I need a pep rally.

I’m trying to muster up some enthusiasm for this IVF cycle. No easy feat, let me tell you. I’m worried that my depression and general stressed-out state of mind will have a negative impact on the cycle.

I have been reminding myself how truly blessed I am, even in my infertility. There are women the world over that are infertile without the treatment resources I have. Yes, we’ve sunk ourselves into massive, overwhelming debt trying to get pregnant. Yes, I’ve watched infertile months turn to years as I struggled with unskilled doctors and a bad fit at an IVF clinic. Yes, I’ve endured countless tests, surgeries and procedures only to see instead of progress, additions to the list of reasons why I probably never will get pregnant. But how much worse would it be to never have had those opportunities? What if I, at three years into this game, was still just trying to get pregnant the old-fashioned way ‘cause that was the only option I had?

Yikes. As much as this process has sucked, I can’t imagine not knowing what I know.

That’s supposed to make me feel better, but it doesn’t. In fact, being aware of my myriad blessings only makes me feel like more of a shitheel for being depressed.

I hate it, but I’m just not enthusiastic about this cycle. I’m dreading the poking and the prodding, the side effects, the disruption in schedule, the imposition on my sister and her girlfriend, having to board the dogs, sweet jeebus, just a million things.

And that worries me. I want, want, want to be positive. I want to believe it could work. I want to be excited at the possibilities. I want to take really good care of myself with the hope that it will make a difference.

But I’m not, none of those things. I don’t know how. At best I hope to be able to maintain a stiff upper lip. Just. Get. Through. It. And that’s a less than ideal way to approach an IVF cycle.

I'm worried...

Worried about my marriage. I’ve been having too many dark thoughts about B. lately.

When we first fell in love I saw in him a solidity and reliability that was so, so appealing. Here was someone I didn’t need to control or micromanage, since he was a man fully capable of caring for himself. Quite the departure from my first husband, who didn’t handle day-to-day life very well which, in turn, required me to handle it for him.

The question now is if B. is capable of caring for me with the same skill. I have been left physically and emotionally alone for so much of this infertility process that I harbor resentment as deep and wide as, well, a harbor. I have no idea how to rid myself of these feelings. In all likelihood they’re just going to grow, since I’m predicting that his involvement in this IVF cycle will be less than ideal.

Lately I find myself absolutely exasperated with his stubbornness. And you know what? He’s mean. Not to me, or the dogs, or anyone he knows personally, but in a vague, general sense. He has no sympathy for the downtrodden, the unfortunate, or those with less skills to navigate life. This negativity, coupled with my own experiences with infertility, has changed me, and not for the better. I am not the warm, caring person I was three years ago. Likely as not, it’s anger that fuels my day, anger at my situation, anger at B., anger at everything.

I’m not blaming B. for my mental slide. He’s just a piece of the puzzle.

Part of me thinks he’s got too much on his plate to have the time or energy to care for me as I need, he’s caring for me in other ways by working hard to secure our future. But if there were less on his plate, would he be more involved? Is he really working so hard for me, for us, or is it more that he’s trying to prove something to himself to make up for the perceived lost years of his youth?

There's no doubt he’s working hard. A sixty-hour a week Army job plus a rigorous full-time grad school program leave him very, very little free time and even less energy to go with it.

I wonder what will be left of us after infertility and grad school pass?

There is so little left of me now.

Today is my official cycle start, by the way. I did my first Lupron shot this morning. Sticking myself with that dull-ass needle (really not meant to puncture a vial then skin) felt like the first step up a very tall mountain, one I have already climbed and seen the view from.

B. knows today is the start of my cycle. He’s working this weekend and won’t be back until tonight. Let’s see how many days it takes him to ask how the cycle is going...

This is what I get for being cocky... UPDATED

And I quote:

“B. gets any bug that passes within fifty feet of him. Me? I never get sick. Largely because I work at home and am not exposed to the sheer volume of germs most people are. Still, I come in contact with whatever B. brings home and manage to not succumb.”

Mother Nature has decided to make a big, fat liar out of me. I’m sick, and have been for a few days. My pride is such that I’ve actually been hiding the depth of my illness from B., since I have annoyingly and repeatedly trumpeted to him about my seeming imperviousness to germs.

Mother Nature says, “I’ll learn ya, but gooood!”

It is unusual for me to be ill. I’m wondering if it has anything to do with the fact that I was on steroids a month ago?

I’m seeing a doctor this afternoon for a throat culture to rule out strep. I’m supposed to start Lupron and steroids this Sunday, but I’ve seen enough television commercials cautioning you to be wary of infections while on steroids to know this could be a speedbump in my cycle plans. If it weren’t for the cycle I’d skip the doctor’s visit and ride this out, piece o’ cake. I pretty much feel like a wimp for seeing a doctor, but what if it is strep throat? It sure as hell feels like it...

