Nauseous and Nervous

Tomorrow is our ultrasound! We will be 6w5d. I am nervous now that the day is upon us. I haven't had much time to emotionally prepare for it because I've been so nauseated and quite determined to find a way to manage it. I haven't even been anxiously counting the days until the ultrasound because just getting through one day is a major accomplishment right now. I read something yesterday about the importance of stellar nutrition during the first trimester and it launched me into action. Today I forced myself to eat a bagel, a small yogurt, some nuts, part of an apple, a few bites of a fruity granola dessert, about six cheezits, a bowl of chicken noodle soup made with egg noodles, and a small portion of ice cream. That's the most I've eaten in one day in quite a few days. And I wouldn't exactly call that stellar. But I think eating more helped keep the nausea at bay, to some degree. I hope my little embryos are still growing in there. I guess I'll know a lot more tomorrow afternoon.

The appointment is at 3:15 with our Atlanta RE. I haven't seen or spoken to her since last November after I got back from the one-day workup at CCRM and she was exhibiting a bit of professional jealousy. That particular day, we talked on the phone, and she actually told me it was a business decision that they don't do labs or monitoring for out of state patients. She said it was an inconvenience for the staff. By the end of the conversation, she had offered to "go to bat for me" with her colleagues at the practice. (She is one of the founding doctors of this practice... She can do whatever she wants. I knew this.) But I played along and following our phone conversation, I sent a very passive agressive email saying it is a lot more than business to me and for them to refer me to CCRM and then not continue to monitor me was contrary to the wonderful care they'd provided me during the previous 15 months. I also thanked her profusely for going to bat for me. About a week later, my nurse emailed and said they would do the monitoring. When I scheduled my first monitoring appointment, the scheduler acted like it was no big deal at all, so I casually asked, "So do you all do this pretty regularly for patients going to out of state clinics?" She said yes.

I was pretty hurt by this whole thing. I felt like my doc had kicked me in the stomach the day she said they wouldn't do the monitoring. She actually made me cry. She is the warmest, most friendly doctor I've ever had. She has amazing bedside manner. But she's human and I guess she got jealous.

I could have scheduled this appointment tomorrow with another doctor in the practice but I asked for her because I'd like to "feel the love" for her again. I don't want that kick-me-in-the-stomach phone call to be my lasting impression of her. She did pretty much talk me in to going to CCRM and giving them a chance, after all. So I'm turning the other cheek.

Obviously, my nervousness tomorrow isn't just about the ultrasound. I hope she acts like a grown up! I'll let you know. More importantly, I'll let you know the status of numbers 1 and 17. This seems surreal!

Six Months (At A Time)

I selected the wrong name for this blog last spring. We had been accepted into the Attain program, which gave us up to three fresh and three frozen IVF cycles for the price of about two cycles. I actually thought that I could do three fresh cycles in six months. (I didn't anticipate the opportunity to do a frozen cycle because my doc said it was unlikely.) After two unsuccessful cycles in five or six months -- the second of which was a complete train wreck -- Attain kicked us out of the program and refunded us 70 percent of the money. Financially, we came out ahead of where we would have been if we paid for both cycles outright. Emotionally, I was feeling pretty defeated. I had been counting on that third and final attempt.

After the failure in August, my doctor in Atlanta suggested we consider egg donation, adoption, or a second opinion. I was ready for adoption. My husband was ready for egg donation. So we went for a second opinion.

In Colorado. She sent us to the best in the country -- the Colorado Center for Reproductive Medicine and Dr. William Schoolcraft.

I approached the second opinion with Dr. S. matter of factly, in order to protect myself from further disappointment. I really wasn't open-minded about the possibility of treatment at CCRM because I couldn't imagine that they could offer anything I hadn't gotten in Atlanta. I just wanted him to tell us that our Atlanta doc was right so we could move forward and try to sort out the adoption vs. egg donation dilemma. Well I was wrong. Schoolcraft seems to have a quiet "bring it on" kind of attitude about our case. He thinks he can help us. After a phone consult, a whirlwind trip to Denver for a one-day workup (we were literally in Denver for about 16 hours!), and a follow up phone consult, we decided to try one more IVF cycle.

I'd like to summarize how I came to that decision in another post -- I'll do an Atlanta vs. Denver Infertility Smackdown -- because if anyone from Atlanta ever reads this blog, what I have to say might be interesting reading.

So here we go again. I should start stims in five days if all goes well at my appointment on Monday.

Back to the blog name change. Six Months (At A Time) feels right to me. I thought of other names like "Babytrain to Crazytown" or something like "Womb Available" or "Race to the Womb"... But this name will remind me to live in the present and not get too far ahead of things. There are many ways that my thoughts don't take things Six Months At A Time. Sometimes I dwell all too much on how old we'll both be when our unconceived child graduates from high school or how old the child may be when we die, because no child should lose a parent too soon. I lost my dad when I was 33 and that was way too soon for me.

I like the idea of imposing a six-month limit on my musings about the future. If this were truly possible, I would not dream about next Christmas and whether I'll be enormously pregnant and unable to travel to see our families. I would not think about my colleague who has confided that she is also TTC and I would not worry about which of us is going to succeed first and how we would work out our possibly overlapping maternity leaves (my boss would absolutely freak out about that one).  At this point, I would not worry about the possibility of a late-term miscarriage or multiples that weigh just a couple of pounds apiece.

All of these things are part of the grand reality check of trying to conceive a baby through IVF at age 39 with a soon-to-be 50 husband, but they aren't things I should ponder frequently or seriously.

Here's to Six Months (At A Time)!