That is what it feels like............like waiting for the Governor to call with a stay of execution.

Out of the 17, 14 were mature and as of this morning, 13 have fertilized.

THIRTEEN HAVE FERTILIZED!!!! Please let there be at least one good one. PLEASE!

I think I have worked myself up into an ulcer....I have been awake since 6:30 and all of the terrible memories of IVF #1 repeated themselves over and over and over again in my mind. We got the call last time that nothing fertilized so of course, that was my fear. Even though we did ICSI this time, I still was afraid of a repeat.

My past haunts me. The desperate rescue ICSI at 23 hours post retrieval last time ended up with 9 fertilized eggs. PGD study revealed ALL of them to be so severely chromosomally abnormal that even the embryologist got dry heaves.

All of my eggs are in this basket. I am betting that rescue ICSI causes severe abnormalities. This is the study that my maternal life depends on:

Rescue ICSI of unfertilized oocytes after IVF
W. Kuczyski1,3,5, M. Dhont4, C. Grygoruk1,3, P. Pietrewicz3, S. Redzko2 and
M. Szamatowicz1
1 Department of Gynecology and 2 Department of Perinatology, Bialystok
Medical University, Sklodowskiej 24A, Bialystok 15–276, 3
Cryobank–Infertility Center, Bialystok, Poland and 4 Infertility Center,
Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology, Ghent University Hospital, Belgium

BACKGROUND: Failed fertilization after IVF occurs in 10–20% of cycles.
Conflicting results of rescue fertilization by ICSI have been reported. We
therefore compared the success rate in terms of fertilization and pregnancy
of cycles in which rescue ICSI was performed with those from a matched
control group of primarily ICSI cycles. METHODS: Unfertilized oocytes from
IVF cycles with total fertilization failure where at least four metaphase II
oocytes were available were treated by ICSI (group I; n = 120). A matched
control group was established with patients undergoing ICSI during the same
period (group II; n = 280). RESULTS: Both fertilization rate and the
proportion of embryos with four blastomeres on day 2 after ICSI were
significantly higher in the control group (P < 0.05). Embryo quality,
however, was comparable in both groups. The pregnancy rate in the control
group was 25.3% whereas in group I with rescue ICSI, no pregnancy was
obtained. CONCLUSIONS: Although unfertilized oocytes after IVF can be
fertilized by ICSI, the developmental potential of the ensuing embryos is
very poor. Therefore, rescue ICSI after total failure of fertilization is
not recommended.

With IVF#1, either my eggs didn't get fertilized initially because they were severely abnormal or something simple was wrong (eggshell too thick or sperm not quite strong enough).

If my eggs are indeed cooked, none of these will be okay.

If we just needed a little help breaking through my eggshell, this could be excellent.

I begged, borrowed and sold myself to my husband to convince him to try one more time.

I could not accept being a 65 year old woman and looking back on my life and wondering if we were so close.

Now we will know.

Needless to say, I am no longer in my pool of calm. Now I can freak out and I am. I will get in my pool of calm again in a few days if I am lucky enough to get to transfer with this IVF.

Transfer is the line that I need to cross over. One step at a time. If I get to know what transfer is like, I will have progressed.

I need to keep my eye on the trail. I see an occupant for my nursery in the far distance if I can just keep stepping forward. Baby steps people, baby steps.

I am so relieved that they retrieved 17 eggs.

My doctor said everything looked excellent.

They are doing ICSI and we wait for the call in the morning.

I am doing well, groggy and fuzzy-minded but very happy.

I hope angels are looking after everything and I hope we get good news in the morning.

Lady Of Le Leche Chapel 

This is the oldest church in the United States built in 1537. This is where I got married. It is also where people come to pray to get pregnant.

After 37 years, I finally met the man I was going to marry. I wanted a nice wedding and M. wanted to elope. I have a HUGE family in South Carolina and he has a small family in Boston. If we got married in Charleston, S.C. it would almost be embarrassing how old I was and how many people would be there. I don't know why that bothered me so much then, but it did. I didn't want to be an older bride acting like a 21 year old. I decided on a small chapel. The hunt was on for a charming chapel to get married in and I found it on the internet. My family has golf homes in Ponte Vedra Beach near Jacksonville, Florida so I was very familiar with the area. The Mission of Nombre De Dios is in St. Augustine and was built in 1537 and is the first shrine to Mary.

I am not Catholic, was raised Baptist actually, and the ONLY reason I could get married there was because M. was Catholic. M. is not particularly religious but what mattered to the Archdiocese was that one of us was Catholic. After innumerable classes, meeting with Priests and psychological marriage tests and classes, we were finally given the go ahead to get married there. People go through the Catholic checklist to get married in Cathedrals, very few people go through all of that to get married in a teensy chapel. There are not very many weddings at that chapel for that very reason. Only 24 people can fit in the tiny chapel on 5 acres. It is a beautiful setting and the pictures do not do it justice.

Chapel 



So, three years later, it is rather ironic that the main heartache in my life has been infertility.

There are MANY things I have done in the quest to become a mother. If anyone had any suggestions, I did it just in case:
:: painted my bedroom yellow
:: never had a family picture on a north wall
:: don't ever sit on concrete because the earth will draw all of the energy out of you
:: kokopelei under my bed with his horn up
:: pillows under hips for 20 minutes - thought "hell, if that works, a yoga shoulder stand would be better so I have struck a yoga pose naked just after sex (it is one thing to see your body naked, it is QUITE another to see it upside down naked! - thank goodness the deed had been done or M. would have surely lost any erection seeing my poochy belly and breasts sag like that!)
:: I wear certain gems
:: I speak in positive affirmations (when we have a baby this will be the nursery)

If someone told me walking zig zag helps one become pregnant, I would never have walked a straight line again.



