Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock.

I've come so far.
Mr. T has come so far.
Our families and friends have joined us on the roller coaster.
Did you know my mom hates roller coasters, yet she's been on this ride with us too?

Thank you again for all the comments, emails, texts and facebook messages. They are all filling my heart and have made the past 48 hours bearable.

I am hoping. I am praying.

Tomorrow can't come fast enough.

72 hours to go.

After 13 months it is crazy to think that we may get a final answer on adding to our family in less than 72 hours. I am still a bit crazy (OK- a LOT) but I'm trying to hang on to sanity. My biggest coping skill this week was staying super-busy. By staying on the go, I haven't had too much time to focus on symptoms and whether or not I was or was not feeling anything. I am having a really hard time staying positive, but am grateful for those around me who are. I am living vicariously through them in their positivity. I remain neutral but hopeful.

As Beta-Day approaches, I've realized that I've gotten myself in a little bind. Mr. T and I have decided to be fairly upfront with our struggles with infertility. We have shared and you all have read, step by step where we are. I don't regret our decision to go public for a second. I have found a level of support in the blogging community that I never knew existed. I have also found, that by keeping our family and friends in the loop, our ties have gotten stronger, relationships have grown and I feel closer to many more people. With all that said, I'm not sure how we'll share our news on Sunday. Either way, there will be so many emotions..... 

So if I duck out for a while, don't assume the worst.  

Don't Ignore

My husband.

Don't Ignore,

Your friend. Your son. Your brother. Your cousin. Your uncle.

Don't Ignore,

The other half of infertility.

Day after day we (the identified patient), go to our doctor's appointments. We get our blood drawn. We have an ultrasound. We wait for our follow up call and we obsess about what we ate. What we didn't eat. If we took our medicine correctly. If we are keeping our stress level down. We will obsess over lab results and spend an inordinate amount of time on the Internet reading anything we can find about these lab results, our treatment plan, success stories and painful stories.

In this revolving door of doctor's appointments, our other half often gets overlooked.

It is not intentional and it is not on purpose. But it happens and it adds another level of hurt to this already emotionally draining situation. My husband has seen more than anyone should see in their pursuit to have a child. I'd say that our journey deep into the world of infertility treatments has been more emotionally taxing on him than on me. Why? Because he has been impacted first hand and then had to quickly gather himself to pick me up as a I crumble. He has had to stifle his tears in order to take care of our son, because it was apparent that I could not pull myself together. I would also venture to say that he has suppressed his needs so that my path is smoother. And over time, it would begin to seem that he has it all pulled together and the conversation then shifts back to how I (the identified patient) is doing. All the while, my husband has been just as emotionally impacted as I and 'just deals.'

I often talk about the feeling of losing control. I believe this is also true for our spouses or partners. But again, they are one step further out of the loop. But when asked to be a part of the solution, my husband's role was carried out in a sterile room with some cheesy porn loop playing on an old TV. Talk about being marginalized. Talk about taking on a supporting role. Roles are important. They define us and right or wrong, many men view themselves as the problem solver. The protector. The person that makes things happen. What I've learned with infertility is that there may never be a solution. No one person has the ability to fix the problem and all the money in the world may not make things happen. I can only imagine how frustrating this is to the other half of infertility. 

I'm quite sure if you asked my husband his thoughts on this process he would tell you that he would trade places in a second. How am I sure? Because he's said so.

I can tell you this. There is no one else in this world who could have walked this road with me. There is no other person I could love enough to want even go down this path. I cannot will us to have a successful outcome, but I can ask you all to please not ignore my husband. This hurts him just as much as it hurts me. 

The Don't Ignore blog post theme has been organized by RESOLVE with a goal to increase the conversation about infertility and to inform the public that: 

• Infertility is a disease that affects 1 in 8 couples of reproductive age
• There are many ways to build a family 
• Help reduce the stigma by bringing attention to the details/issues/costs surrounding all ways people diagnosed with infertility can build a family.
• Understand when to seek the help of a specialist

For more information on infertility or to learn about National Infertility Awareness Week, please visit either link.

• http://www.resolve.org/infertility101  (Basic understanding of the disease of infertility.)
• http://www.resolve.org/national-infertility-awareness-week/about.html (About NIAW)

If you need me, I've moved to Crazytown.

I thought Clomid was challenging... 

This two week wait business is enough to drive the sane, mad.

The amount of scholarly ridiculous research I've done on Dr. Google, MD, is embarrassing.

But in all seriousness, What's a girl supposed to do?

In the days following my egg retrieval, I felt calm. When we learned that all 3 fertilized, I felt relieved. I thought that we had a chance of beating the odds and getting a fair crack at pregnancy. Then we actually got the chance to do a pros/cons on embryo transfer and I was dumbfounded. I started to feel numb but grateful.  Relieved that we had crossed so many hurdles and maybe just a little excited for the future. But now, I am all over the emotional map. 

In the last two weeks I have been at my doctor's office 8 times. There were almost daily check-in's. I was doing something EVERY.SINGLE.DAY to promote pregnancy. Injections. Accupuncture. Supplements. Bed Rest. After this morning's blood work, I will not go back for another 7 days. And aside of 1 more accupuncture session and some supplements, there is nothing more to do. But wait. 

That is way too much time for my mind to wander. It leaves me entirely too much downtime to obsess over everything.  

Let me share all the thoughts I had while taking 15 minutes to prepare lunch today:

My stomach hurt, Was that pain from implantation?

How did I feel the week before I found out about being pregnant with Toddler T?

