It has now been four days since I stopped the progesterone, estrogen, prednisone, folic acid and Omega 3s. Today marks 5 weeks and I am waiting for my body to do something, anything to signal that it is letting go of this doomed pregnancy.
In the mean time, I have:
gone on long runs, ordered in sushi (I lied and told the lady on the phone it was for 2 people when she asked how many it was for -- to be fair, I did eat the 28 pieces in two separate sittings), drank wine, consumed copious amounts of (unpasteurized?) goat cheese, ordered a large latte every morning at work, popped a few aspirin, and lifted many heavy boxes. While long runs historically cause me to spot bright red when I am not pregnant, running under these circumstances does not seem to produce the same effect.
I will get a beta drawn in the morning to see where things stand. In the mean time, this is beginning to feel a little ominous. If this isn't going to work out (it's not) I was really hoping it would at least be chemical and that my body would take care of things itself.
I can't help but think that it would be a signature A. move to be diagnosed with an ectopic the week we are supposed to move abroad.
Showing posts with label IVF #3. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IVF #3. Show all posts
Jun 9, 2012
Jun 4, 2012
beta #1 (12dp3dt)
Beta #1 = 138. Going back on Wednesday for beta #2. I think this could possibly work, but such a long way to go! Still in shock to be in this place at all.
May 30, 2012
May 23, 2012
the embryo transfer blues
Despite my best attempts at apathy, TTC again is really hard. I so desperately want to be pregnant again, but everything I've been doing to try to make it happen feels like a form of punishment. I think constantly about how if the twins were to arrive now they would most likely be alive and well, and that causes me a lot of pain.
Every action we take to make a new baby is a reminder of the babies who were supposed to be here with us right now. Sometimes it is just too cruel. I do still think this was the right choice for us -- to jump back into IVF again so soon after, but it is hard and lonely.
Today we transferred one day 3 8-celled embryo with some fragmentation. I really only want to do SET because I am terrified of conceiving another set of twins, but I still have very complicated feelings about it. In some sense "needing" to do SET and the lowered chance of pregnancy with each transfer that comes with it feels like a punishment, like I am being reprimanded for something really horrible that I did.
And in a sense that's completely accurate -- I am being reprimanded for something really horrible that I did, it is just something that my body did that I had no conscious control over.
Honestly, part of me also would still really like twins. I am okay now with admitting that, but at the same time it is a very theoretical type of want, because another twin pregnancy, at least before proving that I can successfully carry a full-term singleton pregnancy, would just be too terrifying and too unfair to the babies (so despite my complicated feelings, no need to lecture me on what a bad idea it would be to transfer more than one embryo).
Anyhow, all of this talk of singletons vs. multiples is pretty moot at this point. Due to the premature rise in progesterone, Dr. T. thinks my chances of conceiving with this transfer are low. Of course this makes me feel pretty bleak. Actually, this really sucks.
I have been giving this little 8-celled soap bubble a lot of pep-talking, and of course anything at this point is possible -- if I have been on the wrong side of the unlikely statistics more than my fair share, isn't it possible to end up on the right side of the unlikely statistics this time?
I even promised this pretty little 8-celled soap bubble a ridiculously overpriced stroller and a loving home (you will not be surprised to know Y rolled his eyes at the ridiculously overpriced stroller part). Still, I am not very hopeful and it's bringing me to a sadder place than I imagined because I am bringing so much additional grief along with me.
The interesting news is that we still have four remaining embryos. This morning, one was 4 cells and the other three were 6 cells. All of them had some fragmentation. This doesn't sound stellar, but Naava and Aminadav both came from blasts that were fragmented 6-cell embryos on day 3.
Our lab isn't so good at freezing and thawing blasts (though they do use vitrification), so the current plan is to freeze the remaining embryos today on day 3 and then thaw them next month and attempt to see if we can grow one of them to blastocyst. Then we would attempt a day 5 SET, which is what we initially wanted to do with this transfer and we would have, but since my RE thinks our chances of implantation are lower due to the premature progesterone rise, we didn't want to…wait for it…put all of our eggs in one basket.
