Sunday: Horrible night's sleep. Aunt's dogs and cats kept me up all night. Showered, dressed and went out for dim sum with friend A and her husband. Her sister and BIL came along too. Yummy. Shopped all day. The only thing I bought was a Mac compatible video game for D's Christmas stocking at the Apple store. CD 3 and still bleeding like a stuck pig. Wondering if it's normal. Came back and starting blogging.

I'm sure this week will be equally hectic. Staying at my aunt's the rest of the week. Just keeping my fingers crossed that K and I are both cleared.

Takin' care of business...

I know, I know...two weeks without an entry. My only excuse is that I have been INSANELY busy and stressed out. Oh, and my Mac was in the shop for 1 1/2 weeks, so a little hard with the DH out of town with his laptop.

After much applying, credit checking, and appraising, we went with our third bank application and got a pretty sweet, fixed for 5 years, 6.99% home equity line of credit, with a special intro rate of 0% until January 1st. It was pretty fun telling two loan officers that we wound up going with a better offer, where our appraisal was used. It was a full $37,000 more than the wimpy ones they had done. Take that money grubbers! Anyway, I am so excited about the potential cash flow increase around here. We have enough to consolidate our debt and enough to pay for our next cycle. Wooo!

Tomorrow, I fly out to my clinic for my E-tegrity biopsy and clotting panel blood work. My appointment is on Tuesday morning, but I'll be staying at my friend D's again until Saturday morning. I decided to stay longer, because, after looking at our calendars, the stars sort of fell into alignment, and K and C can both come out to the clinic on Friday, the 26th, to do their work-ups and psych consults. I will be able to pick them up at the airport and drive them to and from their appointments. And babysit if needed.

Unfortunately, as usual there had to be a wrench thrown into our plans. My nurse left a message on my CELL! phone Thursday, that I didn't retrieve until 8:45 that night. Apparently, the RE (not mine) who looked over her OB records had some concerns about her health. She was anemic last year, so they want a Chem 22 and CVS panel run on her. She thinks this was done at her annual on Monday. The are also still concerned about her use of Paxil. Her GP thinks this is a non-issue, because she is on about 5 mcg, which is basically a placebo she doesn't even have to wean off of. And third, before she even got pregnant, her OB-GYN found a few fibroids. We aren't even sure if they're in the lining or on the uterus, but an ultrasound and hysteroscopy will tell. D thought that we shouldn't even ask her if she would have surgery, but K offered. Frankly, I don't think surgery is in order if they are in the uterus, anyway. A D & C-type procedure can be done on an out-patient basis. Fibroids are rarely removed surgically, unless they are affecting the blood flow to the uterus, or are causing unbearable symptoms. My RE thinks that removing outer fibroids can actually adversely affect the blood flow to the uterus and cause more harm than good when trying to get pregnant.

I guess the gist of the message was that they were trying to save everyone the trouble of flying out  there if she was going to need more tests and procedures anyway, or maybe they think that uteruses are falling off trees around here or something.

My OB-GYN pronounced me a well woman after my annual, Tuesday. He thinks my endo may have been nipped in the bud if his theory that endo is caused by a reflux action though the tubes is correct. I had my tubes removed in August of '02, so no place to go anymore. I also had my thyroid panel and Chem 22 panel done.

I'm sure in the last two weeks I had more to blog about, but the fleeting thoughts are gone now. I'll try to post updates while I'm out of town.