My family, being as they are so helpful, got me some prayer cards for motherhood and also requested prayers at the Mission in St. Augustine. I have had those prayer cards everywhere you can imagine - on my bedside table, by my phone, near my make up mirror, in my car, in my wallet.

There are prayers to Our Lady of Le Leche and to St. Gerard. Every time I am in Florida, I go back to our chapel and pray.

So, I present to you the prayers for motherhood (there is also a prayer to Our Lady of Le Leche for a safe pregnancy and delivery for anyone who is interested).

Statue 



Prayer to Our Lady of la Leche
Lovely Lady of la Leche, most loving mother of the Child Jesus, and my mother, listen to my humble prayer. Your motherly heart knows my every wish, my every need. To you only, His spotless Virgin Mother, has your Divine Son given to understand the sentiments which fill my soul. Yours was the sacred privilege of being the Mother of the Savior. Intercede with him now, my loving Mother, that, in accordance with His will, I may become the mother of other children of our heavenly Father. This I ask, O Lady of la Leche, in the Name of your Divine Son, My Lord and Redeemer. Amen.
http://www.oldcity.com/sites/mission/prayer.html





St. Gerard 
Prayer For Motherhood
O glorious Saint Gerard, powerful intercessor before God, and wonder worker of our day, I call upon you and seek your help. You who always fulfilled God's will on earth, help me to do God's holy will. Intercede with the Giver of life, from whom all parenthood proceeds, that I may conceive and raise children who will please God in this life, and be heirs to the kingdom of heaven.
Amen.
http://www.scborromeo.org/prayers/gerard2.html

So, tomorrow is my retrieval and I will be praying fervently. I believe in prayer. It is a source of strength for me. As I have said before, I don't think that anyone has ever left me and thought I was particularly religious. I am privately religious. I lean on God a lot when I feel weak.

Needless to say, tomorrow I will be "weak".

My heart is so full of hope and my mind is so full of anticipation.

I don't know what I will do if this IVF fails. M. and I will not adopt nor will we do another IVF. I will post about that later perhaps, but suffice is to say, this IS it for us.

I felt the most anxiety last time after the eggs were retrieved. I was praying and willing angels to look after them. I imagined angels protecting them.

After tomorrow morning. my beautiful eggs will be in the hands of someone else. Someone who I do not know, but whom I trust with my children's lives.

It will be completely out of my hands after 9:00 a.m. - retrieval is scheduled for 8:30.

I pray for a miracle.

Here I sit with Hope and Faith after our very important ultrasound visit.

Dr. Beautiful measured fifteen follicles and said that everything looks wonderful. She also said that I had no idea how well I am responding. She didn't say it, but I got the feeling she also meant "for someone my age". She said that I am responding as well as they hope ovum donors will respond.

I feel like the weight of the world is off of my shoulders. I had a complete sense of dread since yesterday. Like a gut feeling or omen that the news would be bad today.

Needless to say, fifteen follicles does not mean fifteen eggs will be retrieved. I am just doing very well, much better than I had anticipated and I am so very grateful.

My retrieval is scheduled for Wednesday morning. I am to trigger tomorrow night and will not see her again until then. I have complete faith in my doctor. I even told her that she can ruin my ovaries if she needs to in order to get everything, being as this is our last and final IVF. She said she has never had to ruin anyone's ovaries but that she knew what I meant.

I mean truly, what do they do with the hidden follicles on the back end of ovaries? I want her to go for everything. I could care less if I have my ovaries or uterus if I can't have a child. I know that is morbidly dramatic, but it is how I honestly feel.

Dumbass nurse was there today and had to give me my schedule of events for the coming week. I truly cannot be bothered with difficulties and actually my heart went out to her. She was very nervous as she was showing me the papers of schedules. I looked her in the eye and wanted her to feel my kindness towards her and I said that I so appreciated her coming through with the medications and I thanked her. She said that I only needed to concentrate on taking care of myself and my eggs and then she put her arm on my shoulder. It was rather sweet actually.

I need to only feel the love. Feel the love for my beautiful babies. My eggs are my babies and I adore them. I cherish them. I bow to them.

So off I go with Faith and Hope to take a nap.




Thank you Lord for my many blessings. My heart is overjoyed.

That sorry ass Worry started knocking yesterday and now the asshole is beating on my door and ringing the doorbell nonstop.

I am actually doing well. THAT is the problem. Last cycle day 11 I could not walk well. I was so eggy. Today is cycle day 11 for IVF#2 and I am walking too well.

I will get the toll in the morning and Worry is screaming through the door that I won't have eleven eggs this time and will be lucky if I get five. Tomorrow is just the ultrasound that determines if I trigger tomorrow night. Worry just laughed very loudly through the door when I typed that, that sorry motherfucker.

I say I am doing well. That is such bullshit actually. I have had a killer headache in the afternoon the past three days. Yesterday was the worst. I think it is sinuses and since I am not taking Advil or Excedrin and not even Tylenol, I am left to suffer. Yesterday afternoon, after snorting saline water and pressing warm clothes on my face to no avail I got in a warm (not TOO hot) tub and ordered M. to bring me a big glass of red wine. That is the only thing my doctor said was okay, so hey, let's party!

