Pregnancy and Loss.

So as most of the world knows I'm pregnant again and due late January with baby the second, baby number two or Turducken.
I loved how our neighbours some how find out and congratulate Adam like he's accomplished a major feat. Me? I thank science, particularly the Reproductive and Endocrinology Department!
Getting pregnant this time was in many ways harder than getting pregnant with Trixie. After her surprise c-section my uterus was left pretty scarred up, which we found out after the surgery I had to open the blocked fallopian tube I had. So I needed 2 more surgeries to remove scar tissue, a mess of fibroids and some crazy endometrium lining. After all of these surgeries I had the go ahead to start trying to conceive. Then I started having gall bladder attacks, which my friends, are horrible. Worse than labour pains, which the surgeon told me is a common complaint about them. The only way to alleviate them quickly was to have my gall bladder removed, which I did, in December. Now I was truly ready to have a baby again. (If you're counting that was 5 surgeries in 2008!)
Adam and I started on the drugs again (I say Adam because while I take them, he suffers too). We were really optimistic that I would conceive on the first cycle because this drug is most effective the first time you use it. However I was not so lucky. That cycle was a bust, then the next we had to miss because I overstimulated and had to skip one, then the next failed, then the next I was on a super high dose along with another drug to help this one be stronger. This one yielded me with seven eggs, which is a lot. The nurse practitioners cautioned me that I would hurt a lot when I ovulated (I did, a lot) and that I should be prepared for multiples and the possibility of having to reduce the number of embryos. I was excited because with so many eggs I should be able to get at least one, and hopefully two, any more than that was scary, and I did not want to think about reducing the number of babies.
As luck would have it, I did get pregnant. My beta numbers were a little high, but not unbelievably so. From week 4 I was nauseous a lot. At the 6 week ultrasound I learned that there were 2 sacs, and we could see a clear beating heart in one, and something in the other, so it was not an empty sac, which means it was not a blighted ovum. (Which is when an unfertilized egg implants.) I went on to tell everyone that I was pregnant with twins. Which was not scary for me. That would give us 3 children and I've always wanted 3 or 4. I would not have to go through another round of fertility treatments, because they're horrible. My family would be complete, and by this point the nausea was horrible and I felt terrible all of the time. I did not want to think about another pregnancy.
We went back at 7 weeks to check on the other sac, and again that baby was not showing clearly, the sac was still growing and there was something in it. The other baby was growing wonderfully, and had a strong visible heartbeat.
Week 9, it's obvious that there is now nothing in the sac with the hard to see baby. I am officially pregnant with one only baby, but now with a sac that continues to grow and has a placenta, which gives me the hormone rush, making me nauseous.
Week 10, I'm defined as a "twin loss" I can't do any early screening because there is DNA from that lost baby in me, which would cloud any testing. Now I am sad. The label of "twin loss" hits me really hard. All of the nurses at the REI clinic are sad and I have a tough time not losing everything in front of them. And besides Adam they are the only people to offer me their condolences and not make comments that at least I have one healthy baby. They understand that I lost a baby, not a mess of cells and not just an empty sac. A baby. Granted the baby was small (they figure it died at about 6 weeks) and was only a mess of cells, but you know, I wanted that mess of cells, I planned to meet and hold that mess of cells. That mess of cells was my baby. I had/ have to grieve for that baby.
Now I am at week 12, I have felt Turducken wiggle a lot, I'm betting that this will be a wiggly baby, just like Trixie was. Sometimes I feel like Turducken is a girl, sometimes a boy. I think that the baby who died was a boy and Turducken is a girl, but I don't know. I feel strongly that I was pregnant with a boy and girl.
I am still sad when I think about what could have been. And I am sure some people out there are chiding me in their minds, but scroll up and read what I went through again. That baby was wanted, along with the baby I am pregnant with. WANTED. LOVED. It's not a blessing that I lost one of the twins. It's a travesty. It's horrible. It's not something I ever want to feel again. People don't seem to understand this.
Adam does though. So I am lucky. He has never said that "at least we have one".
But we do. And s/he is a wiggly, kicky baby. For that I am grateful!

The Gall! (bladder)

Hey did you notice the post from yesterday, kinda lame, eh? I know that Adam wrote it, from his phone in the ER, and I'm totally not judging his writing. In fact I am so happy he posted, helps with the one a day, ya know. Anyhow there's totally a story.