This plan is ok but puts a serious cramp in my style given that we were supposed to move to Canada on June 15! If this transfer is unsuccessful, the new plan is for me to stay behind in Israel solo to do the transfer after we've packed up all our stuff and moved out of our place. This would pretty much suck (goes right back to the feeling of being punished), but since I am a glutton both for punishment and opportunities to get pregnant, we all know that I will end up doing it. Clearly, what would suck even more is if I hang around for the additional couple of weeks only for none of the embryos to make it to day 5.
Between the move, TTC, and my work situation I feel like everything is in total limbo right now and nothing about this year is unraveling the way I hoped and anticipated (most notably the part where my twins were supposed to live and I was supposed to be totally overwhelmed with two infants this summer). Sorry if I am starting to sound angry, sad, and bitter, but right now, I think that's pretty much where I'm at.
Every action we take to make a new baby is a reminder of the babies who were supposed to be here with us right now. Sometimes it is just too cruel. I do still think this was the right choice for us -- to jump back into IVF again so soon after, but it is hard and lonely.
Today we transferred one day 3 8-celled embryo with some fragmentation. I really only want to do SET because I am terrified of conceiving another set of twins, but I still have very complicated feelings about it. In some sense "needing" to do SET and the lowered chance of pregnancy with each transfer that comes with it feels like a punishment, like I am being reprimanded for something really horrible that I did.
And in a sense that's completely accurate -- I am being reprimanded for something really horrible that I did, it is just something that my body did that I had no conscious control over.
Honestly, part of me also would still really like twins. I am okay now with admitting that, but at the same time it is a very theoretical type of want, because another twin pregnancy, at least before proving that I can successfully carry a full-term singleton pregnancy, would just be too terrifying and too unfair to the babies (so despite my complicated feelings, no need to lecture me on what a bad idea it would be to transfer more than one embryo).
Anyhow, all of this talk of singletons vs. multiples is pretty moot at this point. Due to the premature rise in progesterone, Dr. T. thinks my chances of conceiving with this transfer are low. Of course this makes me feel pretty bleak. Actually, this really sucks.
I have been giving this little 8-celled soap bubble a lot of pep-talking, and of course anything at this point is possible -- if I have been on the wrong side of the unlikely statistics more than my fair share, isn't it possible to end up on the right side of the unlikely statistics this time?
I even promised this pretty little 8-celled soap bubble a ridiculously overpriced stroller and a loving home (you will not be surprised to know Y rolled his eyes at the ridiculously overpriced stroller part). Still, I am not very hopeful and it's bringing me to a sadder place than I imagined because I am bringing so much additional grief along with me.
The interesting news is that we still have four remaining embryos. This morning, one was 4 cells and the other three were 6 cells. All of them had some fragmentation. This doesn't sound stellar, but Naava and Aminadav both came from blasts that were fragmented 6-cell embryos on day 3.
Our lab isn't so good at freezing and thawing blasts (though they do use vitrification), so the current plan is to freeze the remaining embryos today on day 3 and then thaw them next month and attempt to see if we can grow one of them to blastocyst. Then we would attempt a day 5 SET, which is what we initially wanted to do with this transfer and we would have, but since my RE thinks our chances of implantation are lower due to the premature progesterone rise, we didn't want to…wait for it…put all of our eggs in one basket.
This plan is ok but puts a serious cramp in my style given that we were supposed to move to Canada on June 15! If this transfer is unsuccessful, the new plan is for me to stay behind in Israel solo to do the transfer after we've packed up all our stuff and moved out of our place. This would pretty much suck (goes right back to the feeling of being punished), but since I am a glutton both for punishment and opportunities to get pregnant, we all know that I will end up doing it. Clearly, what would suck even more is if I hang around for the additional couple of weeks only for none of the embryos to make it to day 5.
Between the move, TTC, and my work situation I feel like everything is in total limbo right now and nothing about this year is unraveling the way I hoped and anticipated (most notably the part where my twins were supposed to live and I was supposed to be totally overwhelmed with two infants this summer). Sorry if I am starting to sound angry, sad, and bitter, but right now, I think that's pretty much where I'm at.