I told M. that I thought I might have a sinus infection. Then I began my ramble, this is when his eyes glaze and a slight smile is on his face just to make me think he is listening.

So I said without pausing: "I keep taking my temperature but although no temperature has registered yet, this pain cannot be good for my eggs. My little babies need all the energy they can get from me and a fever would be very bad. My mucous when I can blow my nose is not discolored and I know that is one of the first signs of a sinus infection even though I have never had a sinus infection and the reason I think it is my sinuses and not hormonal is because it is on the left side of my face and warm compresses seem to help sometimes but not enough and I am afraid if it gets any worse I will become more nauseous and then begin vomiting which will really play havoc on my ovaries and eggs."

M. said: "I think you got bit by a mosquito and have West Nile Virus"

"that too" I said without missing a beat.

Now he calls me Xena or Gabriella. I didn't know who Gabriella was but apparently she is Xena's side kick who is not quite the Warrior Princess that Xena is. ???

So, I'm Xena his Warrior Princess when I am very impressive and I am Gabriella when I am impressing him less so.

Today, I am Gabriella.

I am getting a lot of chores done in preparation for the coming week. M. just went to the grocery store for me. He is so awesome right now.

It is afternoon here and so far no headache - Praise Jesus! Please, please let me feel good today and while you're at it, can you please give me a miracle?

Now excuse me if you will, Xena has just entered the building to kick Worry's ass.

My sharps container is getting full and my box of meds is getting empty.

Today, I started with my Cetrotide so that is a whopping three injections at a time.

I am getting worse with my injections. I have two bruises on my stomach and one super duper bruise on my left thigh. Yesterday, I somehow dropped the syringe just after I stabbed next to my belly button, the needle stayed in but the syringe handle pointed to the floor, completely vertical. Just the thought of what that needle was doing makes me shiver.

Last night I didn't sleep as well but I did take a 2 hour nap late yesterday afternoon. Deep breathing helps.

It appears that I should have been taking the Antagon at night.

Dr. Beautiful mentioned it Tuesday morning "you're taking the Antagon at night right?"

Beautiful Ovaried Me: "no.....both in the morning. I was never told any different."

Dr. Beautiful: "that's fine."

Fast forward to yesterday.

Nice Nurse who was called into my room to explain Cetrotide to me: "You're injecting the Antagon at night, right?"

Beautiful Ovaried Me: "no. I was never told that. Last time I was on Follistim and was instructed to do that in the morning. No one ever said any different with this IVF. So I did what I did last time."

Nice Nurse: "Does Dr. Beautiful know?" I nodded yes. "Okay then. It will be okay. Sometimes Dr. Beautiful has the ovum donor patients take the Antagon in the morning. Now, back to your Cetrotide. You really are reading too much into this."

Beautiful Ovaried Me: "It is incredibly confusing. None of these meds are the same as my last IVF. Antagon says 400 IU but it is really 600 IU. Repronex box says 75IU but if you read closely it says 75IU of FSH and 75IU of LH but that is not to add up to 150IU so I do a double dose which I never did for IVF#1. I AM nervous about all of this. I need to be confident that I am doing everything correctly."

Nice Nurse: "You're doing fine."

I smiled my big smile and told her thank you for her time.

I feel like I am kissing the ass of everyone at that place. I am so desperate for this to work. For some reason, I think being friendly and nice will up the odds of success.


M. is PISSED. There really is NO excuse for them to not have instructed me better with my meds. Fighting with Dumbass Nurse took everything out of me before I had to get on my raft. I told him I needed him to increase the concrete around my pool of calm. The raft I am laying on is swaying a bit from the ripples that have penetrated.

M. paid the IVF#2 balance in full on Monday so it like buying a car that has a 20% chance of coming home with you. Actually, that is not a good analogy. It is like buying a dream and then living with the pain of failure for the rest of your life.

M. calls me his Warrior Princess now all the time. No Julianna, I am now his Warrior Princess.

I tried to not get too upset about the "follicles are not growing as fast" comment from yesterday. Last night I got all of my IVF#1 information and compared the appointment dates. They did ultrasound #1 on Day 8 and ultrasound #2 on day 11 and that is when they were huge and I had to trigger that night.

This IVF, I had my first ultrasound on day 7 and the second ultrasound on day 9 so OF COURSE my measurements are not going to be the same as last time. It makes me feel better anyway.

I am the Queen of my own reality.

Wait until I get to transfer! I have never made it that far and I will celebrate in a big way. I am not above begging my doctor to put in pretend embryos should the worse occur like last time. My babies will be so happy to be inside of me. I WILL be pregnant then. I don't care what anyone else says. I will be pregnant as soon as my embryos are inside of me.


That's my reality and I'm happy in it.

I am just getting home. Four hours round trip is tiring. I did stop and shop while I was up that way.

I am so very tired this IVF. When the afternoon comes around, I can only think of napping. I have had some nausea with this IVF also that wasn't there before. It is only in the afternoons though and seems to get better when I eat.

Although my doctor does not volunteer follicle counts etc...and the details will only make me worry about something I have no control over, I did count real fast the number of measurements she took today. I counted 10 - equal right and left ovaries.

My doctor did say I am not growing as fast as I did last time. My retrieval was actually a day earlier than predicted with IVF#1. I could get worried about what "not growing as fast" could indicate but I cannot work myself into a frenzy.