Since I've had Trixie I've had these excruciatingly bad pains in my abdomen and I thought that they were gas pains, so I went with that, gas pains. I took Gas-X like it was candy and complained and moaned that I was going to die, waiting for the pain to pass. At first it did in a couple of hours, and during that time I was still able to function, so it wasn't much of an issue. But each episode would get worse and worse and finally when I would have "the pain" I would be layed up in bed quietly dying... although I'm sure Adam would say I wasn't so quiet. (so painful!) Before I went to Canada the last time I had "the pain" again and it lasted 3 days, which also included me being on a plane with Trixie. Lets say I was less than amused. It sucked. I'm not sure how I survived. While in Canada I had "the pain" two more times, for a shorter time, but so much more intense. Anyhow can you see where this is going?
I keep getting gas pains, they are getting worse and worse and more frequent. I don't see a doctor, eat Gas X like it's candy and it does nothing. I suffer, Adam gets little sleep.
Then I get the mother of all of the episodes last Saturday night and it's so painful that I throw up, several times, which wears my throat raw and makes me have bloody puke. On Monday Adam tells me to call the doctor, and she tries to prescribe me antacids. I refuse because I want to know why this is happening, and not just mask it with drugs, because I would like to get pregnant soon and I don't want to be reliant on scary drugs. My doctor gets exasperated with me and sends me to a allergist who pokes me many times for a skin test which proves I have no allergies (yay I can drink milk again!) I have many blood tests and I am not pregnant, no allergic to wheat and have no issues with any of the organs she tested. (she didn't test my liver....) Then last night "the pains" start again. So I rush to take an over the counter antacid and a handful of tums all washed down with some strong peppermint tea. I wait. There is still a lot of pain. Adam comes home and finds me crying from the pain (seriously as bad as labour pain, but with no breaks) so I call an advise nurse who tells me to go to the hospital NOW! We pack up the baby and go. We fill out forms, have my blood pressure checked and temperature checked (high- duh!, normal) and we wait. While we wait Trixie makes eyes at everyone she sees and they all coo over her, I try not to bite off the heads of random strangers in a hospital who are touching my baby, and I practice the breathing techniques I learned in my birth class. (they worked!) Finally I am called in and placed in a small room. I am asked a lot of questions, over and over. (why don't they read each other's notes?) Finally after a lot of breathing exercises, a couple tears and many doctors and nurses I have more blood drawn and am promised pain killers. The Big Burly Nurse comes in and he prepares an IV, (in my elbow!) and prepares to give me morphine, which I'm allergic to. (seriously, read the notes....) So he bustles off to find some other narcotic to inject me with, and comes back. It goes like this: inject, me freak out because I am immediately dizzy, BBN says it will pass in a minute and to breathe, I have no pain, but still dizzy. (and was until today)
The first doctor who I saw in the hospital comes in again and I can talk normally and not be gasping in pain, she tells me that I have the classic, albeit more intense, symptoms of passing a gall stone. She asks if I've ever been checked for gall stones -no. Ever had an abdominal ultrasound (not baby ultrasound) -no. Ever had blood tests to check for gall stones -no. So apparently my regular doctor who wanted to prescribe antacids is an idiot, and this isn't the first time she's totally screwed up... not the 2nd either. (new doc search commences when I get back from New Zealand) Anyhow the hospital doc says that she'll come back with the blood test results. Then BBN comes in and says I need to pee in a cup, which I hate. I do though, and one would guess I am so dehydrated that my pee would be consistency of syrup. (it wasn't) I later mention this to the doctor and she is convinced it's my gall bladder since dark urine is a classic symptom. The doctor comes back and tells me that my liver is behaving like the liver of someone who is a heavy drinker, except I don't drink, so it's a surefire sign that I have gall bladder issues. I am told that they are keeping me over night and I will get an ultrasound in the morning. If my gall bladder is infected or inflamed they will remove it. Which would mean that I would have to postpone our trip to New Zealand. Adam and Trixie go home since it's 2 in the morning, Adam was dead tired and Trixie was sleeping on me after having charmed the pants off of everyone until 1 am. I am left alone in the small ER room, listening to the chaos that is an ER. Adam and Trixie come back at 8:30 am, Adam's eyes are all red and Trixie launches herself at me, in the cute way that she does. (Trixie woke up several times, so Adam didn't get much sleep.) We sit around and wait and wait and wait. Then I am moved to the part of the ER where they keep people who have to stay over night. "It has a TV!" woo. Finally I am taken for an ultrasound. We come back to my new room. We wait, again, a lot. A new doctor comes in and... wait for it... I have gall stones! My gall bladder isn't inflamed or infected so I will have to make appointments with surgery and book an appointment to have it removed.
So YAY I get to go to New Zealand on time, but it looks like we might have to postpone trying to get pregnant, and hopefully we won't have to postpone it so much that I will have to redo the other surgeries I had earlier this summer.
Oh I was also prescribed vicodine... in case "the pain" returns.
So how was your night?

Third time's a charm!

On Monday I went in for my third, (yes third!) operation in as many months in order to make my uterus baby ready. And by golly I think we've finally gotten it right this time. To avoid the intense pain I was in from the last surgery where I was awake and felt every scrape of my uterus I was put to sleep this time. This left Dr. Scrapes A Lot free to scrape the inside of my uterus without worrying about my pesky screaming, however that means I didn't get to watch the surgery on the TV screen, which was pretty cool last time, and it means I couldn't ask him my standard millions of questions. He did talk to Adam after he was all done with me and I was waking in the recovery area. He let Adam know that my uterus is all scraped clean, that I had a balloon in my uterus to prevent it from collapsing and scarring together and that basically I survived.
Today I went in for a post op. appointment and he removed the balloon from my uterus, which sucked. (he just pulled it out, OUCH!) He says that I didn't have as much scar tissue as he'd expected but I did have a lot more polyps than expected. We're waiting for the results from the lab to see just what kind of partying Trixie was doing while she had taken up residence in there.
All in all everything looks good. I just need to heal from this summer of surgeries and we can start trying to have another baby.
very exciting!

C-Sections suck!

Remember this? My famous last words in an attempt to be an optimist were, "Hopefully it isn't anything serious..."; and so... I should have let my inner pessimist out to play!
Okay it's not that bad, but I do have to go in for another surgery, this time a little more complicated one involving scissors. Which makes me remember this post; especially this line: "I'm pretty sure security is tight so no scissors were admitted without my approval...", and now I have to admit some scissors! (And a camera and a little vacuum!) Sounds like a great way to spend an afternoon, doesn't it?
Okay so why do c-sections suck? The infertility doctor figures that the crazy amounts of scarring I have are related to my c-section! Now please explain to me again why people willingly sign up for these? And, seriously if I hear to avoid tearing I might whip down my pants and show them my ugly c-section scar!

Okay lets talk about my uterus since I've told the internets everything else.
A normal uterus is like a triangle standing on it's point with the wide part at the top. My uterus looks like a heart. The top is rounded out from scar tissue and there is something in the middle making it heart shaped, could be a polyp or just a lot of scarring, the doctor isn't quite sure at this time. We know that the scarring is related to the c-section and pregnancy because we have images from April 2007 of my uterus and it was a perfect triangle, and now it's not. The scarring is in a strange place since the slicing and dicing for baby extraction is done at the bottom of the uterus, but apparently it's still all related.
So it looks like that this is the birth that keeps on giving! (answer me again, why do people sign up for c-sections?*)


*I mean elective c-sections, not emergency ones. I know that I am being a little harsh for judging people for not wanting small tears in their perineum instead opting for a 6 inch gash across their bikini line, but it doesn't make any sense to me at all.

Back on the wagon...

