The Shape of Things to Come

Today I had my “group” consultation with the IVF Nurse. The best part was there was no group, just little old me and my notepad.

Which was pretty nice. Nurse B and I go way back to the beginning of this hell called Recurrent Pregnancy Loss, and I admire her honesty and genuine feedback.

Today marks CD1, or what we are calling the TEST cycle to precede the real start of my IVF cycle. I had a blood draw for some basic stuff (prerequisites, if you will), a CBC, and some immune tests to ensure I am ‘clean’ for a go. S. has his blood draw tomorrow for a shorter list of stuff. Plus, a script for both S. and I for some antibiotics.

I feel like we are astronauts preparing for a space shuttle departure.

I have a pelvic evaluation next Tuesday and a sonohysterography with Dr. Nerd so he can ensure my uterus is still in good shape. Hopefully not as painful as the HSG I had last year.

After that, I will get the go/no go for my cycle start. Which should be around the first couple days of July. Then onto BCP’s for a predetermined time, and the real fun…. stims.

For shits and giggles because I am (ahem, old), I mean, 40, I will start on a special cocktail of Gonal-F and Menopur for the stims.

And so on.

I’ll stop there because I am getting winded thinking about it. Basically, my calendar for the summer is cleared.

Nurse B and I chatted about the last miscarriage (she was in the room when I had the 6w u/s, when we saw that little heart beating), and she shook her head reading my chart since that day… commenting how good everything had looked back then (great betas! great progesterone!) until that fateful u/s where the heart stopped beating. Just bad luck rearing its ugly head again.

“It’s time for some good luck!” she said as she closed the file and we parted ways.

Yep, Amen to that.

The train is leaving the station

Since I will be talking about my upcoming IVF cycle at length, I decided I should create aliases for my RE’s.

I hereby pronounce the formerly named Dr. V to be Dr. Nerd, and his accomplice (formerly Dr. P) will now be known as Dr. No. There are 2 other doctors in the practice I go to.. but 90% of my appointments are with Dr. Nerd and Dr. No.

I should explain.

Dr. Nerd reminds me of the guy from the Revenge of the Nerds movies, the skinny dude with dark hair and glasses. You see, Dr. Nerd is a pretty nerdy doctor. He’s got the education and the credentials out the wazoo. Always has his nose in his work 24/7. Softspoken but laser focused. He’s the kind of doctor that when you try to joke around with him he has that nervous laugh. Drives me nuts.

During the drama of miscarriage #4 last year (remember? the natural/medicated m/c and the hCG drama?) he called me so much to check in on me I asked him one day if “he added me to his fave five” (as in cellular phone). He *almost* laughed out loud (giggled really, which is a stretch for him). My husband cracked up when I told him about that conversation. I imagine that outside his office, Dr. Nerd is a nerd in real life too. In fact, I am sure of it.

Dr. No… as in, the villain from the Bond movies who was a bit of a mad scientist. Dr. No has a little of that in him… he’s into a little experimentation to get to the issues, which I like. But he’s brash and the older dude of the practice, so he’s probably just annoyed that he works along side of younger punk doctors. I kid, I kid. Dr. No is a get ‘r done kind of doctor. When the other doctors had problems threading the catheter for my HSG last year, he tackled my cervix issue like it was no big deal. No patient is too difficult for Dr. No.

So, moving on… yes, I went to my RE consult. I met with Dr. Nerd yesterday and we talked about how I am the Queen of Bad Luck.

No, really…..?

Then we talked about my age. Oh, it was wine and roses in January, when I was still the tender age of 39. In February, when I hit 40 I guess I aged 10 years in the infertility realm. Because Dr. Nerd was quick to whip out the IVF statistics for the age range 0f 40-45. Which, as most of you know is bleak. And then I protested, insisting I’m barely 40! why must you group me in with a 45 year old?? He asked me if I looked on the SART website at the stats for their practice…. and I was like HELLO?? are you kidding? Been there a trillion times. Then he nervously giggled and said, well, the good news is that age is your only *known* barrier at the moment.

ummmm, and the bad luck with the five miscarriages… how about that Dr. Nerd? (he only counts four since my second was a chemical, a mere blip of pregnancy).

Then we talked FSH. The good news is I’ve had 5 FSH/Estradiol (Day Three) draws in the last year, and the highest FSH was an 8. Mostly 6 and 7. But, of course these are not accurate because they vary greatly. So I wonder why we are put thru this torture test of bloodwork if it can be wrong, wrong, wrong a lot of the time?

FSH in normal range means I have lots of eggs left. They may be all bad, but hey, I’ll take what I can get.