I know it sounds like a broken record, but I am doing the best I can do. I can do no more than this.

It is out of my hands.

Dr. Beautiful doesn't want to see me again until early Sunday morning. I have a feeling I'll trigger that night and retrieval may be Tuesday.

Until then, happy egg thoughts. They have quite the challenge ahead of them.

So, today was my last day of work for 2 weeks. The next time they see me, my fate will have been determined.

I found myself looking into the eyes of a dear woman I work with and wondered what will she see in me when I come back in 2 weeks. I can be so freaky, weird, sensitive like that sometimes.

I work on Tuesday's and Wednesday's, I'm very lucky. My retrieval is scheduled for next Tuesday (+or-) so I arranged for time off knowing that I would not be fit to work. I pray I will not be fit for work! THAT would be a nightmare.

I am slowing down a bit. I am completely exhausted as the day progresses. I still feel twinges and tweaks and I can't walk as fast as normal.

I need lots and lots of beautiful eggs. I try to only think positive, great thoughts.

I love being in my pool of calm. I can get so annoyed and irritated with people on most days and I just don't allow myself right now.

A lady was flipping me off and not letting me merge onto the freeway today. I don't know what her problem was, I mean what does she do when she is trying to merge? I had my blinker on and was going with the speed of traffic. She wouldn't let me in front and then would slow down when I tried to pull behind. She was flipping me off and calling me asshole. NICE.

Normally, I would have challenged her. Today, I just smiled and waved. What a sad life she must have. I truly cannot be bothered by idiots. All of my energy is going to calm, loving thoughts.

I am so proud of myself. I tell myself that often. I need lots of encouragement. M. is calling me his Warrior. He is very proud of me.

I don't bitch, I don't complain, I am quite boring.

I don't have the energy to fight or argue or get my panties in a wad about anything.

SO UNLIKE ME!

I have my next ultrasound tomorrow a.m.. I will come home and (after posting here), I will take a nap.

I drink lots of water and sleep, sleep, sleep.

My belly is bloated. I am doing the absolute best I can do.

Dr. Beautiful said MY ovaries are beautiful. I blushed :)

I don't know how many follicles or if some are dominant.

I will only worry and like my mother tells me "worrying is borrowing trouble and who would ever want to do that!".

I told my doctor that I only wanted to know if things looked as good as last time. She said it looks just as good as last time.

Happy Me.........Happy happy me.

I did peak and saw more follicles on my left ovary this time. Last time my right ovary was the over-achiever.

Please remind me to not call my mother so much. That is when I lose it. I am so far away from my family and the distance is never as pronounced as when I need my mother. I called her with the update and she said "I love you so much darlin' and I am so very proud of you and you know that I have so many people praying for you."

I lost it. It just hurts my heart so much. I have an awesome mother. She has a prayer chain going for me in South Carolina.

I had to inoculate my thighs. Gonal F on the right and Repronex on the left.

My girlfriend left this morning so it was up to me. For IVF#1, I gave myself one shot and it resulted in a bruise for 3 weeks. I mean really, bruises don't ever last that long! It takes me 15 minutes to mix and prepare for my shots. I am so nervous that I will do something wrong that I check and double check what I am doing. It is truly confusing and I don't know how most people do it.

I am a dental hygienist and I give injections all the time. I work in a periodontal practice so on most of my patients I am numbing up half of their mouth at a time. That is about 6 injections for most people. I have to find the nerve. There are holes (foramens) in the skull where nerves come out so you have to palpate and estimate where each persons nerve should be. It is not always there, so sometimes you have to re-adapt and re-inject to get teeth numb. If you saw how long the needle is for the bottom injection and even worse saw how far it has to go in the jaw (towards the ear at an angle) it would make most people faint. Different people need different anesthetics etc... so I am used to mixing and changing and I always have to document how many ml of solution I used. So....injections are not new to me.

I have given myself injections in my own mouth because I didn't like the way a certain dentist numbed his patients. The needle should never be moved all around and many dentists do that. I go in gently and inject slowly (makes the ph not burn or hurt as much) and then slowly pull straight out when I am done. Dentistry can be painless and I pride myself on my injection technique.

So why, why is it that I have a tiny sub q needle in my hand and I can not bring myself to stab my skin? I did faint one time when a friend was practicing drawing blood on me over and over again. I have to turn my head any time my blood is drawn so it must be related to this.

I have to get used to it. I have to inject myself from now on. My husband will not give me my HCG so that will be a chore when I have to inject my hip myself. A friend at work said she would drive over to my house, whatever time (I told her sometimes the trigger shot is 3:00 a.m.)she said she would be happy to give me the shot. She used to be a phlebotomist in London and did give me several shots at work during IVF#1. I may have to take her up on it.

The deal was from the very beginning that M. would not and could not give me shots. He cannot do it. Therefore, I must bring myself to do it.

So, how do people do it so easily when they have no injection experience? I mean truly! I have to mix my gonal F and even though the box says there is 400IU, the nurse told me there is really 600IU. Since my dose is 300IU, I mix it and pull half out and save the other half for the next day. My Repronex is 150IU, so I am to draw .8 ml of dilutant and inject it in one 75IU vial and then draw that up and inject it another 75IU vial and then draw that up into the syringe and change the needle. I was also told to draw air in the syringe EVERY time I am going to draw fluid up because it causes pressure in the vial and makes it draw up easier. So, I am drawing up air, inserting syringe in dilutant,injecting the air, drawing up the solution in my syringe, withdrawing the syringe, injecting the dilutant in the vial with medicine, withdrawing syringe, drawing up more air, inserting needle back in vial to inject the air and then drawing every tiny drop of solution up and avoiding bubbles and then I change to a fresh, sharp smaller needle to inject myself. The Repronex has even more steps due to the double dose.