As I changed my status on facebook today I realized that not everyone will have any clue what I mean when I wrote that I feel like I've been punched in the uterus. Today I went into the hospital for a fallopian tube recanalization, which is why I am a little on the achy side of things.
Just before Trixie was conceived I had another procedure which checked out the fallopian tubes and we found out that one was blocked and we had planned to get it fixed, but then were fortunate enough to get pregnant. So now the baby is here and now is a great time to start thinking about a sibling for Trixie so we're starting all of the fertility treatments and procedures again.
The procedure today was okay. I was given some interesting drugs which really relaxed me and left me awake for the doctors, but I don't remember much. I recall him telling me that my tube was still blocked, then I was told to shift positions, there was talk of some scarring and then it was all done. I went into the room thinking that I would ask a lot of questions, but apparently the drugs were too good! (hmm the doctors might want to drug me up more since I am sure I ask too many questions, hee hee.) After I napped a little in the recovery area the nurse told me that it was successful and they were able to unblock my tube. (I guess that is why they wanted me to tip on one side, they wanted to help the stuff drain into my tube.) I asked Adam later, since the doctor talked to him and he was told that everything went well I have 2 clear tubes. He did mention that I had some scarring in my uterus, which may be from my c-section. Hopefully it isn't anything serious, but this doctor was going to mention it to my regular infertility doctor.
So that's it. We're back on the infertility wagon, hoping to give Trixie a sibling sometime next year. We have talked about this to some people and I've been regaled with stories about "that woman" who conceived naturally after infertility problems. I wonder if she's related to "this woman I know who went on a vacation and got pregnant". Perhaps there are whole gangs of "those women".
I want to kick them in the shins!

Infertili-what?

Today at a playgroup I was talking to one of the other moms who conceived her baby through IVF, so I shared my story with her how Trixie is an IUI baby. We spent the next 40 minute or so sharing our stories and talking about when we were each going to try again. (me later this year, her maybe next year) Then we both reminded each other about the infertile gone fertile urban myth. How some mothers will just have all of her problems magically go away after she gives birth the first time. Other mothers that were sitting near us and heard the conversation also assured us that they know of someone who knows someone who turned fertile and "it was amazing!" I smiled and nodded, secretly hoping that I'll someday have an "accident baby", but in reality I suspect I'll be injecting myself on a daily basis again for a couple weeks to get Trixie a sibling.
Then on my way home I was thinking about the whole conversation and how talking about it kind of dredged up some old feelings. I had forgotten how gutted I was every time I would get my period, or how when I found out a good friend had her baby I sobbed so hard I nearly lost my voice. I'd forgotten how lonely I felt, feeling like everyone around me was getting pregnant and I couldn't, even though I wanted to so badly.
I feel like I shouldn't forget those times, after all I was so consumed with my efforts to get pregnant, and I will have to go through it again. It's kind of like if I don't remember the efforts I put in I'm doing an injustice to every imagined baby I would have had each time I'd slog through another two week wait.
On the other hand I don't want to dwell on something so depressing when I have her to look at every day.

Regrets

It's getting to be that time of year when we look back and reflect on the year.
This year has been mostly good to me. It started out rough and left me hopeless 5 times, and ends on a high note. I have a lot to be happy for, a baby on the way, a new house to move into in the New Year and a strong, secure, happy marriage where I get to laugh with my best friend every day.
I'm sure if I were to look there would be some regrets. However, honestly I don't look. I don't see how it's productive to look at what you did wrong and lament over it. When I do make a mistake I try to learn from it, but beating myself up over it is counter productive. That being said I have a small regret....
I missed seeing the Spice Girls reunion tour when it was in San Jose. I heard it was great. And man I loves me some Spice Girls!

"How much is that baby in the window?"

As you all know I have never been quiet about the issues Adam and I had to get pregnant. Luckily for Adam, it was all me. I had the issues and it really and truly sucked, as much as I laughed about it, making jokes how I could feel the needles catch on my skin as I pulled them out of my belly; the whole ordeal sucked. Every time I found out that a cycle didn't work I would be devastated. Then every time one of my friends had a baby I would be a wreck for a week or so. As much as I was elated for them, I was devastated and imagined a life of needles and more failed attempts, because I knew I would not give up. Anyhow fast forward to now and I am 18 and a bit weeks pregnant. I still have anxiety that something will happen and I won't end up with a baby in my arms. I get really anxious when I haven't felt him move for a couple days, although I know it's normal. (I have never claimed to have rational feelings about any of this getting and being pregnant thing.) So here we are now. I'm pregnant, Adam has a great new job and we're looking at our options for insurance through his new employer. We can have the same insurance that we had at his old job, but it only covers 50% of infertility visits, procedures and drugs. From what I understand a visit to the clinic is $200, and when I am on the injectable drugs I need to go 2-3 times a week. Which is really really expensive if you have multiple failed cycles.
When Adam was telling me all of this I was really upset. It upsets me that I have to struggle to have a baby, and now we will have to pay so much to get pregnant. It's really not fair when I think of all of the people in this world, or even people who've I've encountered in my life who can just have a baby and not understand the importance of that baby. It's not fair.
Then to add insult to injury I read this article. I want those women to be grateful for what they have been blessed with.

Anyhow just something on my mind.

Hey guess what?

