2013 is going to be the year….we are in waiting mode

My posting has been erratic at best, I apologize.  There is only so much you can say about having nothing to say….but now I do.  I’m gearing up for a transfer and I need help.  Your help.  YOURS?  Yes, yours.  I am at my wits end about how many to transfer.  I’m terrified of two things – getting pregnant with twins and not getting pregnant at all.  My history with Alex included preterm labor but I had a lot of stress around the time it all went down (husband lost job).  I now have FIVE GAZILLION amounts more stress (own a preschool – hello!?!).  I literally have children that I look after and over all day long and I fret.  I am a little “type A” as my husband says.  Ya think?  These kids are someone’s entire life and you better believe that a boo boo or bite or whatever happens in the course of the day is something I’m involved with – I also love being around them which isn’t great since I’m CMV negative (that is for another day).  But I’m going to be 45 and with two CGH normals – one 5AB and the other 4BB – I have a good chance of both implanting.  I think my son was a lower quality embryo and developed slower but the 5AB is a great shot and it is a girl and the 4BB a boy.  I also worry that if one works then how can I go back for the other?  I’ll be 50  by the time my body recovers and I just can’t do that – already 45 feels a bit old to be doing this.  Anyway, I am going to do it.  My DH and I have been having stress arguments. It is normal, I know but not helpful.  He seems to think I should just put them both back in but doesn’t understand that means I will be laying around for 9 months (not running a preschool).  Oi vey.

So how many?  My gut says do an ESET with the higher quality first (the girl) and then if life is so kind as to give us the means to afford a surrogate, we go for the 4BB a year after she is born.  That feels weird and freaky to say so let’s just hope I didn’t jinx myself.  

I’ve always thought I’d have three kids and well, who knows.  I just hope it works.  Something about finally doing it is making me a little unhinged.  It feels so final and what if it does not work?  I have no plan B.

So what do you think, internets?  Should I transfer both?  I did carry to full term even if I was 4cm dilated for about 5 months.  

I am also concerned that the CGH process is going to hurt them – and I’m concerned about my age – although my OBGYN told met hat if I get pregnant it is the same odd as a younger person because a muscle is a muscle and mine has proven to work once.  Whatever the heck that meant, to be honest.  Muscles fail too, you old goat.  MUST.ONLY.SEE.A.WOMAN.GYNO.

Oh and I recently had a huge scare with a lump – that was handled poorly and made me nearly jump off the bridge.  Thankfully it is all normal – so far.  

Lastly, I have an UP band which is an annoying little wrist bandt hat tells you how much sleep, what you are eating and how deep you sleep, etc.  It basically is ruling my world right now. I’ve lost a few pounds since its arrival on Christmas so I guess I like it.  Actually, for what it is going to help me do (have a baby, I hope) it is a fantastic thing and great motivation.  It even buzzes me if I don’t do anything for over 10 minutes.  I guess that is the definition of lazy – not moving your hand for 10 minutes.  Right.

Over to you – help!!!!  I’m looking at a mid March transfer if I can get grumpy husband to agree to all the malarky involved (the trip out, the blood and the cost).  It has to be done and hell, I’m doing all the work.  Decisions.

Happy New Year, Readers.  I promise to be a little more interesting in 2013.  This has been a weird year.  Next year I’m going to rock and roll and i hope you do to (whatever that means to you).  Now off to make an appt in my calendar to schedule an appt with Schoolcraft.  That might take a minute or two (or a week or two).  Onward and upward!

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Just when you thought nothing could surprise you…

I’ve been debating posting what I have on my mind. I’ve really thought long and hard about it (yes, I’ll get to it but there is a back story so indulge, please and thank you). I’ve had a pretty horrible few years months. I’ve not told anyone about all of the things bothering me. In fact, I’ve kept almost everything to myself for so long that I’ve become used to it. This blog is about as close as I get to spilling my guts about what is really bothering me and most of you have no idea who I am (er, I suppose).

Let me backtrack…

I went to visit my husband’s family for three weeks in June. It was the first real holiday I’ve had in three years and I REALLY needed it.   This has been a challenging year for many reasons not just waiting for the doctor to approve my chosen surrogate.   I was hoping to relax, recharge and hopefully come back to the great news that Dr. Schoolcraft had approved my surrogate after the “difficult cases” meeting and that our journey could begin. I was rather sure AND as my husband said after reading the pleading letter to the good doctor “there is no way he won’t be moved by that” or something of that nature.  I had pretty much secured the loan from our credit union for most of the costs, I was set. The IS (intended surrogate) was getting a little tired of waiting and I didn’t blame her. But knew that it would crush me and ruin my one chance to rest after a hard few years.  I didn’t think three weeks would make much of a difference and knew that a calmer me would make me able to deal with whatever the decision was with a clearer head.    So I went to the UK blissfully unaware that meetings had been had in Colorado and fates had been sealed. Who knows, they hadn’t called me back despite a few phone calls and emails so I assume that is what was going on. I certainly was not going to have  another hundred or so dollars to talk to him again (plus the 8 dollar phone call charge – love that touch).   I try not to think of the money we’ve spent so far and the phone calls….which have been about 2 minutes long.  What is the hourly rate for that?  A million dollars an hour?

I digress.