Is it any wonder my hands are shaking and I am hoping I am not missing a step? So, please tell me, how other people do this who don't even have injection experience? If I could afford it, I would have a private nurse come to do this for me every day. It is WAY too much pressure.

Yesterday, I was getting a bit aware (worry would not be a good word) because my ovaries didn't twinge and tweak as much. I need them to keep twinging and tweaking. I welcome the pain. BRING IT ON!

I am feeling the tweaks a bit this morning since my injections.


My ultrasound is tomorrow morning. I am very excited (anxious would not be a good word). I am trying to stop myself from using worrisome words so therefore worry becomes aware; anxious becomes excited.

I will try to be like I was before. I only want to see Dr. Beautiful pleased. If she is pleased, I am pleased. I do not want to know the numbers or sizes or dominant or whatever else there could be. I only want to hear "pleased", "wow, you are responding well", that is it. Any other information will send me racing home to spend hours on the internet dissecting and worrying about something. Worry is the Beast that I must fight. That Beast is not allowed in my house right now.

It is what it is. I am doing the absolute best that I can do. I cannot ask myself to perform any better.

I will just relax. Except, of course, for the 15 minutes I am mixing and measuring and injecting my meds.

Everything revolves around my beautiful ovaries and the lovely eggs that are stepping up to the plate.

My injections have gone well. Palm Springs was wonderful and a nice distraction. I can definitely feel my ovaries working overtime and I have slowed down a bit. My friend is giving me my injections in the hip so that my thighs and stomach will be ripe for the picking when I start injecting myself. She goes back to Florida on Monday, just in time for another Hurricane! Unbelievable. Her electricity was just restored but still there is no cable. I have enjoyed her being here for the past 10 days.

In addition to Gonal F and double dose of Repronex, I am also taking the Letrozole (placebo?) tablets. I am part of a study so I could be taking placebo pills. In researching on the internet, it looks like if I do get the real pills, there is a chance I could get one or two more eggs than with regular IVF treatment. Intellectually, if I was in charge of a study like this, I would surely choose a woman who responded well to meds only two months prior. That in and of itself would be a good comparison if the letrozole was a contributing factor. I had eleven good eggs last time and anything over that will be awesome. So, making a long story longer, I think I am on the letrozole.

Letrozole is similar to Clomid. I was on Clomid a year ago and swore I would NEVER take that again. For me to say that, and I want a baby more than anything in this world, should say something. Clomid tricks the brain. It is trying to make the brain think it didn't trigger an egg so you get psychological side effects from the drug also. I felt antsy and my right ovary was so enlarged that I could not bend over for a month. That ovary was sore for 3 months. I really think they will find out that Clomid causes ovarian damage. I was miserable.

Letrozole teases the brain like Clomid does but is not supposed to have as many side effects. We shall see. So far, I am doing okay. I need as many eggs as I can get as this is our last attempt at IVF. I am willing to walk on hot coals if my odds are elevated. I need eggs. Lots and lots of beautiful eggs.

The injectable IVF meds are like fertilizer for your ovaries. It doesn't trick the brain it just juices up the ovaries to encourage a lot of eggs to step up to the plate that month. The study is trying to find out if letrozole added to the injectables will help increase the number of eggs. I hope it is a useful study.

I am resting a lot and drinking a lot of water. I put my hands on my belly at night and caress my stomach. I take deep breaths regularly to make my body relax. I need peace and calm.

I am very happy that I am doing this and am grateful for the medical technology that even makes this possible. When I start to feel the stress of "this is it", I remind myself how miserable I would be right now if I wasn't doing IVF#2. I fought like hell to be able to try again so there is no sense in being worried about it. I would really be upset if I wasn't where I am right now, trying again.

I am betting that rescue ICSI caused so many chromosome abnormalities with IVF#1. There is a lot of data to support that theory. My very low FSH (3.4) and my great hormone levels and medical results makes me refuse to believe that all of my eggs are done. The older you get, the poorer quality. I should have 60% poor quality embryos, that leaves 40% good ones. I refuse to believe that 100% of my eggs are cooked. I am betting that immediate ICSI will take care of whatever mysterious fertilization problem we have been having and thus our babies will be given a door to enter this world.

I imagine that my egg shell is just a bit thick and the sperm cannot penetrate. We could have tried for 3 more years, I had almost a years worth of eggs with IVF#1 and the sperm could not get through. ICSI will solve the problem. That is my story and I'm sticking to it. I will get pregnant this time.

Oh what the hell, I'm on a roll.........I will get pregnant with twins. I will have twelve eggs and eleven of them will divide and conquer. At day three, my doctor will put in four beautiful eight celled embryos and I will get pregnant with twins. I like that movie. I like that movie a lot!

So I am off to Palm Springs with my best friend.

I wish we were renting a convertible and driving with our heads in scarves and cool JackieO sunglasses. Wouldn't that be cool? I'll give my first injections to myself at 10:00 a.m. while riding down the freeway. Great way to initiate myself I think!

The rest of my injections will be in a cabana with a pool boy watching perhaps?