I'm finally pregnant!
YAY!
I thought that this would be the best way to tell the rest of the world. And by world I mean my readers, and by readers, I mean reader, as there only seems to be one.
In any case, YAY!
Apparently poking oneself in the belly nightly for 3 weeks, then getting the most invasive type of insemination, taking a multitude of drugs everyday to stabilize the wonky reproductive system and crossing every crossable body part is all it took! (good to know for next time!)
The estimated due date is sometime in February, (in the middle, and we're really hoping for a non-valentines baby), so I am 2 months pregnant now. I understand that it's early to be announcing anything, but geeze people, I've held off this long! Besides if anything were to go wrong it's not like I wouldn't have written about it here!
So right now we're calling he/she Murp. I came up with that from the first ultrasound where Murp wasn't more than a lump of conception, and I tried to say blob and blip at the same time as I was gasping and thus Murp was christened.
We will find out the gender as soon as we can.
We already have names picked out, but we're keeping them secret. (I have to be able to surprise you all with something, but don't worry they are really good names. After all I am really good at picking names, I mean Bonsai, Chachi? The best pet names for those pets!)
I don't have any morning sickness yet, although I am bracing myself. I get carsick even easier, which I didn't think was possible, but it is! I was having nasty bouts of dizziness which prompted the doctors to worry that it was eptopic, but alas, it was not.
Oh there is only one baby. After all I did have 5 eggs this cycle.
I have no desire to eat, and I finally understand how Adam feels all of the time. (He gets hungry but has no appetite, just a hungry feeling) When I do eat I can't stomach meat well, or any animal product, I only want veggies. I can have a little meat, but a whole meat entree leaves me feeling like super crap. I try to avoid that. Milk is gross to me, unless it's on a frosted cereal, or I put chocolate in it. I don't want ice cream, which is terrible because I love ice cream! I do love popscicles though! (A good byproduct of this is that I've managed to lose 5 pounds!)
I am peeing a lot, and it's irritating. I am very sleepy, last night I slept for 10 hours, and was up for 3 and needed a nap. Sometimes if I am sitting on the couch watching TV I'll just fall asleep, then I'll wake up an hour later, totally confused.
I am hungry, without fail every 2-3 hours, and yet I can't figure out what I really want to eat.
I'm getting weird heart palpataions, but after talking to several doctors and 2 advise nurses, seeing a doctor and getting an EKG, it's a normal pregnancy thing. They aren't painful, just weird.
Hmm I think that's it.
I'm sorry this is so jumbly, but I've been keeping it in for the past 6 weeks! Sigh.
So here's hoping I don't get morning sickness, and that Jamba Juice moves in next door, becasue I really like it.
YAY!

Decisions (edited)

I haven't made it a secret that Adam and I really want to have a baby. So along with our discussions on timing, names and nursery options we've also discussed other more hippy topics. Like co-sleeping, babywearing, breastfeeding and circumcision. For the record I am pro on the first three and vehemently oppose circumcision.
Did you know that when the doctor circumcises a baby, the baby is strapped down onto a board? Then when the doctor starts he has to rip the foreskin off of the baby's penis! The foreskin is attached to the baby like your fingernail is attached to your fingernail bed. It's not until the child is older does it start to detach.
Like reading up on what kind of a stroller I want, I've also researched circumcisions, and I'm glad I'm not a boy! I've read a lot of the arguments that parents give as to why they get them. My favourites are: It's cleaner. So I wonder if the parents have ever heard of soap, and how it's used. Furthermore the majority of the men in the world aren't circumcised and they're still clean. Another argument is that a circumcised male is more protected against AIDS. To which I reply-- condoms. (I've read both sides of this argument, so say it increases the odds and other say it doesn't)
Anyhow here's a website about circumcision and some of the techniques used. Look at the pictures (they're gory, be warned) and then if you're a woman be thankful you are, if you're going to have kids, vow never to do that to your baby boy, and if you're a man who has been circumcised, I'm truly sorry. Finally if you're an uncircumcised man, count yourself lucky!


Edited to add...
Jenny, I know that you did not want to be controversial, and I'm glad that you left a comment. It's nice to read an honest, educated comment. I understand that doctors are gentle and not tearing away at a baby. Ripping was a bad verb for me to use. This whole rant was the product of people just not understanding what really happens when they agree to a circumcision, or agreeing to one without even thinking of the other option.
I was going to add a little anecdote and didn't, but here it is.
When I was in England I worked for a Jewish family and the mother explained to me in hushed tones that her son was a little different "down there". She went on to explain that she didn't want me to be shocked and that although she didn't really practice her religion she wanted to make sure her son went to the private Jewish schools in the area. She seemed, to me, a little ashamed that she had to have her son circumcised. I explained to her that it's quite common in Canada and assured her that I had seen a circumcised penis; she was relieved, telling me that it wasn't as common in the UK. I didn't think much of it then, but I had just moved to England and was still reeling that I was actually there. Later I thought about it and learning that it's not widely done in England made the UK seem so much more prosh to me. Fast forward to now, when I really need to consider it, and reading what I have, I've developed strong opinions. I also wanted to have a link to that website 'cause I am sure that there will be people who would question me on my decision.

Now, is it okay or is it not okay to pierce a baby girl's ears before she can decide for herself?

My bathroom cupboard

This is the view under my sink in the bathroom. The yellow boxes are what the injectable hormones come in. Each box contains 5 vials of saline, in which to dissolve the hormones and 5 vials of the hormones, in a powdered form. The big red plastic thingy is my sharps container- even in my hormone laden brain, I seem to still have the foresight to be safe! The little box on the bottom left with the red stripe is a vial of the hormone HCG, which is the hormone that triggers a positive pregnancy test, and is also given to people like me to force ovulation. Normally the people at the doctors office would inject it into me, but I know how to give it to myself now. Oh the joys! And finally, the big Costco box of tampons. Seeing all of this stuff to try to get me pregnant stacked up next to my big ol' box of tampons just makes me giggle in a manic, exasperated manner.
















The box that the little box of HCG is on is alcohol wipes. Again with the safety. Also if you ever have to inject yourself, always make sure the alcohol is dry before the injecting begins, or it stings like a mofo!
















You can see how many boxes of the menopur I have gone through. And there is more in the kitchen. So. Many. Vials.

Finally the plastic baggies on the left behind the alcohol wipes are my syringes and needles. There aren't many left.

My Big Fat List of non Grievances (Edited)

To counter the one below this.

1. I remember that I have a block of 70% cocoa solids chocolate bar in the freezer.
2. My nurse today said that a year is a long time to try to have a baby, and I don't need to qualify it when I say "I've ONLY been trying a year." (I almost started crying when she said that.)
3. Chachi is doing a lot better, he's really playful and close to 100%. He still can't jump up on to things, but it's okay. He gives me the puppy dog eyes and I help him. He's also loving his new chew toys, which is good.
4. It's Friday.
5. Adam and I bought a tent yesterday, and we're going camping next weekend in the Redwood Forest in the north part of California.
6. One of my friends here is very close to giving birth and I haven't seen her online all day, so I think she might be having her baby today. (edited to add: I was right, she had her baby, and she's just the prettiest little baby!)
7. I'm making spaghetti and meat sauce, with black olives in it!

