Cryptic? It's medical shorthand for my pregnancy history: the number of times I've been pregnant (gravida), the number of times I've given birth (para), the number of late (after 20w) losses, the number of early losses, and the number of living children.

It's also a clue.

Labels: Feeling 'Thinky', FET 1

My husband, usually entirely oblivious to cycle timing and completely in the dark about my POAS h-e-double... you know, called me yesterday from the grocery store to ask whether I need some pee sticks.

I almost fell over.

He was suddenly my dealer, offering a quick fix to keep me hooked.

And if he's willing to buy pregnancy tests, maybe next time he'll be offering to buy tampons. ...just not too soon, I hope.

I went to my acupuncture appointment this afternoon -- a fill-in acupuncturist because my regular one is still not back to full-time, and the hours that she is available were almost completely booked for the week (though I will see her Thursday). She did a bunch of pregnancy maintenance and a few relaxation points: the top of my head, outsides of my wrists, upper abdomen, knees and calves. Fascinating details, I know.

Following my appointment I headed off to Wal-Mart to find some Equate brand tests. Calliope had recommended them highly to me (congrats Cali!). I had also done some reading and it looks like a fair number of people find the FRERs give either light or negative results in the early days of testing, so the plan was to use them side-by-side to compare.

So while scouring the shelves below the condoms and above the yeast treatments, I had a deja vu. I had, in fact been there a year and a half ago looking for Equate tests and learned from the pharmacist that Wal-Mart (Canada) had at that time recently stopped selling them. Argh! So I came home with a couple of the same no-name One Step pregnancy tests that I had before, but instead of being made by that obscure Ontario pharmaceutical company that now actually has a website, they're made by Unipath. Can you say Clear Blue Easy?

Oh yah, so I tested this morning. Really, could I have resisted with three FRERs in the house? I used one of the new ones that my sweetie brought, preferring to save the borderline expired one for a more certain day. It didn't matter though; it was negative.

And just having fished it out of the trash to double-check, it remains negative. Though if I hold it up just the right waaay.... Nah, it's just the shadow of where the reagent should be catching that elusive pink dye.

So I felt much crappier this morning than I had expected I would. You can tell me all you want that it's really too early anyhow, and I do know that intellectually, but I guess I was just hoping for a nice surprise. The acupuncture helped a bit, but now I'm wondering what this slight malaise and ever-so-barely-there dull crampiness is supposed to mean.

Labels: FET 1, Rants and Shoot-Em-Up Stories

It wasn't until yesterday evening that I thought to check whether I even have a suitable stick in the house onto which to pee.

I do.

It's a FRER, the one remaining of a two-pack and the brand I hope truly has the highest sensitivity (as low as 6.5mIU/ml in one study I found) of all pee-sticks. The box is stamped EXP AU 08, so it's squeaking in for usability -- not that I would throw it out; I'd pee on it expired or not.

So the temptation is here.

I'd actually like to add to it by going out to buy a few more so that I can start the morning torture tomorrow.

But what I really should do first is determine how I'll feel depending upon the results and decide whether it's acceptable -- you know, having the knowledge that much sooner.

If it's positive on Monday (or Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday...), of course I'll be thrilled and the arrival of a new baby in the family will be nothing but wonderful. I won't steal anyone's thunder -- I've got a few losses behind me after all and know better than to make announcements, though I might be tempted to drop an obscure hint if the opportunity arises.

If it's negative it'll be more complicated:

Tomorrow (7dp3dt), a negative would still be tolerable and I could shrug it off as probably a singleton. Tuesday likewise. Perhaps even Wednesday because as I've mentioned my beta at 12dpo with twins was just detectable by most tests.

A negative on Thursday, 10dp3dt, would seriously start to worry me. I could no longer doubt the accuracy of the test. I'd likely withdraw from my cycle buddies (and probably my husband, though he's the type not to notice anyhow) to mope. Friday is the day my sister-in-law is scheduled for her c-section; if the test isn't positive by then, I'll be feeling miserable for myself and when the call comes of the baby's gender, weight, name, etc. I'll likely crawl into bed for a little cry.