As I said before, my best friend Uta is here from Florida because of the Hurricane mess and my husband has offered to send us to Palm Springs for a few days. Before you start thinking how absolutely perfect M. sounds, I should tell you that we are completely getting on his nerves, talking and talking and talking. He travels a lot and gets free nights at resorts so he is giving us some of his free night stays. Not that I'm not grateful!

My lovely M. did say for me to get a nice stone massage ( I LOVE stone massages - they are awesome!). I am still trying to talk him into a day of beauty. He is not going for it. Looks like a stone massage is it. FINE! Baby steps. Baby steps people. I'll work on him a bit more from my cell phone when he starts to miss me a bit more. I sound like a bitch don't I?

Before you say yes, you should know that I cater to my husband. DO NOT LET YOUR HUSBANDS READ ANY FURTHER!!!! DO NOT READ OUT LOUD!!!! I cook a home cooked meal and serve M. dinner every night. I take him his plate and I retrieve his plate after he has finished his meal. He treats me like a queen though, opens doors for me etc... so I will cater to him as long as he holds up his end of the bargain.

So.........back to my injections. I start tomorrow. I am going to be injecting myself this time. The first IVF I had help. My neighbor who is a NP gave me all of my injections. She is now pregnant and showing, before, she was pregnant with morning sickness. Something about her giving me my injections while complaining of how absolutely ill she was that makes me not want her to help me again.

The only injection I gave myself last time resulted in a HUGE bruise on my stomach for THREE WEEKS! I could be dramatic and call it a hematoma but I don't think it was quite that bad. I can tell you that I hated looking at that bruise for 2 1/2 weeks after my hellacious failure. It was like sticking needles in my eyes to see that left-over bruise. I was completely and profoundly devastated after my IVF failure.

Shhhhhhhhh..... I am really very very scared. I am trying to be so brave and positive and perfect. I need to be brave and positive and am stepping up to the plate. Deep, deep down I am very scared of my life if final IVF#2 is a failure. I will have to see my life motherless. We will not adopt. I will go into that later. It will be a long post. That post is in my head and I will organize it better while I am in IVF#2 hell. IVF#2 hell will now be called Pollyanna#2. IVF#2 will NOT fail because I was scared or stressed. IVF#2 will fail only because God does not want me to have children. I am stepping up to the plate and ready to perform. I am entering my famous pool of calm. I am in the warm water, my husband is my concrete protecting me from the idiots of the world and from stress and I am getting ready to get on my raft.

I need to relax and drift and drink lots of water, get plenty of rest and let my beautiful ovaries do their thing. I will walk slowly and I will caress my belly. I will talk to my beautiful eggs and encourage them to be strong. I will be the motherly lioness that gives them hope and makes them want to live. They have quite the struggle ahead of them. I am their energy and their strength.

So! CHEERS to IVF#2! *clink* *clink* (quoting Marla)




















P.S. To Jen. I don't how to respond to you. I am new to this blog world and the email that I got about your post was "anonymous poster" so I am quite sure it would not get to you. You wrote:

"Okay, I have a question, but first let me tell you about the similarities. I too am undergoing IVF @ Stanford and have had a run in with one very nasty woman. Coincidence? This is our first and only bout with IVF. Tomorrow my husband & I are going in so he can learn how to give me those lovely little injections. : ) What ever it takes! Right?

I am sorry that you had to deal with such a thoughtless person. I pray that you are given one, two, three babies and you all live happily ever after.

Much love,
Jen "

It is truly a coincidence! To be honest, none of the nurses knock my socks off, I think deep down they are confused as well. The nurse I call "Dumbass" is in charge of ovum donor (SCARY!) so I doubt you will have to deal with her. I think the nurses are stressed and busy and aren't trained well. Try to stay calm. The doctors are fantastic and the embryologists are second to none. I researched a lot and the embryologists at Stanford are AWESOME and that is really what is important. I would love to get together with you sometime if you wish. I will be going that way a lot the next 2 weeks. When do you start IVF? It is very scary when it is the "final" or "one and only". You can email me and I will then be able to respond properly. Take care and good luck! I wish my husband would give me injections! He can't even watch! I'll be thinking of you!

Fight or Flight

I am flighting.

M. has offered to send Uta and I to Palm Springs for several days. We are to leave Thursday and come back late Saturday.

It will be nice to start my IVF#2 injections while on vacation. I'll sit in the cabana and inject my fake tanned thighs.

I got my meds this morning from the Boston pharmacy with a nice note.

"Dear Julianna,

This shipment does not contain Repronex. We are back ordered on Repronex and expect it to arrive to our facilities on Friday ...........etc......."

FRIDAY!

I am to start Repronex and Bravelle on Thursday. I am to give myself my first injections while traveling down the freeway Thursday morning at 10:00 a.m..

I had it all planned. I live near Monterey, CA. Palm Springs is a 5+ hour drive. Uta and I were to package my meds like a mother packs for her baby. My babies (meds) were going to be in a cooler. Ice at the bottom. Sodas, cold cuts, cheese then a hand towel then my meds. I don't want frozen meds. I just need them to stay cool.

I called a nurse at Stanford to see if they could call in a prescription STAT. I needed the meds ordered today and overnighted to my office tomorrow. Given that I can't count on anyone to do anything right, I had little faith that this med problem would get solved.

The nice nurse was not in so Dumbass Mini-Me came to the phone with a serious attitude. I told her my situation. I was being ever so friendly and pretending not to notice that I knew who she was. She said in a curt voice that she could call it in to a pharmacy in CA for me.