My Big Fat List of Grievances

Okay, so I'm at a point in my cycle where I am super grumpy. I need to vent and I'm going to do it here, in hopes I spare some random, unlucky Californian my rage, and mostly to spare Adam.
1. I can never find my glasses and I can't see the screen without them.
2. There isn't enough chocolate in the house.
3. Drivers here are convinced that a yellow light means "gun it".
4. I'm covered in an annoying hormone induced heat rash which is driving me crazy with the itchies.
5. My body isn't responding to the hormones and I have to increase the dose again.
6. I told the doctor that I should start with a high dose!
7. There isn't enough chocolate in the house. (this one bore* repeating)
8. I bought a juicer attachment for our Magic Bullet and it's not all that great.
9. I have a killer headache because I had to get up really early so I could get to the lab early and have my blood drawn.
10. My fridge isn't big enough to hold a big watermelon.
11. My car is dirty, and the stupid pollen won't go away!
12. I'm tired of feeling bitchy all of the time.
13. This is the 12th cycle** we've been trying to get pregnant. It's starting to wear on me.
14. Dog poo, cat poo.
15. The grocery store nearest to us doesn't have tahini.


Okay I guess that is enough for now. I have more, but I can't think of them now and I need to make dinner.

* What is the past tense of bear?
** I swear if anyone says that 12 months isn't a long time, I'll magically fly through the computer and strange said person with some random computer cord.

Chachins aka Puppins and another needle update.

Chachi came home yesterday, he was most excited when we left the vet and struggled to get into the car. I don't think I was moving fast enough from him, it was like he just wanted to get as much distance between him and the vet's office as possible.
He was sent home with a mini pharmacy of medications that we need to give him. We still haven't figured out the best way to do it. Today I improvised with peanut butter to try to get him to stop biting us. It was a little amusing. I placed the pill that we have to give him into his throat but he still managed to work it up and out of his mouth. Crazy dog. Eventually the two grown humans were able to out maneuver and over power the weakened 5.5 pound dog. Sad state of affairs really.
I think we're going to have to crate train him. It was something I wanted to avoid, but since he ended up so sick from eating everything, we need to be able to keep him safe from himself. Our plan is to crate him when we can't be with him, if it's for a short period of time, or keep him barricaded in the kitchen. He doesn't mind the crate, it's for a medium dog and he's a small dog so there is lots of room for him, and when he will just be in the kitchen it will be okay too, since it's a huge kitchen. Right now I have him locked in the office with me, and he finally fell asleep. He's rather stubborn, this little dog of mine. He sat next to the office door, giving me puppy dog eyes, sad that I made him stay in one room. I think he's picked up on some of Bonsai's tendencies, who hates to be locked out of a room. It's like they're ganging up on me!
So thank you to everyone who had well wishes for Chachi. I'm so relieved that he's better. It was really scary when they couldn't figure out what was wrong and he kept getting sicker and sicker. It broke my heart when he refused to eat- my puppy, the K-9 hoover wouldn't eat. It's all better now, he's eating like a champ!
I do have pictures of him with his bandage from his IV and pictures of his naked belly, complete with 9 staples. However I can't find where I put them on the computer. Check back tonight and I'll get Adam to help me.

Needle Update.
When I gave myself my needle last night everything went smoothly, except I didn't wait for the alcohol to dry and there was a lot of stinging. I also pressed harder and when I pulled the needle out there was a little pinch of skin caught between the needle and the syringe part. It made my tummy roil a little when it released as I pulled it out. I still have to pause half way through injecting myself. It's surreal to watch the liquid go into your body, it makes me lightheaded and I need to take a couple breaths. I really hope I don't have to go through all of this again. But I don't have my hopes up that this will be the cycle that "takes".
I think I can feel my right ovary, which is exciting because it's the one that refuses to work. Although since I've started all of this I am hyper aware of any twinges or cramps and it could be anything, or I could just be imagining it. I feel like I'm jaded and I won't get to actually enjoy the early part of being pregnant, since I get all of the early pregnancy symptoms every month from the injections they give me to trigger ovulation. So now when I have the classic early symptoms I know that it could mean nothing and I've stopped getting excited, instead I get rather annoyed. They can be painful and I'm tired of the pain for no reason! Oh well, maybe this cycle!
Cheers!

Chachi update. Needle update

Chachi is feeling better today. Adam and I went to visit him a couple times and as the day passed he became more aware. He is still really skinny, and his eyes look even more buggy. It's kinda cute.
We saw the blockage that made him so sick. It wasn't a discernible anything, there was some fluff from the couch, some fuzz from his bed, some bark mulch and some of my hair. Clearly he eats everything. I don't know how I can break him of that. We are going to throw away any of his toys which are stuffed, unless they are holding up really well (many aren't). The vet suggested rawhide toys and rubber toys. Chachi has those, but he loves stuffed toys. He loves to rip them open and tear their guts out. (chihuahuas eat small rodents in the wild and would shake it to kill it then rip it open and pull everything out, which is just how Chachi plays) Anyhow I hope he doesn't miss his toys. As for the couch, I think we're going to try and find some slip covers and if we can't I'll try to make some. It should be interesting!
Along with removing the blockage the vet also had to remove 14 inches of his intestines, which is 20% of the total length, which is a little scary to me. Having so much removed makes him at a higher risk of another blockage, which worries me. The vet explained that it's not uncommon for dogs to have this happen to them a couple times in their lives. Unlike livers, intestines don't grow back.
When they were looking at the blockage on the ultrasound they thought it was just a mass, which is easier to remove and causes less damage, but Chachi's was a long mass, that caused a lot of damage as it was pushed and pulled through his intestines. We were teasing him earlier that he wants to be like his Uncle Ceaser, who is Adam's mom's cat, who ate a polyester string a year ago in November and had something similar happen. Ceaser was a little less lucky and lost close to 3 feet of his intestines. However he is a fully recovered kitty, complete with his starlet complex.
When we were visiting him tonight, one of the techs suggested that we give Chachi some food since he might be more likey to take it while we are there. So she prepared a tablespoon of babyfood for him and gave it to me to give to him. I sat Chachi down in his little cage and gave him the plate of food and he gobbled it down in record time. I was insanely happy to see my little dog eat, especially since I was doing everything all week to get him to eat. So, it looks like he'll be better now. He's going to be the toughest chihuahua on the block with all of his scars. He will have three scars on his belly now, all acquired in less than four months.
Thanks for all of your good wishes, and I'll post pictures soon.

