Fade to black

It's ectopic. Nothing else to say.

Gray Land

Welcome to my world of gray. I've been to this strange land before. It's eerily familiar and this world seems to really like me despite my constant attempts to escape it. It envelopes me with it's oblique suggestions until I have no where to go. It lingers and pauses, stops, moves backwards and then forwards as if playful gestures to me. It's doesn't like to settle on one color, or rather non-color. That would be too easy, too clear, too definitive. It likes to dance with tints and shades that suggest and imply. It's all innuendo. As I am surrounded with no way out, I will wallow in gray land where the dangers are clear. The longer the wallowing, the more chances of unnecessary hopes. But since in gray land there is no where to throw your stake into the ground, I'll just have to float and hover and drift through all this gradation. 

Beta went up to 710. Nothing yet seen on ultrasound. Next ultrasound is this Friday - that should determine which end of the spectrum I am on and I will finally fade to black or white.

My Scientific Conclusions

Science is rational. Experiments are performed to gather numerical data from which relationships are derived, and conclusions are made. As my study shows above, beta patterns that follow the same past data equal predictable outcomes. My third beta went up from 68 to 145. Just like my IVF#1 ectopic went up on the third beta. So yes, it doubled, but if you connect the dots, all you get is a broken heart. 

So why do I still read through beta bulletin boards trying to find stories of success with low rising betas? What is it about humans that either need to torture ourselves or are innately hopeful? I've read about a zillion online posts with the same desperate plea of finding hope in low rising betas. I tend now to just skip to the last post where I inevitably find the "So sorry" because the person's story always ends in ectopic or miscarriage. Sure, there were a handful with the success stories of a vanishing twin or just slow rise that made it to a heartbeat, but those posts also tend to stop before really knowing if they made it to a live baby. 

Right now, miracles and faith don't seem to work on my graph. I tried to fit them in but they certainly aren't data points, they are generally off the charts. So I find myself trying to stay one step ahead of this doomed outcome. I am constantly trying to reconfirm I am right all the time that this is going to end badly because it gives me some satisfaction. It makes me feel like I am in control and that I've won. Yes, it's like some arm wrestle between all this bad evidence against that sliver of unknown we call the future. I can somehow take all my bad evidence and slam the arm down saying that you can't fool me. I can predict the future and I can be ready for the news so you can't hurt me. 

This is opposite to my husbands outlook, who's graph would be quite different. He would have my beta points plotted and then say, "Waiting for next step." So simple, so clean, no mess, just very open to what the future brings. I am amazed by that. I can only be this Tasmanian devil of cynicism whirling around saying, "I told you so, I told you so. I knew this would never work." So what is the next step you ask? Monday we meet with our RE and I assume he'll do another beta and ultrasound. It's probably too early to see anything, so we probably won't see anything. Then he'll say come back in a couple days and we'll look again. Then we'll do another ultrasound because my betas will continue to rise and we will see nothing. Then I will have to make the hard choice of getting surgery and losing a tube or going through the hell of the methotrexate shot and wait endlessly for beta to get to zero, all the while worrying I might rupture. Did you notice? I'm doing it again. I am finding satisfaction in predicting the future because I can say, "I was right." 

So with all this confirmation of being "right," I still find myself hoping I am wrong. How much do I want to write "SUCKER" on my forehead whenever this feeling comes to me?! It's amazing what the heart keeps trying to do to make the story end happily, even an already broken heart.

P.S. I want to send out my most sincere thank you to all of your outpouring of support and sympathy. I know all of you really understand what this disappointment means and how hard it is to get through without some kind words. I also realized that writing is truly a good friend to me and that if I abandon that, I will be left with no spirit. It's hard enough to try to walk away from trying to have your own biological baby, that I think I must keep writing.

Pièce de résistance

It's all come down to this. Little Miss Positive's whole reason for living has come to this final showdown. As I wait for how my IVF trilogy will end, I wonder if it will wrap up like many satisfying trilogies with the third installment concluding with return, resurrection, and redemption. Will this be a profoundly balanced Star Wars trio, or will this drag on like a Police Academy 4 and 5 where each sequel is more ridiculous than the one before?

As we all know, the two week wait is a magnet for negative thinking. I've been left to my crazy self to try to predict if it worked or not. Unlike the first days after transfer when I felt so flushed with joy with the hard hurdles behind me and implantation ahead, the days leading up to beta make my once happy cruise ship become the titanic. I keep expecting and looking for the iceberg that's going to sink us. I'm crampy, but that could be PMS. I had smelly urine with my last IVF pregnancy, and no sign of it this time. So now I am obsessed with my pee. I'm getting hot flashes and sore boobs but that can be from the progesterone. Then I start to do the lesser of evils asking myself, "Between another failed pregnancy and a negative, which would you take?" You're just fucked any way you look at it. 