So what if I don't know one way or the other of my result at the baby's arrival? Well, I'm certain to continue to be entirely preoccupied with testing and questioning whether I'm pregnant or not. That won't matter much to my brother and his wife as the hospitals here no longer allow visitors on the postpartum units except for parents and siblings of the baby plus one designated person (a grandmother I expect), so it's not like I'd need to re-focus.

So is the agony and obsession of an extended two-week-wait better or worse than dealing with a negative? I know that not knowing allows for hope, but I could really be wasting my time hoping if I could instead find out for sure one way or the other. It's not like not knowing and hoping is a blissful place of rainbows and angelic choruses, right?

Labels: FET 1, Rants and Shoot-Em-Up Stories

While I lay on the transfer table, a picture came to my mind: a chubby little boy sitting up but facing away from me. He had silky pale brown hair with ever the slightest wave and delicious little fat rolls spilling down his arms and thighs. I don't know how I knew that he was a boy, I just did.

I haven't been able to shake that image.

Labels: FET 1

I needed to refill my Estrace yesterday to make it through the two-and-a-half-week-wait. At the clinic pharmacy, they went about filling scrips for stims and cycle maintenance, and when I was called back, I was casually told that there would be no charge for my refill -- the manufacturer had donated meds and for no apparent reason, I was to be a recipient.

We pay everything out of pocket, so it was a wonderful surprise, but it took only a moment for me to wonder whether there was something karmic in operation.

At the beginning of June I donated almost $1500 in stim meds that had been carefully stored in my fridge (alongside the potatoes and onions). They would have expired before I ever got around to another fresh cycle. When I brought them in, it was with a bit of a cringe knowing their cost and under the impression that no tax receipt would be issued for non-cash donations.

So not only did I walk away with a free bottle of little blue pills, I learned that the only reason I don't yet have a tax receipt is because the donation program coordinator was still digging herself out from under a mountain of paper when she left on holiday, but will soon return.

I can only hope that my good fortune carries through the rest of this cycle.

Labels: FET 1, Rants and Shoot-Em-Up Stories

Usually I have a few contented, non-obsessed days after a transfer -- a satisfied feeling of finally getting on with things, perked with the optimism of a fresh attempt and its happy possibilities. Just not this time.

These embryos have been on my mind without end. Every conscious moment is filled with thoughts of what stage they may be at, whether they're developing at all, and where they might be: freefloating, nestling into my lining, and today, hopefully, starting to implant and make real connections to my body. I keep hoping for a little twinge to pinpoint this moment, followed quickly by telling symptoms to confirm it.

I've been scouring posts from the winter before last, searching for clues to tell me that all is proceeding as hoped, and being frustrated at a vague recollection of not blogging about every little symptom for fear of boring any visitors from wanting to return.

I've been planning days to POAS (as early as Monday -- 7dp3dt) and then fearing that I will actually do it -- to pee or not.... I'm losing it. The biggest hindrance to me testing is the pending arrival of my niece/nephew by the 1st. Something I noticed last time, however, was that my desire to POAS seemed directly correlated with my optimism about actually being pregnant. Perhaps I have that optimism, but this early on, it's rather unfounded. Combine that with the fact that at 9dp3dt my beta was only 63mIU with twins... I really ought to wait.

*sigh*

Labels: FET 1, Rants and Shoot-Em-Up Stories

Well, for the excitement of the rollercoaster's climax, it was a rather relaxed day; I lazed about all over town.

My acupuncturist couldn't meet me at my RE's clinic because she was scheduled to see patients at her own through most of the day, so I drove to see her mid-morning for a serene hour with the needles and splashes of the little fountain in the corner. From there, I drove to the RE's clinic with a very sedate little buzz from the acu. In the waiting room I completed the Sudoku from today's paper, was called in for transfer, rested on the transfer table for another ten minutes, and after a big pee was escorted to a recliner to hang out for another half hour. Once released, it was back to the acupuncturist for another session. Almost four hours of just lying around -- busy day.