On to my needles.
I know I shocked some people by talking about it last time. I'm sorry.
Today was a little better, I hesitated less, but it still sucked. It also stung a lot, but it's a short sting. I can't get over watching the needle enter my skin, it's so weird and surreal. The needle is tiny and sharp, so there is no resistance going in, but I still don't want to push down too hard when I actually depress the plunger. I expect I'll get better at it.
I learned a couple things tonight:
1. Before I fill the syringe with saline I need to first fill it with air, and inject the air into the bottle so that I will get the right amount of saline. I didn't do that last night and I ended up not getting enough saline, but I think I still had enough of the dose. (I mix the saline with the powdered hormones.)
2. When pulling the needle from your body, pull straight out. I pulled at a slight angle today and the tip of the needle caught on the inside of my skin and kinda scratched/ popped it's way out. It gave me the shivers.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll get everything perfect.

Of the Puppy ICU and Needles.

Yesterday wasn't a good day at all. It was up there with the no good, terrible, very bad days. Chachi hadn't gotten any better and the vet had no clue what was wrong. I called them frequently to keep them up to date and ask what else I could do. I was frantic because he'd gone from puking yellow bile to puking nasty green something. The vet techs first told me a couple days ago to stop feeding him, which I wasn't and so they just deduced it was coming from his intestines. Then yesterday I called again freaking out because he still wasn't eating and he had gotten so weak he couldn't jump up onto his chair or the couch. When I called them they suggested that I force feed him. We did. He puked it up 45 minutes later. So we made another trip into the vet. And we waited, then we had to leave because I had a doctor's appointment, so we made an appointment for Chachi for later in the evening.
When we returned to the vet Chachi was the same, (him and Adam sat in the car while I was at the appointment, more on that later) we were scurried in, and when they weighed him it showed that he'd lost half a pound since Saturday, which is a lot when you're only 6 pounds to start with. The vet decided to do an ultrasound, so he had to shave Chachi's belly, and now he's naked- again. The ultrasound showed that he had an obstruction is his intestines and it would require surgery. So Chachi was admitted to the ICU because he wasn't stable enough for surgery. He was really dehydrated and too weak. They started him on IV fluids and he was set to rest for a couple hours. The vet did the surgery at midnight and called us at one to tell us that it was a lot more complicated than expected. Apparently whatever he ate shredded a short section of his intestines and they had to remove a portion. The vet has no clue what is that he ate, but they did save it for Adam and I to look at, it might make sense to us.
Today Chachi is stable, but they won't start him on food until tomorrow. He has to stay in the ICU until tomorrow at the earliest. We do get to go and visit him though, which is nice.
Poor guy, it's only been four months since he had his abdomen cut open, and here we go again. And he's naked again! It's like he's destined to have a bald belly.

(The next part is about me and my getting pregnant shenanigans, there is a little TMI. You've been warned.)

My doctor's appointment yesterday was a giant pain in the... lower bits. I am starting the injectable hormones this month, but before they'll prescribe them I have to have my ovaries checked to make sure that they aren't covered in cysts. (they weren't, which makes sense since I don't have PCOS) The doctors want me to have the surgery that I need before I do this, but I don't want to waste another month. Hopefully I won't need it at all, because, frankly I don't want it. We're hoping that my stubborn ovary will work and I won't need the surgery at all. So everything was clear and I was able to get the prescription. When we finally got home I prepared a needle and realized that I lost about a quarter of the volume, so I did it again and I was extra careful that there were no drops and I still lost the same amount. Adam explained that because I was mixing a powder into a liquid the volume could change. I think it's odd that the volume would be less, but I'm not the science-y one in this marriage.
Anyhow I get the needle all ready, and then panic. I don't like needles, there is no way on this green earth that I could plunge a needle into my delicate, very white flesh*. Adam assures me that I can. Then he refused to do it for me. (seriously if a husband won't stab you with a needle....) So I sat down and cleaned the spot, pinched a section and I hovered the needle over my target. And panicked. I can't even watch when I get blood drawn, how in the world can I stick a needle into myself? Adam, always supportive, told me to hurry up. Sigh. I made a lame attempt and pulled back at the last moment, then I plunged again, but too slowly. As I watched the needle disappear into me, I got all queasy and had to take a deep breath, but I still felt the needle going through the various layers. I was clearly going too slow. When the needle was all of the way in me I injected the hormones. The plunger was hard to depress and I was too scared to use too much pressure. Eventually I was able to inject it all and pulled the needle out. Then I watched as a little droplet of the fluid came up out of the hole I poked into my skin. It dried and I survived.
I still have to do it four more times.
I better get a baby or two out of all of this!
*I have to give myself the injections into my stomach which has never seen the sun, so the skin is really fair.

Okay I'm off to visit Chachi.

The Hard Life of a California Orange.