Surprise, surprise.....she DID call it in and I spoke to the nice pharmacist and he said he would overnight it to me at my office tomorrow - not to worry.

I called Dumbass Mini-Me and told her "I just wanted to call and say thank you so very much for taking care of my dilemma". She said it was her pleasure. Hmmmm... making progress.

Dumbass Mini-Me is Dumbass' good friend. She was actually VERY pleasant when I called to thank her.

"You get more with sugar.........." I can just hear my mother talking to me.

I so do not want to fight anymore. I am so tired of fighting.

I am going to Palm Springs. I am going to start my injections while on vacation with my best friend and we actually have another friend coming from LA to be with us. It should be a nice time. I won't be able to drink pina colada's at the pool with them but I will have a glass of wine with dinner. I drank wine last time and it didn't hurt anything. Red wine is good .........right?

I was thinking.......not everything is bad.

I was laying on my stomach in bed last night and I thought with my face scrunched on the pillow, I am going to make wrinkles like this. Then I thought........Hey........perhaps I am smoothing a wrinkle. It doesn't all have to be bad.

I was attacked by a shark in July. Just before IVF#1, I was at Ponte Vedra Beach in Florida and was bumped and bumped and bumped by a shark. It was a baby. Perhaps four feet long and it was circling me and being very aggressive. I have a scream that is tribal. It is involuntary and it happens when I am scared. My tribal scream can be heard for miles. If I tell you everyone was leaving the water and mothers were running to pull their children from the crashing waves, you should believe me. A lifeguard came to save me and said it was just a baby shark that was curious. After I went ashore, I actually thought it was a good sign. Like how rare is it to be attacked by a shark? Probably as rare as being struck by lightening or winning the lottery or me becoming pregnant.

Good impossible things can happen like bad impossible things.

If I think I may get cancer, I should also believe I can have a baby.

Why is it always negative? So, wine is good. It relaxes me and makes my eggs grow. I sleep soundly and am relaxed after a glass of wine. Not more than one, but one is good.

I am getting positive people. I am getting ready to enter my pool of calm.

I am ready to be struck by lightening. The lightening of a baby inside of me.

I am finally starting to feel like I am up to the challenge of IVF#2. I begin injections on Thursday and I need to get calm.

My best friend is here with me from Palm Beach, Florida. She did not come here to get me out of my funk but came because she has been without electricity for a week and with Ivan coming, she decided to get on a plane while she could. She is single (divorced)and is a great source of strength. She never had any children although it would have been nice had it happened. She didn't let it sadden her either. Uta used to be a nanny and still carries that motherly lioness within her. She makes you fight. She pushes you to get up and keep plowing away.

I feel like yelling to the world "BRING IT ON!".

She will be here until next Monday.

Uta is from Germany originally and still has a thick German accent. M. has a thick Boston accent and I have a mild Southern accent. They can't understand each other so I play interpreter most of the time. We were at a wine function yesterday and people were wondering how in the hell the three of us got together.

Uta has been my best friend for 15 years. We lived near each other in Santa Monica. I was 25 when I moved there from South Carolina to explore my acting talents. Needless to say, I got my dental hygiene license in California so I could make a living.

When Uta first met M. she said she was shocked. He is not like anyone I had ever dated before. I had been in love MANY times (such a romantic) and had been engaged three times (such a whore). M. was it for me. I didn't care who liked him or not. M. can be an asshole. He is extremely bright (PhD in Physics and a Masters in Computer Science) but what I liked most about him was his integrity. He didn't bullshit. He didn't care what people thought of him and didn't try to impress anyone. Everything added up with him. I never, ever, had a question mark go off in my head after something he did or said. I was used to a lot of question marks with men. M. was refreshing.

M. is being a trouper with us girls and I know he likes his quiet time. Uta and I talk incessantly so it will be a LONG 10 days for him.

I am not able to catch up with all of my favorite blogs like I had been so I am grabbing blog time when I can. I think I became too addicted to this blog world. I was laying on my ass reading, instead of going out and living. I have never felt as validated as I have since I discovered blogs. I have found a community to which I belong.

So, if I don't respond like I used to or I don't comment about your good news or sad news as soon as I normally would, it is because I have found someone else to play with. So, as I wave and giggle while retreating, I hope you will still play with me when I come back to this playground with my head down and all alone. Take that back! I will come back to this playground with a smile on my face and eager.

I saw Dr. Beautiful today for my baseline ultrasound. I really do like her and the embryology part of Stanford, just their support staff sucks. I do notice a high turnover rate of employees so perhaps that is a clue to something.

I got most of my promised meds today. Nothing Dumbass has been involved with has been correct so I did not expect all of the "donated" meds to be in my box. After my appointment, I went to my car and opened the box I had so abruptly been given by Dumbass Mini-Me (Dumbass' friend). I sat in my car for 30 minutes trying to get my head straight. The nurse staff thinks I am a bitch because of the ass chewing I gave Dumbass so of course they have a cold demeanor with me. I could care less. I just need my meds and the correct ones would be nice.

Am I being unreasonable? Is that too much to ask? That I have the correct meds before I begin injections next week?

There were meds in my box that were not on my protocol and I already know what I am paying for from the pharmacy in Boston. Those meds come here Monday morning. So comparing my protocol with meds in the box and meds on order, I was missing some key ingredients.

I have no Antagon, no HCG, and I had Bravelle in my box but not on my protocol.