I wanted Chex-Mix and a Coke for lunch.

Do I want that today?

Oh, maybe I do, because my brain is psyching myself out.

What if this works?

What if it doesn't?

Is it time to say, When?

My progesterone level is 19. My Estrogen level is 204. 

Is that good?

(Runs to Internet... crap- why are other girls reporting higher numbers)

Are higher numbers better?

Should I switch to decaf?

This is going to work.

It might not.

I can beat the odds.

The odds are insurmountable.

Should I be thinking about names?

Did I loan my bouncy seat to anyone?

I think I should get things together for the consignment shop.

Hmmm, what would my due date be?

Back to the Internet to plug in due date based on 3 day transfer.

I am halfway until the finish line of this race and I'm not sure I am going to make it.  On the one hand, I so want to act like there is no reason to think that I will not get good news. On the other, I'm afraid of the hurt if invest too much time in imaging a pregnancy that never comes to be. Right now, it feels safe to follow up every positive pregnancy thought with a grim statistic. That is the rationale that lands a girl in Crazytown. 

Please feel free to share your tips for getting through this two week wait or any of the irrational thoughts that may have popped into your brain during this time.

Step Aside Modern Medicine... It's Nature's Turn

I am home resting in my bed.

My phone is to my left and my laptop on well, my lap.

My mom is downstairs and Toddler T is napping.

I had two acupuncture sessions today. One before transfer. One After.

Mr. T and I were in a position to make a choice about how many embryo(s) to transfer and made a decision that were are comfortable with.

Aside of Crinone, supplements and my pre-natal vitamin,  there is no more medical intervention from this point forward.

Today and tomorrow I will rest and allow nature to step in.

I am feeling relieved.

I am hoping that the next 2 weeks go by quickly.

'Twas the Night Before Transfer

I'm pretty sure I won't have visions of sugar plums dancing in my head.

I'm pretty sure it will be a repeat of Saturday Night. 

Maybe I should have another big glass of wine?

I mean, isn't pretty common for conception to occur with the assistance of wine?

It feels surreal to be sitting here with a transfer scheduled for tomorrow morning. At times, it is inconceivable (no pun intended) to think about how many twists and turns this trip took.  Our journey into the world of secondary infertility started innocently enough at a friends' wedding weekend. There were so many special things about that weekend. It was Mr. T's birthday. It was one of his best friends getting married. I love his bride. It was held in the city where Mr. T and I lived, dated and got married. It was sort of a homecoming weekend. All of that,  and we were ready to expand our family. It seemed so fitting. So special.

15 months ago, we were so innocent. We weren't jaded, hurt and overhwelmed. We had no idea about ectopic pregnancies and AMH/FSH levels.  I had only had routine blood work once or twice in my life and had never once had an internal ultrasound.  I believed that we would be successful in the same manner in which we were with Toddler T.  I had no way of knowing the depths of soul searching I would do. The hurt I would feel. The disdain I'd feel for my body and the feeling of a total loss of control. 

So, I sit here on my couch. Toddler T is asleep in his bed and Mr. T is out at a dinner for work. I am responding to all the good luck text messages I had received since yesterday. (I picked the WORST time to drop my phone into a glass of iced tea yesterday. And for the record, putting it in a zip-lock bag with rice does work.) I am struggling with what I want to say and how I want my words to come across. This is a terrifyingly exciting feeling to be having. Terrifying, because, there is a chance this doesn't work. Exciting, because it could.  

Over the past 13 months, I have often said that my problem isn't getting pregnant. It's getting pregnant in the RIGHT spot. I have since learned that I had a few more issues than that. But tomorrow, I will have surpassed those issues. Yes. I'm a poor responder. But dammit I made some eggs and they even fertilized and started to divide. Yes. I have undetectable AMH and a high FSH. But I'm also only 34. Tomorrow that is in the past. Tomorrow I am asking my body to do what I BELIEVE it can do. Support an intrauterine pregnancy. It is time to put my money where my mouth is.

I grow babies well. Toddler T was born at 41 weeks and 9 pounds 1 oz. 

I can do this part. I know I can. I just needed the chance.

Fertilization Report

Last night, I tried to stay up late. My thought was that, since I had slept the day away, it would be better to force myself to stay up later in the hopes of sleeping through the night. My theory could not have been anymore flawed. I hardly slept. The variable I wasn't counting on, was the fact that it was 88 degrees yesterday and I still had my down comforter on my bed. Yes, that was it. I couldn't sleep because I was hot. I'm sure it had NOTHING to do with the fact that I was having a recurring nightmare all.night.long. 

The phone rings.

I answer it.

A male voice says,

ZERO

Fertilized.

The line goes dead.

Over and over and over through the night. It was like I was starring in my own horror movie.

Fortunately for me, that was a nightmare and the reality was very different.

My phone rang at 8:50 am.

My mom quickly occupied Toddler T.

I answered it.

A male voice says, "Hi, this is Matt. I'm one of the embryologists. I just wanted to tell you that 

ALL THREE EGGS FERTILIZED.

I repeated back what I heard

My mom came over an hugged me.

I was in shock.

I called Mr. T

I heard the relief in his voice.

I felt relief in my bones.

My mom, Toddler T and I packed up for a trip to the library, a picnic in the park and then a quick splash in the creek.

The T Family made it through one more hoop. I pray that the embryos keep growing. I pray that they make it to transfer day. (Tentatively scheduled for Wednesday).  

Strangely enough, I still have a sense of calm. I do not know what the future brings us, but the feeling of dread is lifting.