Happy Thanksgiving

Hope everyone has a happy, healthy and safe Thanksgiving! Please say a prayer or send up some positive thoughts for our IVF. I hope we have some fighters.

Six of One, A Half Dozen of the Other

I had my retrieval on Sunday morning. All and all it went ok. I got there in the morning and they took me right back to prep for my procedure. They hooked me up to wires, IV's and all the rest and I waited patiently until about 9:30 rolled around they call brought me into the room for my 9:45am retrieval. This being my 4th time in the retrieval room I knew exactly what to expect, though for some reason I couldn't shake my nerves that morning. Perhaps because we said that this would be the last cycle of IVF we'd try for awhile. Perhaps I just had a premonition that something wouldn't go quite right. I have to say the nurses were the best I've seen at my clinic. They were cracking me up the whole time, I kept saying they should do stand-up comedy.

My retrieval went off without a hitch and they brought me to the recovery room, so hopefully I could dose off a little. I started feeling crampy and told the nurse. She said just give it a little time and see if it goes away. It got worse. WAY worse. She found a shot of pain killer and gave me 60 units of something in my toosh and I was silently praying this would work. After 15 minutes I sat up, and HOLY HELL, I thought someone was kicking me in my right side with a steel boot. I yelled for the nurse that I was going to be sick and I started sweating like a turkey on Thanksgiving. I turned kind of crazy and started ripping my socks and blanket off and hiked my hospital gown up to my belly. The RE rushed in and just stared at me bewildered. He ran and got the ultrasound machine to see what was going on. He thought perhaps my ovary had twisted over (something that can happen when you go through IVF). He saw a very small amount of liquid on my left ovary. He didn't really think this could be causing the pain, so said give it another 15 minutes and see what happens.

By this point I was absolutely delirious with pain. There were 2 other girls in the recovery room, and I'm sure they thought I was completely nuts, and secretly calling their husbands on hidden cell phones to tell them to get them the heck out of there! Finally, not sure what time it was since I was crying out in pain, they brought be back to the procedure room. My RE thought that even though the liquid was such a small amount that it could still be causing me pain. My IV fell out (crazy person), so I had no pain drugs. He quickly went in and drained the liquid and within 5 seconds, the pain was gone. The RE was so relieved, and so were the nurses. I sat up and said "Do I get my cookies and juice now?" They said I could have all the cookies and juice I damn well wanted.

So finally at around noon, I found Kevin (he had no idea what was going on), and we made our way home with a brief stop at McDonald's. All in all, I had 11 eggs retrieved, 8 of those were mature, and 6 of those fertilized. Not quite what I wanted the number to be. I was hoping for about 11 fertilized. But now all we can do is think positive thoughts and pray.

Not So Friday Fun

I am tired. I am tired of getting up so darn early for all these blood work and ultrasound appointments. I got to the clinic this morning and received a smile from the receptionist, so perhaps, today would be better. Made my way to get my blood drawn and the painful phlebotomist called my number. Drat, this wasn't going to be a good day. Once the color came back to my face and I didn't feel like I was going to pass out, I went back to the waiting room for my ultrasound. Read my book patiently and 5 minutes later they called my number.

Undressed, waistdown, sat on paper, and cocooned myself in the sheet they leave behind. As if that is going to make me more comfortable. The ultrasound tech came in, and got her joystick of fun ready. I laid down, ready to see my beautiful uterus and follicles on the screen. She got ready to play her video game, and then...the unthinkable happened. My worst joystick of fun nightmare almost became reality. Though it almost happened, almost is close enough for me! it would have been a really BAD mistake. Yes, she almost went there with the joystick. I quickly sat up...
"ummm..."
"oh sorry"
"yeah, no problem," I said through gritted teeth.

Yeah, not having a positive outlook on this day anymore.

Not the New Kid Anymore

**having technical difficulties with this freaking font! I can't figure it out, but it's getting on my nerves.**

I haven’t written much about this IVF cycle that I’m going through. I didn’t want this blog to be about my infertility and numbers and doctor’s appointments. I know a lot of blogs like that, but just wanted to do something different. I started this blog trying to be positive all the time, and that’s just not in my personality. So I decided to just write about how I have come to view the world as a result of going through multiple IVF’s and pregnancy loss. I’ve never been one for depression or too much drama, so I even surprised myself to learn that I was seeing the good in things. Perhaps that was a coping mechanism.

Usually during IVF I keep it a secret. I don’t really tell family or friends that I’m going through it. The reason is that I didn’t want to have to tell 25 people that a cycle didn’t work. But after our pregnancy loss, everyone knows our infertile biz-ness. I’m fine with that, I still keep it on my terms and let people know what I’d like them to know. This cycle I feel a little more comfortable with letting people know where we’re at and keeping an update on this blog. It is what it is, and I can’t change that.