I was almost disappointed that the embryologists only had to thaw two to get two for transfer. We have three day-3s and two blasts, and if this cycle fails, then we're likely to use the two blasts, which leaves one lonely day-3. Poor thing.

The RE doing the transfer and the embryologist both were rather optimistic about my odds of success, however. Knowing that I have kids already and that these embryos are from a batch that produced healthy babies, combined with the fact that one embryo survived completely intact (8 cells, yay!) and that the other had more than 50% survival (5 cells of the original 8), made them quite confident. So I guess we'll see.

My beta is scheduled for August 5th. Anyone want to do the math on that one? Yup, 18dpo. This is normal for my clinic, however it's an insanely (and IMHO unreasonably) long wait for something the new FRERs* claim to be able to tell me a whole week sooner! At the very least it's not the pee-in-a-cup test that most everyone gets. I managed to get into the repeat pregnancy loss monitoring rolls and at least that upgrades me to a blood test.

I'm going to try to be patient though. One of my brothers is expecting his first baby via c-section on August 1st, and I'd really rather not be dealing with a possible negative when the baby arrives -- you girls know about those daggers.

*Incidentally, if you'd like a $2 off coupon for one, just follow the link.

Labels: FET 1, Rants and Shoot-Em-Up Stories

Lining check today: very good.
Transfer scheduled: Monday.

Curiously, at my lining check, the RE told me that mine was measuring one centimetre. I did, however, clearly see 1.4 on the ultrasound machine as he was doing the measurement. That's a big difference, though ready-to-go is ready-to-go I suppose. My acupuncturist did a study in partnership with my clinic last year and during my visit with her this afternoon she said that it was very frustrating to her that the clinic does this with all patients. They figure that writing 1cm in the chart is sufficient, but for her study, the actual figure would have been significantly more insightful. Can anyone shed light on why the clinic would take such an imprecise shortcut? Wouldn't it take less effort just to write the actual number rather than remember to write one centimetre if it's 10mm or higher?

--------------------------------------------------------------

So I'm feeling like I'm neglecting you lovely people who come to visit me here. I frequent a bulletin board where I've been doing much of my musing lately and none of it has found its way here, so I'm now making a conscious effort to change that. Let's see what the next few weeks bring....

Labels: FET 1

of the way to a year, S&L are happy kids, shoeless and made up with a bit of lunch.

I popped over to the public health clinic to get them on the scale as babies here don't have scheduled checkups between six and 12 months. I'm not worried, only curious.

L is 16lb2oz -- holding on to the same 10th percentile she's been at since she was born. She's creeping up to 25th for length, so it's all good.

S is a solid 20lb3oz sitting right at the 50th percentile for his age -- not surprising since he's been there since about two months having shot up from 10th at birth. For quite a while he was below 50th for length with fat rolls spilling everywhere, but surprisingly, he's now nearly at the 75th percentile for length -- stretching out, though it's hard to tell when he's next to his much leaner sister.

All that bulk puts him at a disadvantage though. L is significantly more agile and far quicker too, leaving S with a perpetual mouth full of dust. They reach some milestones ahead of the average and others behind, but I'm not worrying there either.

I'm enjoying this age all over again. They're becoming their own selves and discovering how the world works (though figuring the electrical can wait a while yet). Interesting and interested little people.

Labels: L, S

Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.
- Elizabeth Stone

As parents we make ourselves vulnerable because our children themselves are so vulnerable. We offer our lives with the opportunity to save theirs. Women strong-arm cars to free crushed children. Men puddle in tears at terminal diagnoses.

It would be so simple to only worry about ourselves, like when we were young and impervious to all bad things.

So why do we let our hearts go walking? I can't articulate it, but there's an infinite amount of wonder and love tied up in it.

And now that I'm on the track to set another piece free (CD1 -- finally! 4 days late!), I'm feeling a surprising amount of trepidation mixed with the excitement. Perhaps it's from a level of disbelief that this cycle I've thought about for so long is finally happening. Or perhaps the momentousness of the comitment to the decision.

Labels: FET 1, Trying to Conceive