So Little Miss Positive knows that this is her chance for a pièce de résistance - her most important part of the collection, the best part of the meal, and most importantly, a chance to prove me wrong. She also knows that she'd rather not be burned and thrown in the trash, as this is what I feel like I would do to my soft plush friend if this doesn't work. So she's gearing up for the fight of her life. It's the ultimate battle between good and evil, light and darkness, good luck and bad luck. But when I look at this epic clash of powers, this messianic climax soon to arrive on beta day this Saturday, Little Miss Positive once again reminds me it's not in my control. It's not even in the control of positive thinking. I believe it comes down to the force. The higher power, God, the universe, the holy roll of the dice, however you want to look at it, is the one in charge. So, yes, I have to say, "May the force be with me, please please please!" My only consolation in these 4 days before beta, besides a lot of praying, is a fortune cookie that simply and truthfully stated:

"The only sure thing about luck is that it will change."

Hopefully this will be the last episode of the adventures of Little Miss Positive. If not, stay tuned for reruns on Channel IVF, The Art of Being Infertile.

The Wait

This crap shoot we call "reproduction" involves a hell of a lot of waiting. Yesterday's transfer went well and so I have officially begun my 2 week wait. I now lay in bed dreaming of my three embryos starting their new adventure. I envision my uterus saying "Welcome aboard!" like a perky cruise ship director pointing my three embies toward the sunny deck chairs where they can plop themselves down, order a margarita, and grow. I make sure my uterus informs them of the cruise ship's strict policies. Number one - absolutely no one is allowed down either of these fallopian tubes. They may look enticing but they only lead to darkness and your imminent death. Second - no jumping ship, there are no life rafts. Once on board, stay on board. Then my ship sets sail into the beautiful horizon and all together we take our slow boat to China.  

So when I think of this long boat ride with hours, days, weeks looking out onto open ocean waters with no end, I can't help but log everything that I've waited for and will have to wait for in this infertility process. In reviewing all these waiting moments, the only thing I know for sure is that this experience has required something beyond patience. A new word should be invented to describe this kind of waiting because there is nothing in the English language that really comes close to describing it. 

• 3 minutes waiting for a home pregnancy test result (10 min if you fish it out of the trash to check one more time that it didn't suddenly change to positive).
  
  
• 30 minutes to an hour waiting at my fertility clinic to be called in for my blood tests and ultrasounds.
  
  
• 7 to 9 hours waiting for the nurse's phone call telling my results for every test.
  
  
• 3 days waiting to see if my embies survived.
  
  
• 2 weeks waiting to know if my beta is positive. Then weeks more waiting to see if your beta doubles, then weeks more waiting to get through your ultrasounds. Altogether potentially 9 more months of waiting through an endless slew of tests before I finally, maybe, possibly, hopefully have a live baby.
  
  
• 11 weeks waiting for my miscarriage to get to zero.
  
  
• 15 weeks waiting for my ectopic to get to zero.
  
  
• 3 years waiting to get pregnant - not half ass pregnant, really pregnant.
  
  
• 23 years waiting for pregnancy to finally give my tiny chest a chance for real boobs only to be foiled by infertility.
  
  
• Waiting for what feels like an eternity for my luck to change.
  

The Fertilization Report!

Portrait of Eggs

"When you start with a portrait and search for a pure form, a clear volume, through successive eliminations, you arrive inevitably at the egg. Likewise, starting with the egg and following the same process in reverse, one finishes with the portrait."

-Pablo Picasso

In the midst of all this IVF technology and petri dish babies, I forget that I am still part of nature. I'm not just a piece of meat to be probed and experimented with. I'm actually in the middle of one of the most amazing parts of nature - the making of the egg. 

On a short hiatus in Boston, I stumbled upon the Harvard Museum of Natural History. Needing a short respite from the blistering cold, I welcomed the warm quiet of a museum. As I walked through the halls, it's no wonder that two exhibits stood out to me. First I went to the Glass Flower collection by artisans Leopold and Rudolph Blaschka who created nearly 4,400 life-like representatives of the plant kingdom. I was not only struck my the amazing craftsmanship of the glass flowers, but also the endless variety of flower ovaries. Some ovaries were simple, others like intricate jewels, and all were distinctly beautiful. 

