I don’t know how I feel about that term “pregnant until proven otherwise”. On one hand, now that the IUI is complete, I have to behave as though I am pregnant. On the other hand, it creates false hope. It really does.
Maybe PUPO is only for IVF patients?! I don’t know.
The IUI was Friday, it was fairly straightforward (it’s our 6th, so no surprises here). 46M of hubby’s best swimmers went in and then I went home and slept. Previous IUIs, I had gone back to work but I share an office with the most amazing woman who really urged me to just take a damn sick day this time. She was right, she always is, and sleeping made me feel better. Probably because I couldn’t be terrified while sleeping.
I realized the other day that if this IUI doesn’t work then I won’t become a mother in 2016. It will be another year of broken dreams and I just don’t think I can do that again.
So out of fear I called in sick today as well. I rested up this weekend and I think one more day of rest won’t hurt. Then it can be back to real life and waiting.
But for now, PUPO?!
When my husband and I moved to the Middle East we learned about how convenient stereotypes can be. While not a correct way of thinking, in that situation facing so much change and uncertainty, being able to put the world into little boxes was a coping mechanism. It helped bring sense and order to your world when it didn’t have any.
Lately I am finding that’s similar to how our friends and family are handling our fertility issues. With the cancelled cycle, I have received so many comments like “Is this why you are having troubles?” or “Is this why you are miscarrying?” and so on.
Everyone wants a reason. They want to be able to put us into a box. “[That] happened to them because of [this]”. Because it is easier for them, not us, if they have reason. It brings a sense of order and rationale to their view of the world. It is far easier than acknowledging that things don’t happen for a reason and even more so the uncomfortable truth that we are not in control of our destinies.
And yes, bad things happen to good people…for no reason at all.
Our 3rd IVF cycle is officially cancelled and we have converted it to a IUI. We have done 5 IUIs before and only one resulted a BFP (Angel Baby 1), so I am not overly optimistic but it’s better than doing the injections for nothing.
We had an ultrasound this morning which confirmed the earlier results, the follicles did not develop evenly and so we have 3 (ish) that are ready to go and the remainder will not develop in time.
By some miracle the doctor doing our ultrasound this morning was our RE and so we were able to ask him all ourquestions. He was surprised by the results given the antagonist protocol and he did not believe that it had anything to do with the increase in Gonal-F but rather a result of cycle irregularity. “It happens” he said. While I am not sure he would admit if it was the increased Gonal-F, from what I have read I don’t think that’s the case anymore. Rather I think it’s our shitty luck once again or perhaps a scary sign for me that my ovarian reserve is dimishing.
I did ask him if it was a bad sign – is this an indicator of my ovaries and eggs reducing in quantity and quality dramatically over the year (I may have actually said “is this a sign everything is going to shit”) – and he said while he doesn’t think so, he doesn’t want to speculate just yet.
As he put it, “I want this IUI to work and I am going to believe it will”.
Damn, good advice Doc.
Remember my too quiet ovaries?! Which resulted in my Gonal-F being increased to 300?!
Well after my Friday blood test (after 4 days of stimming), they called me in for an ultrasound this morning as my estrogen was high. Turns out that my follicles aren’t developing at a consistent rate and we have 2-3 that are miles ahead which means they won’t all develop in time. Our clinic recommends canceling or converting to IUI at only 3-4 follicles as it is unlikely we will retrieve enough eggs to even fertilize at that number.
Last time I stimmed for 10 days on 125 of Gonal F and we retrieved 13 eggs.
This time it was supposed to be 225 of Gonal F.
I think the doc f**ked is over when she switched it to 300. Maybe I should have questioned more? Maybe I should’ve/would’ve/could’ve.
Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.
It’s that time when the latest crop of Infertility bloggers I follow are now pregnant. This is the second time in my four years. Seems to be that it happens in two year cycles. Another blogger recently wrote about feeling isolated and I can relate to that. It’s a definite feeling of being left behind.
What I have noticed of late is that these bloggers are posting their news (in this instance, none are anonymous) at 5 and 6 weeks. They are even arranging events to surprise and tell their families.
It’s reminded me that there is a difference between the infertile community and the infertility+repeat pregnancy loss community.
After 3 miscarriages, a BFP would be exciting but is no longer an event worth telling the world about. It’s the start of an even harder and longer wait. One that has yet to end in heartbreak.
I admire their optimism and in some ways, naivety, at their the belief that the hard part is over. When I see those early announcements every part of my body hopes that’s the only one they have to make.
I know there is a belief that you should celebrate and enjoy being pregnant even if that’s only for 6, 7, 8 or 9 weeks but I don’t think I could do that anymore.
What about you? Would you tell? When?
Our clinic has a number system. A box opens in the lobby at 6am when the building opens and you can get your number and then leave and come back at 7:30 when the clinic opens. I got there at 6:10 and I picked up number 7.
Happily traffic was light so I went home for breakfast.
I had my blood test and then my baseline ultrasound. Technically the ultrasound was fine but the doc (not one known for her bedside manner) told me “your ovaries are too quiet for a 33 year old” and that she would be increasing my Gonal-F to 300.
Of course I immediately took that as a bad sign.
My stomach is in knots as I wait for my drug injection “how-to” refresher class.