UPDATED

I’m not 100% sure I’m a believer in this diagnosis, but the doctor I saw today thinks I have the onset of epiglottitis. What, you ask, is epiglottitis? Here’s some of what Dr. Google has to say about it:

“Epiglottitis is most common in children between 2 and 6 years old and is usually caused by the bacterium Haemophilus influenzae, although it may be caused by other bacteria or viruses. Although rare, epiglotitis can occur in normal adults. Because it is rare in adults, it may be easily overlooked as a diagnosis. The condition can progress rapidly. Epiglottitis is a life-threatening disease that begins with a high fever and very sore throat. The epiglottis (the flap of cartilage at the back of the tongue that closes off the windpipe when swallowing) swells and can obstruct breathing. Respiratory distress increases rapidly as the epiglottis swells. Immunosuppression (from medications or diseases that reduce the action of the immune system) can predispose adults to epiglottitis.

A life-threatening disease? Ummm, yeah. I will admit that my major motivation for going to the doctor today, beside potential complications with my IVF cycle, was that I didn’t sleep much last night as my throat constantly felt as if it was closing up or collapsing on me and I couldn’t breathe. Fun!

One strike against the diagnosis: I don’t have a high fever. I have had a bit of a fever, but it’s been nowheres near high.

One detail in favor of the diagnosis: that stuff about immunosuppression predisposing adults to epiglottitis, well, can you say dexamethasone?

I dunno. I just wanted to rule out strep throat. We did that, but I’m still stuck taking a course of antibiotics I probably don’t really need.

Oh well. If I didn't take the meds and stayed sick, I'd kick myself. If I take the meds and stay sick, then we know it's not epiglottitis. If I take the meds and get better? That's the best possible scenario, irregardless if the antibiotics are the cure or not.

Isolated.

I sent out an email earlier this week to three of my girlfriends asking if anything was going on this weekend. I’m about to quit drinking for this IVF cycle, and I thought it would be nice to reconnect with my ladies before then.

I received one dinner invitation out of that email, for tonight, with my friend that has battled infertility herself. I’m grateful for the invite, if for no other reason than she and her husband are awesome cooks.

The two other pals? Well, one, let’s call her Lady A., responded that she was booked all weekend, sorry. Lady B. said, hey, we’ve got a babysitter and we’re going to be at this party on Saturday night sometime after ten, if you want to come.

Later today I got an email digest from a group we all belong to. Lo and behold, Lady A. had posted a message about the same party Lady B. has invited us to, saying she & her hubby will be there after they go out for dinner with Lady B. and her hubby.

Okay...

We’d love to go out to dinner with those two couples, especially since they’re sans children that evening, but we’re not invited.

Ouch.

I’m aware of how isolated I’ve become. It just hurts to be reminded of it.

The good news is...

...I’m not in jail. The detective from the Marietta, Georgia police department finally got in touch with me. Seems The Little Car That Couldn’t was involved in a hit-and-run accident in an apartment complex. Apart from being chided by the detective for not keeping my license plate when I sold the car, it appears that I’m off the hook, liability-wise.

Anyhoo, is it just me, or is there a rash of pregnancies among my fellow infertility bloggers? I’d link to ‘em for your reading pleasure, but frankly, I’m lazy. I’m happy for each and every one of them, honest, but am wondering who is going to fill their place? Not that I have any plans to stop reading their blogs, but a pregnancy blog is a different animal than an infertility blog. Is there a new bumper crop of infertiles ready to start blogging?

Whatever the case, let’s hope this pregnancy trend continues. Not that I expect that bus to stop at my house, or anything.

Three things I love right now...

1. Red wine.
   
   Giving up alcohol has always been one of the most unpleasant parts of my infertility. A night at home cooking dinner and watching television is not complete without my regular bottle two glasses of wine. In honor of this next IVF cycle I will be cutting out the booze soon, so every sip now is appreciated and enjoyed.
   
   
2. A friendly pharmacy staff and insurance coverage. I’ve been working on compiling the meds for this next cycle and am very grateful that my insurance is paying for at least some of the drugs. Over time I have learned the inside & out of my pharmacy benefits, so I know which hoops we’ll have to jump through and which drugs are lost causes. The staff at the local infertility pharmacy has been patient and kind during this protracted and frustrating process. They deserve a pan of brownies or something. Too bad anything I bake has no chance of making it out of the house.
   
   
3. My new car. Have I mentioned lately how much I love it? It doesn’t seem real or possible that it’s actually mine. Much like I imagine having a baby would feel.