May 21, 2012
cycle update
10 eggs retrieved (much better than we expected), 7 eggs mature (a little better than we expected), 5 fertilized by ICSI (we'll take it). Big decisions to be made still re: transfer and lots of different considerations to take into account (though we are pretty steadfastly committed to SET, so that is not one of the major considerations). I am exhausted so more to come later, but I just wanted to check in.
May 18, 2012
in which my body made the choice for me...
This round of IVF has become somewhat of a disaster. My right ovary is on vacation, not responding at all. The ultrasound technician says there is something on that ovary, probably a cyst. My E2 was very low at baseline so whatever it is, it seemed unlikely to be functional and interfere with things, but it is now the only explanation of why my right ovary won't do anything. I am now on 2x my usual dose of stims trying to max out what the left side can produce.
None of that in of itself is so terrible, but yesterday my progesterone more than doubled. In short, this means the environment is no longer supportive of implantation, so the plan is to cut the cycle short, do retrieval on Sunday, and then likely freeze whatever we can get in terms of embryos. If we get 3-6 eggs, I don't think we will have much in the way of embryos, but things don't look good for a fresh transfer this month.
The other problem is my uterus. When I had my follow-up scan after the operative hysteroscopy, there was still a small amount of residual "stuff." The gynecologist wanted to wait until I had a good bleed and do another scan at the beginning of my cycle herself to see how things look and then send me for another diagnostic hysteroscopy if things still didn't look good. Then I got the crazy idea that I wanted to do another IVF before we leave for Y's fellowship. And I got lazy. If I needed to get a baseline scan at the fertility clinic anyway at the start of my cycle, I didn't want to also trudge back to her for a baseline scan as well. She said that was up to me, I should just let her know how everything goes.
The baseline scan at the fertility clinic wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for them and I explained to the ultrasound technician the context, so she knew what she was looking for. She said my lining was very thick for the beginning of the cycle and that there was a small echogenic area which could be something or nothing, but at any rate, it was probably on its way out with my period. My next two scans were both with different technicians and they both said my uterus now looked fine. Cue major sigh of relief.
Yesterday was yet another technician. She said there was a small amount of fluid in the uterus (never a good thing) and that there is still an echogenic area with blood flow (not good at all). Also, my lining is inexplicably getting thinner instead of thicker. I don't even know how that is possible. Now my RE says he will take a look at the uterus as well when he does my ER but a fresh transfer is likely off the table anyway due to the rising progesterone.
I guess my body decided for me that it is not ready to make and carry another baby yet. I am quite sad and frustrated because I don't know when our next opportunity will be to cycle again since we are leaving for a year. I know it was wishful thinking to have a smooth and successful IVF so soon after losing the twins and I know I have been a lot less emotionally involved in this cycle than I usually am, but honestly, I am still not at peace with this and it makes me so sad. I come back to it every time - I will never understand why this has to be so so hard.
None of that in of itself is so terrible, but yesterday my progesterone more than doubled. In short, this means the environment is no longer supportive of implantation, so the plan is to cut the cycle short, do retrieval on Sunday, and then likely freeze whatever we can get in terms of embryos. If we get 3-6 eggs, I don't think we will have much in the way of embryos, but things don't look good for a fresh transfer this month.
The other problem is my uterus. When I had my follow-up scan after the operative hysteroscopy, there was still a small amount of residual "stuff." The gynecologist wanted to wait until I had a good bleed and do another scan at the beginning of my cycle herself to see how things look and then send me for another diagnostic hysteroscopy if things still didn't look good. Then I got the crazy idea that I wanted to do another IVF before we leave for Y's fellowship. And I got lazy. If I needed to get a baseline scan at the fertility clinic anyway at the start of my cycle, I didn't want to also trudge back to her for a baseline scan as well. She said that was up to me, I should just let her know how everything goes.
The baseline scan at the fertility clinic wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for them and I explained to the ultrasound technician the context, so she knew what she was looking for. She said my lining was very thick for the beginning of the cycle and that there was a small echogenic area which could be something or nothing, but at any rate, it was probably on its way out with my period. My next two scans were both with different technicians and they both said my uterus now looked fine. Cue major sigh of relief.
