Tag Archives: 2ww
I spent all day yesterday remembering, but now knowing what to say. I remember. I can never forget. Little things remind me no matter how hard I try to ignore them. Pictures of my own baby can not be viewed without thinking of the baby that came after him. Would they have looked the same? Acted the same? Or completely different. How was I so blessed to have one so perfect, although a bit of a hand full at times … followed by two who tried to kill me, literally, and one who wouldn’t leave my womb long after it’s tiny heart had stopped beating. What was wrong with those two? What is wrong with me?
One of my biggest regrets? Missing so much of Monkey’s childhood as I tried, and failed, repeatedly, to give him a sibling. Days of bed rest instead of days at the zoo. Days of morning instead of days of enjoying what I have.
Today is 7dp6dt. 13 days passed ovulation. I have been plagued with heartburn the last couple days. And heart palpitations. And the occasional dizziness. And sore boobs. And lots of nausea. And a crazy appetite.And peeing ALL the fucking time. I even had the tell tale change of scent in my lady city, and speaking of scent – I can smell my fridge from here every times it’s opened.
With shaking hands I pee’d on a first response. I snapped on the lid and set it upside down on the bathroom floor. I finished peeing and left to get a good luck sniff of Monkey.
I stared at the bathroom door.
I stared at the little stick.
I reminded myself that I would much rather get a BFN then have another miscarriage.
I reminded myself that I have one fabulous Monkey (who I really wish would nap again.)
I reminded myself that it was only 7dpt and that it was afternoon pee.
Manny, Moe and Curly are on board.Manny and Moe are perfect hatching 6 day blasts. Curly is, as the RE put it, still catching up.
And now we wait. Although I’m pretty sure I’ve already gassed them with my lethal progesterone gas. Good lord. It’s always bad, but this time it really, truly is lethal. So glad the Mr is out of town.
All three defrosted beautifully. The embryologist, a hot french woman came in after the transfer to give me a picture of the embryos and said that Manny and Moe were expanded when frozen, but began hatching immediately upon defrost. This is a very good sign.
I’m torn between wanting to enjoy the illusion that I’m pregnant, and not wanting to think about it at all so that I’m not heartbroken when it doesn’t work.
Tomorrow I turn 43. And, unless something big happens in the next couple of hours, I will not have discovered the real answer to life, the universe and everything. I feel completely let down by Douglas Adams.
Tomorrow I also start my ovulation predictor kits for this final cycle. That’s not totally true. Because I’m a POAS addict, I pee’d on one today.
I am not ovulating.
Hopefully, I will get a positive this weekend and everything will move forward as planned. A BFP in a couple weeks would be grand. But seriously, at this point, I’m just ready to be done.
Which totally means I will get a BFP and probably go through the long drawn out hell that will result in a miscarriage just like last time. My body seems to be rather insistent on reaping maximum heart break from this whole process.
Really wish I felt more positive going into this. I know bringing home a baby is a possibility. But so is winning the lottery.
I laid in bed for twenty minutes after my bladder woke me. I debated just waiting until tomorrow for the beta to know the answer.
I just needed to end the suspense though.
And so I did.
You have never seen a pee stick so white.
Or maybe you have, and for that I’m sorry.
I laid in bed cuddling with Monkey afterwards for several hours. One of the bonuses of getting up at 5am, and having a pool party hung the fuck over toddler. I think after every BFN, I realize even more what a miracle he is. I’m going to be co-sleeping with him until he’s in high school. I’ll be the crazy mom staring at him while he sleeps when he comes home from college.
This cycle went swimmingly. I prepped my body for three months before transfer. No sugar, caffeine or booze. Mostly all organic. Hard core sumpliments and gym and meditation.
So, tomorrow was supposed to be beta, but being 4th of July, my local lab is closed. I can travel an hour into the city and pay for our RE to do it, but since the in one of the very few things our insurance will pay, paltry as it is, we are waiting till Tuesday to get our beta. Since I pee’d on a stick last night (9dp3dt) and it was snow white, I don’t hold out much hope. I know, it was too early, and not first morning pee…. but I haven’t felt all the symptoms I did with Monkey, my boobs are no longer all that sore, I have had insomnia, instead of the dead to the world intense tiredness I had with Monkey almost immediately, I’m nauseous and can smell everything, but I have had that since I started the darling Pussy Paste.
Whatever. We have 5 snow babies. I’ll transfer them all in September. I’d transfer them sooner, but I have travel plans that would interfere in July and August.
It is the 7th day of my captivity. My captors say they will let me out early next week, but I’ve dealt with them before and I know, that’s bullshit.
I have two cell mates.
A small clingy one that can smell the fear in the air and it freaks him the fuck out. He has decided that the only way he can sleep is with one arm wrapped around my neck. Tightly. Every time I wake to pee, he wakes, and then by the time I get him back to sleep, I’ve remembered why he is back in our bed. I remember the prison. And then? I can’t go back to sleep.
There is a larger cell mate. He looks familiar. Like a man I used to date. We wavers between offering his support and reminding me that I was the one who landed us all here. He is fine with the prison, but irate that it bills out at the same rate as a resort. He spends most of his days running his tin cup back and forth over the bars of our cell demanding they lower the rates.
I have nausea something fierce.
I have indigestion.
I have HUGE sore boobs.
I have smell-o-vision.
I went to dinner last night (a real GROWN up dinner with real GROWN up conversation!) and could barely eat because I was so queasy. I took a sip of wine (after a toast. I had to!) and it instantly gave me heart burn.
I’ve been pregnant before. Several times. And these are all the same symptoms.
I still have a white as the driven snow spot where I should have that second line. I’m tempted to show up and make them give me my beta so I can end the Fake Fucking Morning Sickness and the “maybe the test (The two batches of tests. From two different stores. It could [never] happen!)was wrong” that’s floating around in my head.
Beta tomorrow and then a thankful release from this progesterone hell. Time to start healing and losing some of this mother fucking IVF weight.
With beta growing near, and the daily POAS ritual already begun, I am analyzing every twinge, thought, smell and sensation. Would I normally smell that coffee so intensely? Were my boobs this sore from the PIO last cycle? Am I just tired from the PIO? The stress? Someone moving in? Where are the cramps? Last cycle I had horrible cramps the entire 2ww…. and then got a BFN. This cycle? A couple twinges. Now? Nothing. Why so thirsty? Why so dizzy? Why the heartburn? Why the intense need for cottage cheese? Surely these can’t all be from the PIO… but of course they can. And? It’s much to early to have any real pregnancy symptoms.
So far those evil lil sticks have been white as the pure driven snow. Well. The pee’d in snow. I’m getting nervous that they will never offer up that second pink line.
Wholy Crap. The time between egg retrieval and your first beta (blood pregnancy test for those who fuck for sport) is referred to as The Two Week (#&%@) Wait. During this time your body is controlled by a fine mix of hormones that you inject into your ass every evening which makes you feel, like yes, you may be pregnant.
You aren’t allowed to do the things you usually do to distract yourself like masturbate, or drink, or… well… drink… or, you know, exercise (Just kidding. Drink.) You do nothing but focus on trying to distract yourself from the fact that in a mere two weeks (Eight days now!) you may find out that you are one step closer to achieving your fondest wish, or? having those wishes dashed on the crimson shores of Lake I”MNOTPMSingLEAVEMETHEFUCKALONE.