This week I have been getting monitored because I’m doping myself up on Gonal F (follicle growing drug) every night and the doctor's need to monitor how those follicles are growing, and if there's any changes in the drugs for the retrieval. Every other morning I join the cattle call of women hoping for babies. I think of us as the IUI and IVF girls. I have to first tell them my name (like a marine), “Brower, reporting for duty.” I get my parking validated and get my paperwork and a number like you’d get at the deli counter or a fast food restaurant. The receptionist is miserable, and I try to make her smile by being overly nice, sometimes making a joke. No smiles today, not even a look into my eyes.

I like to sit in the waiting area waiting for my number to be called and look around. Trying to figure out who will be good mothers. Who will make their kids join the chess club, or will be fun and young and have boundless energy? I look at clothes and handbags trying to figure out what walks of life all these women come from. I can see many of them doing the same thing. I watch the “new kids.” The ones who have never done this and have no clue what they are doing. They wait anxiously and are so excited they can’t even read a magazine or book as they wait. Their number gets called and it looks like they are accepting an Oscar. They stand up, look around with a grin, and walk slowly to the waiting ultrasound tech.

Perhaps that’s not the worst thing. Feeling that hope and anticipation again. Perhaps I should watch those girls a little closer and try to have some of that rub off on me. But I know the system now, and know the right questions to ask. I know the ultrasound techs I like and the phlebotomists that don’t hurt me when they draw my blood. I guess there is something to be said for being the high school senior. I’m just ready to graduate this place and start the real life. I don’t want to be the new kid, but I certainly don’t want to be the expert at this anymore. I’m ready to be the new kid in a whole different category.

Obsessed with the Vampires

The past few weeks I have barely watched tv. I have missed the last Grey’s Anatomy, have weeks of Oprahs backed up on our tivo and have my Sunday night programs from last night waiting for me to watch them. I think those programs will be sitting there for a little longer before I get a chance to watch them. The reason I have neglected my favorite characters is in exchange for some new characters. Bella Swan and Edward Cullen have entered my life.

If those are new names to you, you are probably not a teenager into vampire books. Either am, er, was I until I discovered these little gems known as the Twilight series written by Stephanie Meyer. At dinner a few weeks ago, my friend told me she’s been reading these books and explained that they are really written for teenagers…and they have vampires in them. I scoffed at her (she did, after all, make fun of the fact that I had taken a pottery class). I was an English major in college. I read big kid books, like Ernest Hemingway, Toni Morrison, John Steinbeck. I do of course, have many other favorites, but I do try to read some of the classics in between some fun reads. But my friend persisted and said how great they were. I hate vampires, and didn’t think much of the books after dinner.

A few days later I meandered over to the Border’s by my work and as soon I was walked I was accosted by the biggest layout of Twilight books. Maybe it was a sign. I casually walked over, and picked up the first in the series (there are now four) and thought about it. I put it back and walked to find a better read. 45 minutes later, I walked back to the display and picked up the first book again. I walked around with it, kind of embarrassed that I was holding a teenager’s book. I put it back again and walked away. I went over by the Oprah books and picked up what looked to be a riveting, but probably kind of boring read. Fine, I walked back one last time, grabbed the damn book and got in line before I could change my mind. I just bought the first in the series, and told myself I could always come back for more if I liked it.

Three days later I was back at the bookstore looking for book number 2 (New Moon), NEEDING to know what was going to happen with Edward and Bella. Only 2 days later, yep, you guessed it, back at the bookstore to buy number 3 (Eclipse) and 4 (Breaking Dawn) (why waste gas and have to go back?). Kevin and I both know that once I get locked into an obsession, it’s there to stay for quite some time. An example? After watching Walk the Line, I couldn’t find enough information to satisfy my desire to learn more about Johnny and June Cash. This went on for weeks, WEEKS, and if I think about it, I start googling again. Another example…after Elizabeth Smart was found, I would wake up at ungodly hours to turn on the news to learn more about what happened. I kind of feel like she’s my friend after all that. Creepy? Most definitely. There are plenty more, but I will save myself the embarrassment and anyone calling the authorities on me.

So here I am. A new obsession. I had to leave the book at home today, because I get too tempted to try to read when I should be working, or taking longer than necessary lunches when I am actually really busy at work. I guess it just surprises me, because even when I was a teenager, I never got into very teenager-y things. I hated New Kids on the Block. I wore a uniform to school, so I never got into the latest fads. In fact, if it was popular, I tried to be different and not love it. So perhaps the fact that I love these books is a way for me to live through my teenage years once again, but in a different way. Whatever the case may be, I love them. I am slightly obsessed with them. And I will be seeing the movie this weekend. Please, read them with me so we can talk about them incessantly and I won’t feel like such a loser anymore. You might even get slightly obsessed right there with me.

Friday Fun

A quick Friday Fun today as I'm actually busy at work! I saw this story on CNN earlier this week, and I LOVE stories about animals adopting other animals. It pulls at my heart strings. I think this little chimp is just too cute, and she wants to be a mama, like so many of us. Happy Friday and have a great weekend!

Here is the video...enjoy!