Yesterday was yet another technician. She said there was a small amount of fluid in the uterus (never a good thing) and that there is still an echogenic area with blood flow (not good at all). Also, my lining is inexplicably getting thinner instead of thicker. I don't even know how that is possible. Now my RE says he will take a look at the uterus as well when he does my ER but a fresh transfer is likely off the table anyway due to the rising progesterone.
I guess my body decided for me that it is not ready to make and carry another baby yet. I am quite sad and frustrated because I don't know when our next opportunity will be to cycle again since we are leaving for a year. I know it was wishful thinking to have a smooth and successful IVF so soon after losing the twins and I know I have been a lot less emotionally involved in this cycle than I usually am, but honestly, I am still not at peace with this and it makes me so sad. I come back to it every time - I will never understand why this has to be so so hard.
May 14, 2012
i have a secret
I have a secret. I am currently in the middle of an IVF cycle. (Wow it feels good to say it.) A little slip-under-the-radar IVF before our one-year sojourn in Toronto for Y's fellowship and the end of our amazing Israeli fertility coverage until we return in summer 2013. We aren't telling our families or anyone, really (except for the internet, apparently) about this cycle. It feels quite liberating, in fact - this covert IVF business. It suits me and I think we should keep our reproductive pursuits under wraps more often, as far as family is concerned. Or at least be much more vague.
In the off-chance that all the stars align and I win the reproductive lottery, both by becoming pregnant and then remaining pregnant long enough that the baby is viable before my body sabotages the pregnancy, it would be my ultimate fantasy to tell no one at all of the pregnancy; rather, I would just show up one day with a robust, squeaking, living baby safe in my arms.
Everything about this IVF is actually pretty liberating. It is so vastly different from my previous cycles in that I really don't care. I know I will be truly, honestly sad and disappointed if it doesn't work, but in the past I was really short-sighted, and that made the consequences of a failed cycle seem much worse. What I mean by that is that it felt really high-stakes when I viewed the worst possible outcome as either a failed cycle or an early miscarriage. Now my deepest fears lie elsewhere.
In the past, I was obsessed with having complete control and doing everything just right - the IVF meditation CDs, acupuncture, reciting tehillim (psalms), eating well, nutrition supplements, knowing the size of my follicles and E2 off by heart at any given moment, actually handling dangerous chemicals in lab with caution. I believed that no one was more invested in the outcome of my cycle than myself so the weight was on my shoulders to do everything in my control to get everything just right.
My control freakery has at least temporarily been replaced largely by indifference. It is too early to say whether my newfound zen is the real deal or just a temporary manifestation of apathy that is part of my mourning. For now, I am just injecting whatever medications in whatever quantities my doctor recommends and trying not to think about it much beyond that.
The decision to cycle this month was actually extremely impulsive and last minute - as in, we had a vague and general conversation with Dr. T. about cycling again before the retained placenta disaster and then I woke up bleeding one morning last week, shocked myself, and asked Dr. T. whether he would support me in doing something really nuts and allow me to cycle right now. The next morning I went in for a baseline and got my prescriptions and that evening I started my injections.
I knew Y was secretly delighted when I called him at work to say I had my period and was thinking of calling Dr. T, though he had done a really good job not explicitly pressuring me to cycle when I didn't feel ready, which I really appreciate.
I also know it is a little radical what I did - leaping off a cliff with my eyes closed and deciding to cycle last-minute when I had already started bleeding - but for me, it is what worked. I was really incapable of knowing I was ready until that moment arrived, and if I had a lot of time to think about it, it would have just made me very anxious and agitated.
I also have the unusual luxury of an extremely accommodating and understanding RE who could make things work on very short notice. (I suspect he is also happy to have the opportunity to try to get me pregnant again before we leave for Toronto because I know our loss was the loss of a victory for him, too, and he is a really swell guy who certainly makes me feel like he has an investment in our outcome.)
Since losing Aminadav and Naava, I have had many days when I feel like never trying to get pregnant again, but underneath those doubts and dark feelings, is my belief that while nothing will ever fix what happened or my incredibly strong desire for them specifically, Y and I need a happier focus to our lives in the form of a living child.
