I'm a Big Loser. So Why Do I Feel Bad?

Last year I started The Biggest Loser at work. Participants pay each month, weigh in, and the winner each month gets a cash prize. (This year, we doubled the entry fee and half of the money is going to the local food bank.)

Last year, I didn't win at all. This year, however, I am sweeping the competition. For the month of February, I lost 17.7 pounds and was winner of $95. This month, since I did my IVF, I told myself I would be happy to just maintain. I wasn't pushing myself to lose, I didn't exercise much, and I ate like crap (including a whole box of Tagalongs and a piece of pudding pie two days ago.) Well, when we weighed in this morning, I had lost 6 pounds. 6 pounds in a month is not great for someone as big as me. I was SURE someone would beat me.

Well, no one did. I am the Biggest Loser AGAIN.

But, I am not rejoicing. Why? Because I am a crazy, co-dependent kook, that's why.

I feel as if someone else should have won. After all, I didn't do my best. AND, I organized the thing. Now, I am super self-conscious, and I am thinking everyone is scrutinizing me because I am the one taking down the weights and doing the math (which I triple-checked to make sure.) I think I need to chill. After texting my husband that I had won but I felt guilty, he texted back, "F that. U r a winner." Now that's a great husband.

I just wish I could feel better about this.

Learning to Be Child-Free

For 5 years, I have been resisting life without children. I have seen my infertility as a curse, a roadblock in the way of what "I was born to do," a punishment from God.

I have been trying to change my way of thinking. Maybe this child-free existence isn't all bad. Who am I to tell God when I am ready to be a mother? Obviously, he knows more than me. So, I am going to try to make the best of this situation by not making myself crazy and depressed anymore by thinking about the negative side to being child-free. Instead, I am going to think of the reasons I am glad to be child-free (at least for now.)

1. When I am trying to lose weight, I cannot have snacks in my house. Every parent I know has a kitchen stocked with snacks. If that was my kitchen, I would be 300 pounds!

2. I can't function without a full night's sleep.

3. I love to sleep past 6 a.m.

4. I can go where I want, when I want, without making sure the baby is dressed, fed, in a car seat, blah, blah, blah...

5. I can go out in public without constantly worrying that my kid is behaving or occupied.

6. My husband and I get along great! (I watch many marriages fall apart after children.)

7. I can get drunk without worrying that I might have to tend to my children later.

8. Teenagers. 'Nuff said.

9. I can get a shower or a bath alone.

10. I can have sex with my husband without watching the door 0r worrying that I will hear, "Mommy, what's daddy doing to you?"

11. I can make plans without first saying, "Let me see if I can get a sitter."

No fair

My husband's dad is very sick. He has stomach cancer. It is amazing he is still alive, because when he was diagnosed in 2008, the doctor told him 3 months. Almost two years later, he has fooled everyone!

But, he is now so weak that he needs constant supervision. So we are making arrangements. The doctor is saying he may pass within a few months.

This is bringing back many terrible memories for me, as we watched my dad succumb to ALS two years ago. As we were walking the other night, my husband and I talked about how horrible it was to watch my dad deteriorate. He said, "It's no way to live." I cried. Right there on the sidewalk in front of the crazy lady's house. I don't like to remember my dad suffering.

Greg's dad has become like my own father, and I am afraid of losing another one.

It's just not fair that we have to deal with Infertility and the death of both of our fathers, as well as my illness, all in the span of 3 years. Not fair at all. I just want to throw a temper tantrum like a toddler. "NO FAIR! NO FAIR!"

But, as my mom will so chirpily remind me every time, "Life's not fair." So, we will trudge through...

Back to the Drawing Board

Well, I was right...

My beta was negative. Again.

Perfect lining, perfect embryos, not-so-perfect result.

I am convinced something is going on that I have not been tested for. Perhaps an autoimmune response. With my history of unknown autoimmune disease, it makes sense to me. Call it women's intuition, but I can visualize my uterus bitch-slapping those poor, beautiful embryos to death.

Well, making lemonade of the situation, there are many things I use to help myself through BFNs:

1. I am now looking forward to losing more weight. I have lost 60 pounds since I was in the hospital 3 years ago, 25 of which have been in the past few months. I won The Biggest Loser at work, losing 18 pounds in the month of February. Despite my IVF cycle, I managed to lose almost 10 pounds this month, too!!! (That is what I am shooting for as soon as my menstrual bloating goes away.)