Today I went to an injections class.
What is an injections class you may ask?
Well, it's a class where I learn how to stab myself with a needle and inject myself with potent hormones.
Serious fun.
Adam didn't want to participate in the class, which is fine and good, these are they kind of injections that I can give myself, although I will show him, because I'm not so sure it's something I'll be able to do well. However on second thought, maybe it's like applying mascara, it's not so easy the first couple times, but after stabbing yourself in the eye with the wand you catch on fast. So maybe after jabbing myself too slowly or injecting it too quickly I'll get the finer, finessier points down. (oh yes the puns are all intended)
So the hard life of an orange.
You can't expect a room of hormonal women to actually learn on themselves? Actually that would be kinda funny since we have to inject it into your stomach, in the best part. The nice poochy part. We would all be self conscious and trying to hide from each other, yet trying to not seem like we are, and still trying to learn the ins and outs of injections. (seriously I kill myself!) I think the whole scene would make for great SNL fodder.
Back to the orange. After we prepared our needles and loaded with saline we get to assault the orange. After several jabs to get the pressure right, the angle right and insertion speed right we get to inject said orange with the saline. Which promptly comes out of the holes you just poked it with. Kinda amusing. But I am hormonal and weird things amuse me (and simple things turn me into a raving banshee).
While I was jab, jab, jabbing my orange while everyone watched, I envisioned the condom banana from sex ed. There should be a support group for fruit used in reproductive assistance, or lack there of. I didn't mention this in the class. I am sure that it would have been inappropriate. I often feel the urge to laugh when something is stressful, and cracking lame jokes makes me laugh. However this class was serious, we all have our happiness invested in it, I don't think jokes would have been right. But oh they were flying around my head.
When we started talking about the side effects I got a little more sombre. Apparently the crazy hormoned mood swings I have been on were only a warm up for what's to come. (Let this be a warning if you're going to come and visit in the next couple months, it's not my fault.) We also discussed the rate of miscarriage which is high, but only because we are so closely monitored that our pregnancies are discovered very early, while there is still a high chance of miscarriage. It's difficult to gauge this rate in the general population because they aren't monitored as closely. Also we talked about ovarian cancer, and this may or may not increase your chances. There is some research saying the more you ovulate the higher your chances are that you can get it. That's why being on birth control pills can lessen your chances. Or be me and have ovulated a handful of times in your whole life.... Anyhow on these drugs you don't ovulate you OVULATE! (caps and exclamation are needed) Which leads to another side effect. Multiple births. In the regular population the chance of twins is really small, with these drugs it's 25%, which is HUGE! The chance of triplets or higher is 5%, which isn't as huge, but still higher than the normal average for twins. We also had to sign a form stating if we would consider reducing a pregnancy to twins if there were 3 or more embryos. (more than 3 makes for a really high risk pregnancy) I was shocked at this. Your treatment can be effected if you aren't willing to reduce a pregnancy, they could skip a cycle if you have too many follicles. I checked that I would be willing, but really, I don't know. Lets just wait and see what happens. And the next time you eat an orange, remind it that it's the lucky one, destined for digestion, unlike the oranges in the REI clinic's staff room.

Good Articles.

This one
That one

Warning Labels

Today I went to get my new prescriptions, and I thought I would share the warning labels on the bottles with you.

On Metformin:
take with food they really mean it too, it sucks if you don't
This medication may cause an uncommon, but serious condition called lactic acidosis. Seek medical attention if symptoms develop. This one scares me because from what I understand lactic acidosis is a really bad case of lactic acid build up. Lactic acid makes your muscles sore after you work out, and I work out hard, so sometimes I'm sore, and I freak out. But since I'm still alive it must be from working out, not the drug.
Severe or prolonged vomiting or diarrhea may cause dehydration. Call your doctor if these occur to see if you should stop taking this medication. I don't get this, but I am nauseous all of the time
Do not drink alcohol. It makes your blood sugar lower and makes you even more pukey. But I haven't temped fate to find that out first hand.

On Femara:
This medicine may be taken with or without food.
May cause drowsiness. Alcohol may intensify this effect. Use care when operating a car or dangerous machinery. Tammy, I know you have something to say about this.
Pregnant women should avoid contact with this medication. I find this mildly amusing, since it's being used to get me preggos.
May cause dizziness.

On Doxycycline: (an antibiotic I need to take before I have my hysterosalpingogram)
Take this medication at least 2 hours before or 2 hours after magnesium or aluminum products containing calcium, iron or zinc.
Medication should be taken with plenty of water.
Do not lie down for at least 30 minutes after taking this medication.
You should avoid prolonged or excessive exposure to direct and/ or artificial sunlight while taking this medication. I should anyhow.

Clearly the reason I am so bitchy three weeks of the month is because my body is desperately trying to save itself from an onslaught of evil in pill form.

Explicative!

So today mother nature lets me know that I'm not pregnant. For those playing along, that's bad news in Chez Berkan. I'm at the point now that I know that I need to keep truckin' along, but the drama queen in me just wants to throw her hands up and wail out empty threats at the universe.
I'm so tired of this, I wonder how couples can do this for years? It's taking all of my strength now, and I know we haven't been trying that long. Which brings up another issue, I am aware that we have only been trying for 9 cycles, but it's still hurts, ya dig? Very well meaning people* have pointed out to me that I haven't been trying that long, and I feel guilty for getting so wrapped up in trying to get pregnant. I want to know when it's appropriate for me to start being sad, after a year, two, seven? I really try to not talk about it too much, but it has consumed me, and who I am. I've always been a drama queen but with the added hormones, it's intensified and sometimes I need to talk about it, or I might explode. Poor Chachi can only listen so much, and Bonsai sleeps all day. I don't like to blog about it in a serious manner for a variety of reasons that I can't really put my finger on, mostly pride I guess.
So anyhow I'm sad. So sad.


*there have been a few people that have said this, I'm not mad at anyone and I am not meaning for this to be an attack or even a chiding to anyone. I understand that it's said out of pure love, and I am happy that I have friends that care for me and try to make me feel better.

Note to self.

When ordering a prescription refill, remember it's metformin,* not methadone. You will save yourself a lot of embarrassment that way.


*in case your freaking out thinking I have diabetes, I don't, it's a fertility drug too....

To Card or Not to Card.

So the obvious, tomorrow is Valentines Day. Tomorrow morning I have an appointment with a practitioner at the RE clinic. I feel like I should make her a card, but I don't know what to write in it. After all, what do you say to the person who wields the hoohah probe?

