Competing for the "Triple Stripe"

                                                                

Sorry I haven’t written in awhile, ladies.  I promise to catch-up on everyone’s posts as soon as possible.  I had no news to report over the weekend, as I was participating in Mind Games the entire weekend (playing and judging 30 board games in 40 hours…UGH!).  I managed to get through the games (with a total of 7 hours of sleep between Friday morning and Sunday afternoon)…and I didn’t cry or scream once…my hormones remained in-check.  The experience left me exhausted and sore, but it did keep me from obsessing over this cycle and, for that, I am thankful. 

Today I received good news (finally).  My uterine lining is AWESOME!!!  The highest measurement that my clinic gives is the “Triple Stripe” (when the two uterine walls are so thick that they touch in the middle, creating an image on the ultrasound that looks like three stripes).  “Triple Stripe” occurs at 12-13 mm.  After one week on Estrace, my lining is at 10-11 mm, and I have at least another week and a half on the meds, before transfer.  I feel like I should cut out a construction paper blue ribbon, or silver star, to paste on my shirt when I achieve “Triple Stripe” status.  I need something to acknowledge my entrance into the elite class of infertiles who are blessed with perfect uterine linings.  This morning, my nurse (who is all too familiar with my uterus) was very excited.  She said it was the best she had ever seen my lining look…from a size and quality perspective.  Yeah!  So, I’ll continue what I’m doing and weather the side effects for a little longer, knowing that I am already going into this cycle with a leg up on previous cycles.

All that I need now is an update on how the donor is doing.  The donor started her stimulation medication on Thursday, so it has only been 5 days.  My stimulation always took around 19 days, so I assumed it would be too early for the donor’s ultrasound to show anything.  But my nurse this morning confirmed that my donor was having an ultrasound and blood work today, and she said that I should be getting a call from the donor coordinator, updating me on the donor’s progress.  The suspense is killing me. 

In the meantime, because (so far) we are on schedule for a transfer late next week, my intralipid administration has been set up for this Friday.  This will be our first time trying intralipids and I’m oddly excited about doing it.  Who knew I would ever get excited about getting fat pumped into me through an IV? 

I think The Prince summed it up best in marriage counseling this weekend, when he said that he is confident about this cycle working for us because everything we are doing is different than what we tried in the past.  To him, “different” feels like “good” and it gives him hope.  He’s right.  Every aspect of this cycle is so different from our past cycles, so it feels like the outcome has to be different as well.  I haven’t felt this positive or excited about an IVF cycle in a long time.  I really missed this feeling.  It feels good to hope again.

*******UPDATE*******

I contacted the donor coordinator by email, after not hearing from her, and I said I wasn't rushing her but I just was wondering if we were going to get an update on our donor's progress after each of her appointments, or if we would only be told if something changed the schedule. 

Her reply - "The donor was in this morning for her first ultrasound since starting her medications.  She will return Wednesday and Friday.  Please contact me both days between 2 and 3 if you need an update." 

Irritated...but still desperate for information, I replied "Thanks.  I'll call Wednesday and Friday.  Was everything okay today, though?  I know it is still early." 

Her reply - "She has follicles developing.  They are very small.  Good night!!!"

Am I wrong in feeling like this woman seems abrasive?  The three exclamation points didn't help...but I guess it could have indicated excitement and not irritation (which is how I read it).  The last time I talked to her, she was so nice...but now we are back to normal again.  Am I being too sensitive?  I guess I'll find out how things are going on Wednesday.   Oh well...I'm not going to let it ruin my Hope High.



Positive Polly Doesn't Live Here Anymore



Last night, I went to the support group (hereinafter “group”) held at my infertility center for the first time since November.  I have been on a hiatus because I had already befriended most of the group members during the last two years, and I had watched as, one-by-one, they graduated out of the group when the stork visited each of their houses.  I just didn’t feel like I could handle watching another “class” of IF gals move on in their journey, while I sat watching from the support group sofa.

But, for whatever reason, I decided to try going to group again…last night.  I’m glad I went.  It was nice to be in a supportive environment.  However, everyone at the group was new, except for my one friend (left behind from the second round of group’ers that got pregnant…we’ll call her “Patience”).  Patience has had four miscarriages in a row and, somehow, she is still standing and still getting her butt to group each month.  Patience deemed us the “senior members,” at the beginning of the meeting.  We were the only two veteran IF gals.  I think the title made me feel a little conflicted.  You never want to be the “senior member” in an IF group.  You want to be a “graduate.”  But, there is also a weird sense of respect that goes along with “senior membership” status.  You almost wear it as a badge of honor…something to prove how much you have survived…a testament to your strength and resiliency. 

Newbies looked to Patience and I for guidance last night, and our words carried a lot of weight, so we had to choose our words carefully.  I really censored a lot of what I said and what I shared because I was trying not to be too negative, given the crowd.  There were so many women there who had only just received their infertility diagnosis, or had just survived their first miscarriage.  They were all so hopeful that this was going to be a very short journey for them.  They all truly believe that they will get pregnant this month (or their next cycle) and will leave all of this sadness behind them.  And some of them will be right…their journeys will be short…but most of them will be wrong.  They don’t yet realize that they are in a marathon, not a sprint.  How do you tell someone to prepare themselves for the worst without quashing their hope?  As the group went on, you could see that a couple of women, frequently the ones who had suffered losses, exhibited signs of cracks in the hard exterior of hopefulness they’ve cloaked themselves in to get through the awfulness.  I didn’t want to be responsible for making those cracks deeper…but I also don’t want to mislead anyone.  Patience and I worked had to be realistic, discussing ways to prepare emotionally for the possibility that the journey may take longer than anticipated.  But we also tried to remind them that a lot of women had graduated from the group and a lot of women just need a little help to get pregnant.  There is a reason there are only a couple of senior members.  We are an anomaly.

As I watched the effect that our words had on the newbies, I was saddened.  I heard the contrast between my outlook and theirs.  They are all a “Postive Polly,” certain that sunshine and rainbows and lots of babies are right around the corner…waiting for them to round the bend and trip into their “happily ever after.”  I’ve become a “Negative Nelly.”  I don’t believe there are rainbows and sunshine around the corner.  In fact, when I get to a corner, I peek around it to make sure I’m not walking into a wall of heartache and emotional devastation.  I’m not excitedly running to see what comes next.  I’m standing back and wondering if it is even worth taking another step.  This journey has been too long, already.  Please let it be over soon…so I can go back to being Polly.