2. I am going to take charge and call another clinic today, one that boasts 60% success rates for patients under 35. I feel really good about moving forward in this fashion. A new set of eyes, a new philosophy, a new hope.

3. After a failed cycle, it makes me feel better to picture all of my babies coming out as teenagers. Not so cute.

4. I am going to enjoy some wine this weekend. Cheers!

5. I am going to get back to my husband. We are still so in love (more than when this started), and I am going to work on giving him more attention. I am so wrapped up in myself during the 2ww (a.k.a., Death March, as my friend KB so wonderfully puts it) that I forget about him. Isn't this all about us, anyway?

Afraid It's All Over

I am afraid IVF#4 has not taken. I am feeling cramping that gets more and more pronounced as I get closer and closer to the time of my PIO shot, then disappears after the PIO. I am pretty sure AF wants to show, and the PIO is keeping it from coming. This is the same pattern as all three other failures, and I am not going to be convinced otherwise. People say, "It could be implantation cramping." But I am pretty sure that is not the case. It is the same exact cramping, in the same style, each time beginning about 6 or 7 dp3dt and lasting until I finally get the word of a negative and am told to stop PIO.

I am also feeling very guilty because the cramping began right after I had taken a migraine medication that is in Class C. I am afraid a property of the medication which causes narrowing of blood vessels could be to blame.

My husband is being supportive of my emotions, but I am tired of him wanting me to be positive. I am just trying to make it to Beta Day.

Feeling Blah

Perhaps it is the fact that my husband snored all night while my cats played home run derby in my bedroom, or maybe it is the migraine that I went to bed with that just wouldn't quit, but I woke up this morning in a baaaad mood.

I have spent the last few hours brooding & feeling sorry for myself. It is amazing how I was so happy two weeks ago, and now I feel like my world is crashing.

My husband keeps telling me to "think positive," but it is difficult to even think that anything positive could happen to me after all of the crap I have been through. Even though I know it won't make it any easier, my subconscious wants to protect me. I keep visualizing my evil uterus shooting down those poor, innocent embryos before they ever had a chance.

I have been looking into adoption, but it is so expensive.

It's exhausting to be positive.

To Pee or Not to Pee?

That is always the question.

I have made it to 4dp3dt, and I am wondering if this weekend will find me in a line at Rite-Aid buying up all of their HPTs like the HPT junkie I am. I have not POAS for months, and I am a bit excited at the prospect of again having a reason to do so.

However, the last time I POAS it was disastrous. Hole in the center of the universe disastrous. This is because one test turned into 12, because my husband and I saw a line. A faint line. I had never seen one before, and it was a momentous occasion. I did a dance in the kitchen, called my closest friends, took pictures of it and e-mailed them across the country to a fellow IVF-er, took more tests, did more dances, took more pictures...

Needless to say, I was super crushed when I got the BFN call, and I swore off HPTs. I have regarded them as the enemy.

But I am considering buying one again.

HPTs are like heroin to me. I know I shouldn't, but it keeps nagging me until I do, then I can't stop.

What should I do?

The Things I Google During the 2 Week Wait

Okay, so I had my embryo transfer on Friday, and all weekend I stayed away from the computer, but then Monday comes and I am back at my desk.

And, the desire to Google all sorts of nonsense is so overwhelming that I finally do it.

Today I Googled these phrases (for real):

"Can sex harm embryos?"

"Embryos and Orgasms"

"IVF Success Rates" (as if I don't have them memorized for every clinic in the country.)

"Are eggs different each month?" This wasn't clear to Google, as it gave me sites on the freshest eggs to buy, so I tried: "Genetic Differences in Eggs from Month to Month"

"Cost of Surrogate" (This was when I went through the "I know it didn't work" stage of my day.)

"Implantation Failure"

"Antidepressants and IVF Failure" (I stopped taking mine after my last failure, wanting to "cleanse" my system.)

And guess what?

After all that, I know nothing more than when I started.

Ain't Google grand?

TMI, I know.

Okay, so as of a few days ago, I had not pooped for 4 days. Between the progesterone and the percoset they gave me after my extremely painful embryo retrieval in which my doctor tossed my right ovary around like he was making a pizza, I could not crap.

I tried everything.

Grapes, Colace, Fiber-One cereal, anything I could stuff in my mouth to get pooping...

Alas, no shit.

Then, Murphy's Law happened: I had to drink 40 ounces of water the morning of my transfer. I wasn't allowed to pee because they need your bladder to be full.

So, we're walking into the hospital for my transfer, me trying not to pee, and I get the urge to go #2. Are you serious? I have never been able to poop without peeing, too. But, the poo was finally going to make it's appearance.