Next point of goodness is I am a pretty normal cycle girl. 28-30 days, still ovulating on my own regularly. Apparently they don’t see many of my type, perfect inside/outside on paper but unable to birth a second child. Go figure.

We went over my history (again) for the millionth time), and decided that since I am almost at my insurance out-of-pocket deductible for the year, we may as well use it up to get to 100% coverage. It doesn’t do a damn thing for the cost of the meds, but at least I’ll save some money.

Protocol: We’re going with the generic “antagonist protocol”. A shot of a couple days of BCP’s, hopefully still using my leftover (paid for) Gonal-F to stim, and the egg police, Ganirilex. Icing on the cake? My RE’s office (as well as many others) has changed progesterone protocol for 2008. No more PIO! Crinone gel exclusively. No shots in the ass, I can dig it.

So that’s the plan for now. I have bunch of other bloodwork and paperwork to take care of in the near-term. Also, I will have a sonohysterography beforehand since my uterus was questionable in size and shape when I had my D&E.

I’ve got two IVF cycles. The first one will be my eggs, hubby’s swimmmers. We will cross our fingers and toes and pray the fertility gods have mercy on us. And if it doesn’t work, we may do it again, maybe not. If we go a second time, we may make the leap to donor eggs for our swan song.

Mind you, we are still working the adoption angle. At this point I would like to ask that if I have any long lost relatives that are wealthy and reading this, to please consider gifting me about 50 grand. That should be all we need.

The IVF train is about to leave the station. Hop on and join me for more drama.

Waiting, wishing, hoping

Tuesday won’t come soon enough to know if this pregnancy is on the right track.

That being said, I feel very pregnant in every way. Since the day before my BFP, I’ve had pretty ridiculous headaches. They do level off in their intensity, but they are constant. I can’t remember if I had such bad headaches with David, but I certainly did not in the last failed pregnancies.

I am so happy that my progesterone is at a good level, because I always have fought low progesterone. Let’s hope that remains a non-issue.

It’s an odd place to be when you are waiting for that second beta. Wanting to be excited, but trying not to be too excited. I know all too well at doubling betas (for me anyway) don’t equal a baby.

Thanks to you ALL for your well-wishes. It’s nice to share a good day with my blogging friends.


I had a really nice birthday dinner on Saturday. My Mom made a collage in a frame with pictures of me from baby to 40, and it was really cute. I haven’t seen a picture of myself as a baby in years. Or, my incredibly long hair as a little girl which I chopped off at age 9 never to return again.

My brother and sister-in-law gave me a sterling silver trinket box with an engraving on the top. Very sweet. And S. gave me a litany of gifts at home (what inspired him I don’t know), the best being a new eternity band ring.

And the topper was a chocolate chip mint filled yellow cake with white chocolate frosting. The best cake I ever tasted!

It was a really great weekend. Let’s hope that carries into this week. 😉


I have 4 more days left to be 39 years old.

You know, when I was young(er) I used to think 40 was one-step into the grave. Now that I am just about there, I’d love to slap myself in the face for thinking that for even a moment.

When my Mom turned 40, I was 19 and my brother was 16. My Dad had the great idea to throw my Mom a surprise party with a bunch of guests, and my brother and I thought, COOL! a party!

My Mom was surprised alright. She cried. Not tears of joy, but anger and sorrow. She was pissed to be 40. She wanted nothing of it.

As you might imagine, that party didn’t turn out so well.

Often, I feel like a 21 year old, and yeah, there are those days when I feel much more than my age, but to be honest I have more good than bad days.

My teen years do seem long ago, and the memories do start to fade (a little) when the clock starts winding up. College seems like long ago (but not THAT long ago), and my twenties seem very not so long ago at all.

And my 30’s? Well, they were a blur. I think I must have slept though most of them, because damn if they didn’t go fast.

I guess that is how it goes, as we age. I am hoping that someday this blog serves as a record to remind me what I might forget when I reach 60? 70? 80?

The truth is, 40 is just fine with me.

If I weren’t still desperately seeking fertility, I wouldn’t be the least bit sad about it. 40 is only a number that bothers me when I think about my aging eggs.

And, hubby is newly 40 too… so we kind of are in this together.

I don’t really have any plans this weekend (my birthday is Saturday). My Mom and Dad are taking me, hubby, David, and my brother, his wife, and kids to dinner. No shebang. No balloons or streamers. No large honking signs that say 4-0

My Mom promises to keep it on the down low. I guess she half expects the same reaction she gave us 21 years ago.

Truth is Mom,

I’m just groovy.