So I went to the UK and had a fantastically craptastic time thanks to some work drama.  The highlight was going to Paris for the night, eating a chocolate ice cream cone and working off the calories (and almost dying of heart failure) trying to keep up with my 5 year old ball of energy who literally ran up the Eiffel tower to the first level.  Let me say that the Eiffel Tower is a big deal at my school.  We talk about it a lot.  We draw pictures of the steeple at our school (we reside in a church) and the kids love imagining it with all the lights on it at night.  I have little replicas that they love to hold.  My son was a ROCKSTAR at school for going up the Eiffel Tower so it was worth it….even if I cried all the way down and back on the Eurostar….imagining horrible things that never happened, arguing with my husband over almost everything and nothing and missing my friend who died last year.  You know, the one person you have in your life that you can call and talk to for a few hours and you both walk away from the call having unloaded and feeling like you connected with another person who gets it?  He was that person for me.  I know I’m all  over the place but I just needed him at that moment and well, now….and I don’t have him or anything like him anymore.    Enough with the pity party.  I’ll be fine, I just get sad sometimes and talk to the air imagining he is here and listening (minus his incredibly catty stories about people we know from high school and who is now gay and who is divorcing and….you know, a little harmless gossip with an old friend).   He was gay, for the record and when he died we hadn’t talked because I was so busy, I didn’t return his few calls.  Not because I didn’t care, I was too busy working to save my family.  Another blog post… another regret.

God help me I will get to the point.

So I get back to the US and solve a few of my pending problems, get the news from CCRM, digest it. tell the surrogate via FB (because I could not speak I was so upset)…  A few weeks go by and I’m thinking about how perhaps I could try one transfer with me and then move the other embryo to a clinic (my husband’s wishes) and transfer to her.

Then Aurora happens and I immediately look to see if she is OK (on FB – she lives in that vicinity) and she is gone.  Poof.  She blocked me.  She erased me from her life.  My husband was very relieved that we didn’t proceed further with someone who clearly didn’t see us as anything more than dollar signs…I took it a bit harder..  I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.  The idea of someone carrying a child for me wasn’t easy.  I had pangs and yearnings and questions but I made peace with it because of her.  I also felt a connection to her and knew she would care for my children (if they do turn into children but with a normal CGH embryo made a few years ago, you have a good chance in the right womb).

The person that I almost let carry my children blocked me on facebook.  Just.Like.THAT.

If that isn’t a kick in the pants, I don’t know what is.  All I can say is I hope she isn’t following me.  Fool me once and I get the picture.  I’ve now learned that life is not only about choices but also how you react to the choices of others.

I just keep on thinking…what if she had my children living inside of her and blocked me.  What if, what if, what if.

Maybe I have a guardian angel.  I don’t know.

Let me leave you with the good news – my period is back again.  Heavy too.  I think I am going to build a lining, folks.  I think I’m going to do this myself.  Soon.  44 and pregnant.  Think I’d get a reality TV show?  Good LORD, my friends from high school are having grandchildren now.

Enough counting chickens.

The End of Post 125

Vivelle Dots.

What the f? Sorry. I’m just stumped. These are not dots. They are sheets of plastic with adhesive and estrogen. What is with the dots thing?

I have one on me. Assuming it is making its way into my bloodstream to get my pathetic lining to grow.

Yep, I nagged good old Dr. S to let me do a mock lining check locally. New doc (who I LOVE) will do a hysteroscopy and I don’t care if I spelled that wrong. It is late and I am so cranky. I digress, so we are going to check out the uterus, make sure there are no more traces of ashermans and that my ovaries look OK and that the lining is developing and then I am putting these embryos back in. I’m in the middle of a secret adventure and I want to share but I can’t – suffice it to say that it is really stressful. Combine that with the fact that my husband’s job fired him. FIRED! He is a Managing Director and they made things up. They actually fired him for poor performance when this guy brought in 12 million dollars last year. But they don’t really know what we have here. The kind of trouble they are about to get in for lying is just amazing. I wish I could elaborate but I can’t. Normally I would like to just walk away from this but not when they essentially prevent my husband from working in the industry he has worked in for 20 years. So, there will be justice. And it is going to be painful for them. The law was broken and we have some proof. Oh do I wish I could just write it all out! But suffice it to say that when I am involved, I make sure that we cross every T and dot every i because I saw this coming.

So my little adventure has to keep us alive.

I’m scared but I know, I truly know that we will succeed.

One day at a time.

Get me through the transfer, let there be another baby and who cares about the rest. The world will open up and we will be happy again. It has been so long. Wow, I’m excited thinking about happy and us in the same sentence.

I do love my family so very much….now I just want to give my son his sibling. It is time.

11 dpo

I’m 11 days past ovulation now.  Normally I would pee on another stick….but I can’t do it.  Never in my entire life of peeing on sticks have I had good news.  Never, ever.  Even when I was pregnant with my son – the tests kept getting lighter and lighter.  That, of course, is when I break out a bottle of wine (and not to share).  So I’ll actually wait for my beta (blood test) and find out the number.  Then I will have to go get another blood test 2 days later – and then 2 days later, repeat.

Normally what happens is that my levels start to go down and then they tell me to stop all medication….a chemical pregnancy.

Even if I didn’t have a chemical pregnancy – even if I did actually see a heartbeat – the stress doesn’t end there.  I’m 40 years old.  The miscarriage rate is…I think around 40%.  So I’m looking at another 10 weeks of worrying and wondering.  And then you have the testing….which is the biggest nail biter of all.

So – I’m looking at approximately 20 weeks of worry here – I might as well just try to ignore it and live my life.  I will tell you this though – I feel very ill (like I might have to vomit) so….that is good sign.

I’m off the march against proposition 8 this afternoon so I’ll post some photos when I get back.