Hormonal?

I woke up today feeling wiped out. Yesterday after I got the email from my landlord about parking and the garbage I was a little irritated, which is evidenced by my post yesterday. I was able to think a little rationally yesterday and realize that I was getting rather upset over something kinda trivial, so I talked to Adam about it, and he made the connection that fertility drugs+ Deadra= hormonal Deadra. He explained that he can tell when I start a new cycle of which ever drug I am on for that month, and my sanity lapses a little each time.
In my mind I try so hard to not let myself fly off the handle and manage my emotions well. I conscientiously think that I am feeling like ripping person/ pet X's head off, and it's hormones and the situation isn't that bad. But, according to Adam, I guess I'm not handling it as well as I though, OR I am handling it well and it could be so much worse. In any case I felt bad about how I reacted regarding the email. I didn't do anything stupid, I just wrote the blog and moaned to Adam, moved the car and dumped out (not our) garbage from the half full bin into the other full ones. Then I moaned to Adam more about the insanity of it all and that if it keeps up we're moving.
Then today, one of the backyard ladies came to the front door and told me not to park so far up the drive way 'cause it's her yard. I told her that I didn't know that she had an agreement with the landlord that we're not allowed to pull up further but I would try to accommodate her. She left and I went inside and fumed.
So suffice to say, I was livid again! I mentioned yesterday in the blog that the driveway is narrow and long, and we have wide cars. At the end of the drive way it gets a little wider, about 6ish inches, so I have more room to move the car over. Also I park next to the garbage cans, so apparently her "yard" is the garbage cans... I don't get it. Anyhow I don't know how I am going to park my car over enough to satisfy her and back enough where it's narrow, and still leave me enough room to open my car door without making myself into some kind of contortionist.
Do you think I'm right to be upset?
Also the back yard, outside of our fenced part is weeds and a large ground cover juniper plant, hardly a yard they make use of.... I told Adam that if all of this crap keeps up, I will seriously consider moving, I don't want to have this ordeal for a couple years.
Or I'm hormonal.

And at least I'm not living in a converted garage at the back of some lot.... heh heh.

Mish Mash.

Blogger has a beta option now, so I've switched over. If you can't post a comment, that could be a reason, try signing up, or fidgeting with it, I have no clue how to fix it right now. I'll see what I can find out.

Milly is good. Which is yay. Last month when the RE was pokin' around he saw something bad, and apparently it sorted itself out, which is good, 'cause there was a lot of pain when the sorting was happening. The procedure, was uncomfortable. There was a moment of white hot pain, it wasn't localized, it was everywhere. Not fun at all. But I survived. Apparently my uterus doesn't like being filled up all at once, which makes sense, when one gets pregnant, it's gradual. Anyhow good news, but I'm not going to exhale yet, 'cause he couldn't really get a good view.

The rainy season started here. Arg, I don't like the rain. I think I prefer snow over rain. But I reserve the right to change my mind. The rain also makes for hellish driving conditions. Since the freeways are often at a standstill, especially on the ramps there is an oil accumulation, so when that gets wet, it's slick, slick, slick. Today on the way home, a car totally lost control right in front of me as he was exiting on to the freeway, off a ramp. I swerved, sharply into the other lane, and luckily it was empty. It's a little scary to think what would have happened if I couldn't have been able to swerve over. I was at highway speed, and the guy was speeding, shooting up the ramp like a banshee. When I saw him coming up I noticed that he was really speeding, and that at his speed he would merge before I got there, but then he lost control and nearly flipped. It looked like he was ricocheting off of thin air, in my lane, the merge lane, and almost into the fast lane. Crazy scary. He didn't roll, and I didn't hit him. Which is good, but scary. Adam warned me about how the roads can get slick here and I was thinking of it today when I was driving, so I was mindful of it. Apparently this guy wasn't. I wonder what would happen if it were to ever snow here. Oi, I will not leave my house!

Brace yourselves....

Tomorrow I go into for a saliene ultrasound. It sounds a lot more luxurious than it is. The doctor is going to fill my uterus with saline and look at it. I am not looking forward to it at all. I do not like speculums and the ultrasound probey thing, kinda hurts. But let's not dwell on the ickyness of it all, and how I will be grumpy during the whole thing. Instead I need to name my uterus, 'casue frankly there might be some talking about it, and well I don't like calling it, "it". So I hereby dub my uterus, Milly.

Tomorrow Milly is going to get a nice saliene spa treatment. Lucky her!

More on that.

Going on a holiday will not get me pregnant.
Wishing, hoping, praying, soul searching, will not get me pregnant.
There is something wrong with the bits involved and they need to be medically fixed, no amount of ohmming will change that.
This isn't me being a bitch, it's me being real.

Dear Santa, take two*

*Blogger and I had some issues.

My Dearest Santa,

Please find enclosed my wish list for 2006.

Santa, this year was very exciting! Apparently I got one of my wishes from last year, and yes he puts the toilet seat down, thank you! We were actually married twice this year, you know for extra luck. It was pointed out to us that 50% of marriages fail, so if we were married two times, with each wedding giving us a 50% chance of making it work, then we now have a 100% chance. But really Santa, we didn't need the 2nd one, because we knew we were all good anyhow.

So this year Santa, I have another list.

1. A Dutch oven set. I accidentally let the rice cook too long one night and it ruined my large pot, so I need a new one, and Dutch ovens are so lovely.

2. A digital camera. The one we have now is a little old and creaky, but it still works, kinda.

3. A laptop. It seems that Adam and I are always jockeying for the computer, so another one for me would be great!

4. More sweaters for Chachi, in size XS. Oh he is so cute in an argyle sweater!

5. Shoes. A girl can never have too many.

6. A baby. Well a pregnancy would be great, 'cause after all Santa, I've been really good this year. I make Adam's dinner every night, I make sure his laundry is almost always done, and well, puh-lease?

Well Santa, that is my list for this year. I am sure that there are more things, but I can add them later. I think Adam has a list too, but mostly just bring him gadgetey stuff, he loves it.

love,
Dea.