In other much more dramatic news, I got a voicemail today from a Marietta, Georgia police department detective asking for information regarding a hit-and-run accident with a vehicle registered in my name. Interesting, no? It’s got to be something to do with The Little Car That Couldn’t, which, if you remember, I parted ways with a few weeks ago for $500 cold hard cash. I don’t even know the name of the guy I sold it to,* but I do know where he works, seeing how he was a mechanic at the shop I was taking the car to.

I’m rather naively assuming that since I sold the car my liability is nil. Let’s hope that’s the case.

*Okay, I know, I should have gotten his name at the very least, but I was so damned excited to be getting rid of that car I wasn’t thinking too clearly. I was unsure what was supposed to happen to the license plate so I just let him have it...clearly another lack of brilliance on my part. Whatever, the car is GONE!

Two things I hate right now...

1. My hair.
   
   When I met B. it was short, above the ears and seriously low maintenance. B. saw a few pictures of me with long hair in my younger years and made it known that he very much liked how it looked. Four years later and it’s back to being long.
   
   It’s the kind of hair that’s capable of looking nice, it just seldom does. If I were to apply a lot of product, blow it dry and flat iron it, it’d look pretty darned okay. Unfortunately, I am not that kind of woman, or at least not very often. Most days find it twisted up in a knot at the back of my head, damp from the shower.
   
   I am tired of the constant frizzies tickling my face and how sore my head gets after wearing my hair up all day. It’s a pain in the ass in the convertible Bronco. The Little Car That Couldn’t had no air conditioning, so a drive meant being whipped in the face with hair, no matter how well secured you thought the hair was. Don’t even get me started on what a drag it is on the motorcycle...
   
   I long for short hair, but won’t cut it off just yet. I’m afraid B. will find me less attractive. I’ve become ugly in so many other ways that I feel it necessary to cling on to one thing I know remains attractive in his eyes.
   
   After this last IVF cycle I was alarmed to find my hair shedding out in clumps. Turns out that’s pretty common from the fluctuating hormones. Add another irritant to the list: finding hair everywhere. You haven’t lived until you’ve had to fish around in your nether regions for a stray hair that’s stuck there.
   
   
2. B. being sick. He’s had some sort of upper-respiratory funk since the middle of last week. He thought he was getting better, but ended up coming home from work at lunch time today ‘cause he felt so shitty. B. gets any bug that passes within fifty feet of him. Me? I never get sick. Largely because I work at home and am not exposed to the sheer volume of germs most people are. Still, I come in contact with whatever B. brings home and manage to not succumb.
   
   I’ve had a difficult time caring for him lately ‘cause frankly, he’s not much cared for me when I’ve been suffering through one infertility related process or another. Doesn’t inspire one to be very nurturing, does it? Before you feel too sorry for the poor guy (and you should), I have been good and nursemaidish today - only because for whatever reason, today hasn’t sucked and I’ve been able to think about someone besides myself for a few hours.

He doesn’t know it, but I’m slowly getting peeved at him again. He has had zero interest in the details of this IVF cycle that I’m starting, and even less interest in the news that I have some sort of clotting disorder - one that puts me at a higher risk for heart attack or stroke. You’d think that’d grab his attention, but you’d be wrong.

Yeah, he’s got a lot on his plate. Yeah, he’s been sick.

Whatever...

What the hell is wrong with me?

I feel so incredibly rotten again today. I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is that is making me feel so depressed, but I’m absolutely miserable.

I hate this. Am I ever going to feel normal (or as close to normal as I ever was) again?

I’m thinking that after this next cycle is over I may need to consider taking some medication for this. I have always, always thought I could pull myself through anything, and I’ve never seriously considered taking antidepressants before, but I can’t go on like this.

I am sick of feeling this way.

MoTHerFuckeR?

Received an interesting email from the the nurse coordinator at my IVF clinic. And I quote:

“I also wanted to let you know that we received the results from the thrombophilia panel and you were homozygous for MTHFR and heterozygous for PAI-1 and B-Fibrinogen in which Dr. ****** is recommending Folgard, ASA and Lovenox 40 mg.”

I’m not 100% sure what it means, exactly, except that we’ll be adding a few more drugs to the mix this next cycle.

I’ve been doing some research online about the results. Normally I am very good at interpreting doctorspeak gobbledygook, but for some reason the majority of information I have found about this stuff is not only hard for me to interpret, but seemingly conflicting. When reading posts from other women with the same or similar results, the only fact that shines clear through is that there is a lot of disagreement on how to treat, or even if to treat, people in this situation.