I did think maybe it was a little bit overly eager to be returning to IVF and attempting to get pregnant again so soon after the twins died. I think that sometimes, still - that it is somehow disrespectful towards them to move forward with cycling so quickly. But mostly I see that a living child will connect me back to the twins - that the love I have for a living child and the mothering I have the opportunity to do for him or her will also allow me to mother the twins in the way I never got to and allow my love & appreciation for them to deepen even more.
It is incredibly scary and unnerving, as always, never knowing exactly what still lies ahead in our pursuit of a living child - the same, familiar wondering as before - whether we are very far or closer than we think. Except this time, it is tinged with the awful first-hand knowledge that you can get very very close and come back up with empty arms, having lost and gained so much. (It is always important to remember & acknowledge how much we gained.)
In the off-chance that all the stars align and I win the reproductive lottery, both by becoming pregnant and then remaining pregnant long enough that the baby is viable before my body sabotages the pregnancy, it would be my ultimate fantasy to tell no one at all of the pregnancy; rather, I would just show up one day with a robust, squeaking, living baby safe in my arms.
Everything about this IVF is actually pretty liberating. It is so vastly different from my previous cycles in that I really don't care. I know I will be truly, honestly sad and disappointed if it doesn't work, but in the past I was really short-sighted, and that made the consequences of a failed cycle seem much worse. What I mean by that is that it felt really high-stakes when I viewed the worst possible outcome as either a failed cycle or an early miscarriage. Now my deepest fears lie elsewhere.
In the past, I was obsessed with having complete control and doing everything just right - the IVF meditation CDs, acupuncture, reciting tehillim (psalms), eating well, nutrition supplements, knowing the size of my follicles and E2 off by heart at any given moment, actually handling dangerous chemicals in lab with caution. I believed that no one was more invested in the outcome of my cycle than myself so the weight was on my shoulders to do everything in my control to get everything just right.
My control freakery has at least temporarily been replaced largely by indifference. It is too early to say whether my newfound zen is the real deal or just a temporary manifestation of apathy that is part of my mourning. For now, I am just injecting whatever medications in whatever quantities my doctor recommends and trying not to think about it much beyond that.
The decision to cycle this month was actually extremely impulsive and last minute - as in, we had a vague and general conversation with Dr. T. about cycling again before the retained placenta disaster and then I woke up bleeding one morning last week, shocked myself, and asked Dr. T. whether he would support me in doing something really nuts and allow me to cycle right now. The next morning I went in for a baseline and got my prescriptions and that evening I started my injections.
I knew Y was secretly delighted when I called him at work to say I had my period and was thinking of calling Dr. T, though he had done a really good job not explicitly pressuring me to cycle when I didn't feel ready, which I really appreciate.
I also know it is a little radical what I did - leaping off a cliff with my eyes closed and deciding to cycle last-minute when I had already started bleeding - but for me, it is what worked. I was really incapable of knowing I was ready until that moment arrived, and if I had a lot of time to think about it, it would have just made me very anxious and agitated.
I also have the unusual luxury of an extremely accommodating and understanding RE who could make things work on very short notice. (I suspect he is also happy to have the opportunity to try to get me pregnant again before we leave for Toronto because I know our loss was the loss of a victory for him, too, and he is a really swell guy who certainly makes me feel like he has an investment in our outcome.)
Since losing Aminadav and Naava, I have had many days when I feel like never trying to get pregnant again, but underneath those doubts and dark feelings, is my belief that while nothing will ever fix what happened or my incredibly strong desire for them specifically, Y and I need a happier focus to our lives in the form of a living child.
I did think maybe it was a little bit overly eager to be returning to IVF and attempting to get pregnant again so soon after the twins died. I think that sometimes, still - that it is somehow disrespectful towards them to move forward with cycling so quickly. But mostly I see that a living child will connect me back to the twins - that the love I have for a living child and the mothering I have the opportunity to do for him or her will also allow me to mother the twins in the way I never got to and allow my love & appreciation for them to deepen even more.
It is incredibly scary and unnerving, as always, never knowing exactly what still lies ahead in our pursuit of a living child - the same, familiar wondering as before - whether we are very far or closer than we think. Except this time, it is tinged with the awful first-hand knowledge that you can get very very close and come back up with empty arms, having lost and gained so much. (It is always important to remember & acknowledge how much we gained.)
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