A Quick Trip, But All the Difference

Getting to the point where you feel like you NEED a vacation is not fun at all. I feel this often, and for no apparent reason. Perhaps just with the stress of normal life I often have visions of leaving everyone and everything and fending for myself on a beach with nothing but a Mango Margarita, a bathing suit and a pair of tweezers (hey, a girl's got to have nice eyebrows). Of course, I'd love Kevin to be there as well so we could pass out in the sun, or take a dip in the ocean. Though the fantasy is nice, we rarely have the opportunity to escape life all that often.

This past weekend Kevin had to give a presentation in Grand Rapids, MI on Saturday and was leaving Friday night. It's about 3 hours away from Chicago, so he asked if I wanted to join him for the ride. I was not overly excited about it because I'm not really one for road trips, and there didn't seem to be all that much to do there. But as it got closer, it sounded better and better. We put the dog in boarding, packed up the car, cued the iPod and were on our way. The 3 hour drive there was quick and uneventful, but gave us a chance to talk, play some road trip games, and just reconnect. We got to the hotel and I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.



I woke up the next morning and Kevin was already gone for his presentation. I had found some great hiking trails online before we left. Unfortunately, I woke up to storming weather, so I nixed the hiking idea. Instead I went to the gym in the hotel and made myself workout for an hour. I felt so great and rejuvenated afterwards. After the workout I showered and got ready for the day, and ate a delicious omelet in the hotel restaurant while reading my teenage vampire book.



Kevin still had a couple hours left before he could leave so I found a mall in town and hit up some stores. When you live in the city, malls sometimes get exciting! The stores weren't great, but I found some great deals and soon found my way back to the hotel to pick Kevin up. We drove the 3 hours back home and the rest of the weekend was filled with napping, wine drinking, more napping, and driving Bailey crazy with tons of kisses and pets.



Today I feel refreshed, and really ready to tackle this IVF cycle. Lately I have felt so tired and cranky, that looking at the next day in life seems a struggle. But this weekend was such a tiny escape from life it got me back on track. Sometimes we don't need to fly 1,000 miles away to segregate ourselves on a beach to really get away. I found this weekend that even getting a tiny break from the dog, laundry and the internet will do the trick, and it was, afterall, just a quick trip.

All About the Puppy...

I can only imagine what other nations are thinking of the US right now. We finally "hire" our first African American President, a HISTORIC event, one that I will remember forever, and all anyone can talk about is what puppy the new first family with get. Now I am a dog lover to my core, but all this talk about what kind of puppy they should get for their girls is getting on my nerves.

Obama's daughters were promised a puppy at the end of campaigning whether he won or lost. I thought that was a great end goal for the girls. And seeing their bright, smiling faces at his rally on Tuesday night, I truly think that's about all they could think about. I remember getting our first puppy when I was 10 and running home every day after school just to play with her. I instantly fell in love. Though I love my Bailey more than anything, I often think of getting another puppy (it's not happening).

So with Obama's promise to his daughters, this all reporters can talk about. Should he get a rescue, a goldendoodle, small, big, hypo-allergenic, black or white? Get a Pit bull and name it Sarah (my favorite advice so far). I can't turn on the tv or read a news site without hearing about this puppy or offers for advice on what they should get. Now I assure you, I can't wait to see what the family chooses, but I also think we should leave this decision to the family. Leave it to Malia and Sasha as it will be their puppy.

Can we get back to the real issues now?

Happily Six Years After

This past Sunday, November 2nd, Kevin and I celebrated our 6th year of marriage. 6 years ago on Sunday we marched into St. Alphonsus Church in Chicago, and took our vows. It was a beautiful, sunny November day and I couldn't have been happier. Nervous as all get out, but happy nonetheless. We concluded the evening with more alcohol than is consumed at a Cub's game at The Chicago Fine Arts Exchange, and dancing until midnight. The evening ended, not by romance, but a cheeseburger in our hotel room. I couldn't have asked for a better wedding day!

For weeks I was trying to think of what we should do for our Anniversary. I am a firm believer that every year should be celebrated with great fan fare. Marriage is not easy, and when another year can be marked off, I think it's cause for celebration. The past couple years have been especially difficult as we have struggled with infertility, ivf, and pregnancy loss. Kevin has also been in Grad School, on top of working late, and let's not forget our crazy fur friend we let reside with us.

After much deliberation we decided to meet some friends out for dinner on Saturday. We knew we'd be together all day on Sunday, so we didn't need a romantic dinner on our own. Plus, we don't get to see these friends all that often as they have two little ones and scheduling gets difficult. We went to a GREAT restaurant! One of the better ones we've tried, and drank a bit too much wine. It was a really great evening. Sunday, we woke up early with the time change, and headed across the street to breakfast (my absolute favorite thing to do...like ever). The rest of the day we just bummed around, napped, watched some tv, ate pizza, exchanged cards, walked Bailey. Nothing special really. But we were together, and that was all that mattered.