So...I went, only peed a little, and it felt AWESOME.

Just had to share...

Making Lemonade should not have been the title of this blog.

When I began this blog, it was before I had actually been dealing with infertility very long. I still had hope.

But now, the hope is gone. Perhaps it is the Progesterone talking, but this once positive person has become gloomy and pessimistic.

No longer wishing to make lemonade out of my life's lemons, I think maybe something more appropriate is in order.

Perhaps I could stuff the lemons down the throats of women who get pregnant within the first year of trying or maybe I will squirt some lemon juice in my RE's eye. After all, shouldn't he have to suffer a little, too?

Raving Psychobitch

Well, yesterday I went a little insane. No, not a little. A lot.

It all started with the severe pain I felt from the doctor playing with my ovary the day before. Having depleted most of my sick days, I had to go to work the day after my retrieval in which 27 follicles were aspirated. And, since I work with kids, it is not possible to just sit at your desk. OUCH.

The day went further downhill when I called for my fertilization results from Wednesday's retrieval, expecting good news. For my first IVF, retrieval garnered 18 eggs, 15 fertilized, and 9 were transferred in three separate attempts: 2 fresh, 3 frozen, and 4 frozen, respectfully. That was a pretty good harvest, and my doctor tweaked some things this time so that I would have even better results.

Wrong.

When I called, the lab tech told me only 12 were mature, and only 5 fertilized. WITH ICSI.

Whaaaaaa????

She kept saying that the lab was very disappointed with these results and she doesn't know why it happened this way. Then, she tried to console me by saying, "Well, remember you only need one."

Seriously??? That set me off. "Apparently, I don't need just one," I said to her, "because they put in 9 last IVF and none of them took, so this is no consolation to me."

She said, "Oh. I'm sorry."

Thank God my free period is at the end of the day. I had to leave.

On the way home, I stopped to get ground beef and bread and my bill was $6.66. No shit. Hello, beelzebub. I was sure you had a hand in things. Did you have to rub it in? I also needed to stop and pick up my FIL's birthday cake, and nearly shot daggers out of my eyes at the poor old woman baker who informed me they only take cash. So, after running to the cash machine and finally picking up the cake, I was able to go home and freak out.

Sobbing uncontrollably, spit running out of my mouth onto the floor, I stuffed half a loaf of bread into my mouth, ate two large cookies, and began to create my favorite meal: spaghetti and meatballs (I had been dieting, so this all was a big deal to me.)

The turmoil continued with the irrational fear: I just KNOW this cycle is going to be a bust. So much so that I was considering canceling my transfer on Friday.

Then, my husband came home and I sobbed again. He held me while I stirred the marinara, and I began to feel some peace.

Why do I have to go through this shit? I just want to punch a wall. This is sooooo not fair.

Catching up...

Wow! It has been a long time since I wrote. Must catch up...

After 3 unsuccessful IUIs (which I later found were pretty much a joke for someone in my predicament), I went on to the great IVF.

Oh, yes, the great frontier of the once highly-anticipated IVF. They put in two perfect 8-celled, A quality embryos. I remember thinking, "This is it! I will be in maternity clothes in no time." I began making plans for my pregnancy. My retrieval and first transfer were at the end of August, and I was hoping the baby would be born on my birthday... The whole two-week-wait was filled with wonder and excitement. Many HPTs were bought, and I remember rushing home to take them...

On the day of my blood test, I felt like it was an eternity. Then the BFN call came, and I was devastated. I cried on the phone to the nurse, cried to my friends who had been waiting with anticipation, cried all weekend...

Then I got myself right back up for a frozen cycle. 3 embryos this time. All great quality, also. 8 and 7-celled beauties.

I was a little less excited, but still looked forward to the future. Maybe we could tell everyone at Thanksgiving! That would be great!

Then, another BFN.

I cried, I ate Ho-Hos, I drank lots of wine.

Then I pulled myself up again.

We went in for another frozen cycle with 6 embryos left, thinking 3 this time, three next time...

Well, 2 died.

So we put in the last 4.

The dreaded BFN. In the same week we get the great announcement that my cousin's wife is pregnant. Grand.

Exhausted and emotionally spent, I decide that I can at least enjoy the holidays...

In January, I went to be checked for blood problems, and they found some clotting issues, including MTHFR. I was pissed. My doctor couldn't have tested me BEFORE all this?

Yesterday I had retrieval for the next round of disappointment.

Stay tuned...