I’ve got a call into the nurse at the clinic who will hopefully be able to shed more light on the subject. I’m not sure if we should be able to interpret these results as a potential cause for my problems getting and staying pregnant. It’d be nice to have something concrete to blame, though.

My period did finally show up in the middle of night Wednesday. I start birth control pills on Monday. Back on the horse!

Cramps...

...but no period. Odd. Usually I start cramping and bleeding simultaneously, but not today. I feel like a horse in the starting gate of a race, pacing and chomping at the bit to get this show on! There’s plans to be made, drugs to be procured, and much discomfort and unpleasantness to get through, all dependent on the onset of my period.

With infertility you’re either dreading getting your period or hoping to (if only to move on to the next treatment cycle). One thing I am not going to say this cycle?

Maybe this will be my last period for a long time!

Uh, yeah. Doubtful.

Where, oh where, did my period go?

It’s not late, so to speak, but considering that I ovulated over two weeks ago, it’s been a hell of a long luteal phase. I ovulated on day 10 of my cycle, which is freakishly early for me, and I’ve been spotting for a few days now, but still, no period.

No, I’m not pregnant. I’m not even going to pee on a stick. B. didn’t get home until four days after I ovulated, and I seriously doubt my feeble egg held on that long.

I wouldn’t care so much about getting my period except I’d really like to be able to start making plans for this next IVF cycle. I won’t be able to get a calendar from the clinic until I get my period. I’ll need to buy plane tickets to Los Angeles for both B. and I, which I’d like to do as far in advance as possible. Also, B. will need to ask for leave at work, which is always a major headache breeze.

I’m not exactly relishing the thought of another IVF cycle. I am grateful for another opportunity, yes, but I’m not that good at waiting anymore. Seems I’ve used up a lifetime’s allotment of wait, and now it’s a struggle just to stand in line at the bank, much less wait to do this next, most likely final, IVF cycle.

I had an unpleasant realization the other night: I’ve been crazy on and off my whole life. True, I have had some good years scattered amongst the train wreck that is my life, but when I look back I can’t escape the fact that there have been years of my life lost to depression and seriously unhealthy living. It seems almost like a pattern...crazy/depressed, make dramatic changes to life, things get and stay better for a year or two, then I start sliding down into craziness and depression again. It’s not instantaneous or quick, but I end up at the same place time and time again. My Worry Du Jour is what if this particular crazy sticks? What if this is how I’m going to be for the rest of my life? What if I never have a good year again? Is the person I’ve become the person I’m going to continue to be? Yikes! That thought is enough to make me crazy...oh yeah, too late.

Prozac, the vehicle.

I have had some dark, dark days lately. I’m not sure what the cause is, other than general infertility angst. Thankfully, I was able to pull my head above water on Saturday when I found the car I wanted and snatched it up with no hassle whatsoever.

Introducing the replacement for The Little Car That Couldn’t, my 2001 VW Jetta Wagon.



It’s a V6 with a manual transmission, just as I wanted. Power everything, sunroof, nice! I can hardly believe it’s mine. I suffered with The Little Car That Couldn’t for ten long years. I finally have a car that I picked out, that I want, that suits me, and that I love.

Even just peeking out the window at it sitting in the driveway has been an instant pick-me-up this weekend. I wonder how long the car will work as an antidepressant?

I’ve got to come up with a name for it. All my vehicles are named, further proof that I really am a dork. It just doesn’t seem right to have such a relationship with something without it having a name.

And oh yeah, it's not at all lost on me that the car is a total Mommy Mobile. Funny, considering that I'm working on getting my head around the fact that liklier than not, we'll be living without children.

On to other topics, thanks, Lindy for the tag. It’s my first tag - I feel so special! Wish the fifth line of my 23rd post was more special, though:

The other is Yahoo’s Military IVF group.

Ho-hum. I was answering a question someone had commented on an earlier post about the wait to get into Walter Reed’s IVF program. The whole post is downright boring, albeit short.

Walter Reed seems like it was a million years ago. Or, like I wasted a million years planning and waiting to get in there, only to have my IVF cycle cancelled at my first appointment after baseline.

Onward and upward, right? Upward, as in above water, for today.

Everything I touch turns to shit.

Really.

How is it even possible for one person to have so much bad luck, and so much bad luck around them? I long ago gave up believing that random coincidences actually mean anything, but if they did, well, it’d probably be a good idea for me to find a bomb shelter and hunker down for the next, say, five years.

I won’t bore you with the catalog of negative things in my life right now; suffice it to say that there are many, many things dragging me down.

Maybe this is my proverbial rock bottom. It sure feels like it. God forbid it gets worse...

I feel bad for B. His first wife was a nutjob, and here I am being psychotic as well. Poor guy can’t catch a break.