The next exhibit I was drawn to was called, surprise surprise, "Nest and Eggs." There were breathtaking displays of bird eggs, showcasing their diversity and the way birds nurture their young. Each one, from the basketball-sized egg of the elephant bird to the tiny hummingbird egg, was stunning. I couldn't believe that this same kind of beauty was happening in me. Where's the exhibit with the big uterus and my stimulated assortment of follicles? But in fact, this is what I have to remind myself that what's happening in me is indeed of museum quality distinction.

So this is my ode to the eggs growing in me right now. From the glitzy fabergé egg to the frail Humpty Dumpty to good old green eggs and ham, my eggs, your eggs, are part of the distinguished array of eggs in this world. Beyond how many they will retrieve this Saturday, or how many will fertilize, or how many will implant, I make these incredible things called eggs that are the beginning and the end and everything in between.

As the great author Zora Neale Hurston writes, “The present was an egg laid by the past that had the future inside its shell.”

Guru Little Miss Positive

Little Miss Positive knew that I needed to exorcise some demons today. I am in need of nuclear weapon strength positive thinking. I need a prescription for heartache. As I mentioned in my last post, my friend's pregnancy had not only reminded me of how badly she handle things, but it reminded me of how unfair it all is and what a tragedy for our friendship that she had kicked me while I was down. Recovering from my ectopic I was teetering on the edge of deep deep depression and her pregnancy news was that final push into the abyss. So my resentments run deep for her and her pregnancy. Today, the day she is being induced for delivery, I need another adventure.

So the first defensive move Little Miss Positive told me to do was create an email filter. That's right. Who needs a baby announcement today, or any day for that matter? So I made a nice little folder called "No Man's Land" where all those possible baby announcements will automatically and magically go without even making it to my inbox. Done. Then Little Miss Positive reminded me that this day may be the birth of your friend's child, but it's the day I start my first step toward my child. Stimulate me! I started my stims shots today, marking the cultivation of my fine fat plump eggs. My dose has been cranked up to 300iu of Gonal F and 2 menopur, so we are hoping this brings us more to work with.

Little Miss Positive agreed with fellow blogger luna in that you may be getting lemons, but make lemonade. All these bad memories bedeviling me are not going to help me get pregnant. Why let my friend once again create some kind of emotional mud slide and hurt my chances of success? "Oh Little Miss Positive, show me the way!" I screamed. So she said that you need to first collapse physically. Second, drain the mind. Third, think spiritually. She told me that relaxation results from re-creation and this needs to be a continuous flow. This flow of force goes from higher power to the individual and then back to higher power for renewal. Continuous flow? How can I quiet the mind when I can barely stop obsessing about my pain to write this post? Little Miss Positive looked at me with a Tim Gunn "Make it work!' expression, reminding me that we already have the tools - fertility yoga, acupuncture, and meditation - so use them!

P.S. Little Miss Positive and I recommend Anji's meditation CD "Imagery and Meditations to support In-Vitro Fertilization (IVF)" if anyone is looking for one. 

Stay tuned for more adventures of Little Miss Positive. Posted weekly here on Channel IVF, The Art of Being Infertile.

CD21: And, we're out of the gates!

I never thought this day would arrive. I've sat poised for so long ready to jockey my race horse full speed ahead only to be told time and time again "Not yet." But today the bullhorn has blown and the gates flew wide open.

As I surge forward, blinders on, kicking up dirt, toward the baby finish line, it's first important to note that my long and torturous wait for zero has come to an end. After 11 weeks, my HCG is finally negative. Now, because this is the wacky world of infertility, today is like "opposites day." Picture this: I walk backwards, I love chocolate ice cream instead of vanilla, I go uptown instead of downtown, I am tall instead of short, and of course, most importantly, I must switch my brain from wanting a negative beta to longing for a positive one. 

Now that I have this clean slate, another important change has occurred. Falling on the same day as this beta, I was allowed to also do my CD21 test. I'm in a bit of shock that my nurse's phone call is actually informing me of good news. All is well in uterus land and I've gotten the green light to start lupron. 

So I am taking the reigns, even to the point where I will be doing this first shot tonight by myself. I wish I could say I'm doing this because of a new sense of empowerment, but it's really because my husband is away on a business trip and what choice do I have? But point being, I will be putting aside my wimpy squeamish self to break out that first needle (luckily the smallest one) and on the count of 3 - one...two...three! - I will do the deed with my very own hands. IVF#3 is finally beginning and I'm ready.