I live 2 hours away so I needed to get it straight. I am just so, SO exhausted from the fighting, and debating and questioning.

I wrote three questions on a sheet of paper. Headed back up the elevator with my box and told the receptionist that I needed to speak to a nurse that I was just terribly confused.

I showed the nurse (a new nurse) everything and she agreed that I had incomplete meds. Ends up Bravelle is Gonal F so I am to use that when it says Gonal F. She didn't even know that. I don't know how they thought I was supposed to know that. If I wanted to go there, it could throw me into a spin. I have to chill out now. I cannot give my power away. The world is full of idiots and it is up to me to stay on top of anything pertaining to me. I cannot save the world from dumbass' but I can save myself from them. The nurse said that she would ask Dumbass about the Antagon and the HCG when she got in at 1:00 and that she would have her call me. My heart sank. It is a never ending fucking nightmare.

Worst case, I have no Antagon or HCG and when I go in next week I will have someone call it in. This is ridiculous. Truly, what do the stupid patients do? Or the ones who don't have the patience to stay on top of things?

I need to carry on and not be affected. It takes 100 times the effort to be relaxed and happy and not let others compromise your stress. I have to take control of my stress. I am venting here and hopefully that will help release it once and for all.

I have to just keep telling myself: "Everything is okay. Everything will be fine. I have what I need to get started and the rest will come somehow".



So.....anyway...... I have a two hour journey to Stanford. When I arrive there, I usually go to the restroom. I don't like talking about number 2 but I do manage to go after I have had a cup of coffee and an egg mcmuffin on the drive. Today was no exception. I like it that that (poo) stuff is not in the way of the ultrasound. I don't really know if it matters, I have never heard either way.

I like to be clean. No one was in the restroom so I even wet a paper towel and went back into the stall and washed myself just to be sure. This is TMI but a fair warning is ahead.

When I was sitting on the exam table, heels in the stirrups, elbows on the knees -I saw something. A tub of wet wipes on a cabinet in the room - like the ones used for babies. I thought - How very nice of them! They must know most women want to be clean! I hopped down, snagged and pulled the wet sheet and wiped my ass. Thank you dear Lord that I did not wipe the front first.

"Burn" is not a good word for what I felt instantly. It took my breath away and I knew immediately that something was terribly wrong. My ass was hot and hurting and burning and itching INSTANTLY. "OH Voya", "oh voya" was all I could say. I grabbed my sheet that had been draping my knees and wiped and rubbed frantically. No help. I kept looking at the door knob knowing that it would turn at any minute. I opened drawers, all of the drawers, and I found some little package wipes like those used after urine samples and I tore several open and got relief after the third.

I then climbed back on my exam table with my heels in position. My doctor walked in at that very moment. She said she was sorry for keeping me waiting. I told her that there was no need to apologize. I don't think she noticed my red monkey butt because she was looking at the screen so much.

FYI: There are no baby wipes in the exam rooms of RE clinics. They are the biohazardous bacterial killers that disinfect/ sterilize an operatory.

Needless to say, my ass is clean.

Yippee..........dance..........dance............yippee yippee dance

Got message from Boston pharmacy regarding new prescription order and guess what folks! The sum total is $1,600.00! Yippee, yippee ......dance .........dance.

I don't know what happened or how but I am just thankful.

Perhaps it was my mother's prayers for dumbass. Yes. My lovely mother. When I was crying to her on the phone (she lives 3000 miles away and I was needing someone to unscrew me from the ceiling I had myself so wrapped up), when I was so upset, my mother said she needed to change her prayers and that she would start praying for the nurse.

God bless her.

I said "yeah, pray she gets in an accident tomorrow or pray the hitman's bullet doesn't miss."

My mother was horrified that I would say such a thing. I thought it was funny.

Someone called in a new prescription. I will keep my appointment tomorrow (of course). I cannot even be bothered anymore with the stresses of life and if anyone brings it up tomorrow, I think I will just not get into it.

It is too stressful to remember and too stressful to think about. I need to move on and not give her any more power.

I have my meds and I have my IVF#2 now.

Thank you. thank you. thank you.

I have spent all morning trying to get my fiasco straightened out.

Ended up even worse.

How do you spill the beans when there are too many to take? How do you choose which beans to pull out in order to get your point across and yet not to overload?

I spoke to a nurse (a new nurse), I tried to keep it simple.

Told new nurse what dumbass said "Don't worry about the meds. I can take care of the meds. Made husband say yes to IVF#2 because of meds being covered. Have $5,700.00 worth of meds waiting to be sent to begin injections next week. Dumbass isn't returning my phone calls. We will not be able to move forward with IVF #2 if we have to pay an additional $5,700.00 that we weren't counting on. I am left chasing her around for over a week and I have no idea what is going on. There are even meds on my order that aren't in my protocol." I then asked if she could help. I need my meds by Friday.

New nurse put me on hold.

Dumbass comes to phone. says: That she is in charge of ovum donor now and should have never said she would help me. That letrozole study is getting me meds and she is out of the picture. Why do I keep trying to get her involved.

I reminded her that letrozole study only covers small amt of meds and reminded her of our discussion about me entering the study or not. My big question was "if I enter the study, does that effect the meds you were going to get me"- Reminded her that she said "no, I can still get you your meds".

I read a lot about letrozole on the internet. I knew that I could be a part of a study that Stanford was conducting but that only a SMALL amount of meds were covered. My being in the letrozole study had nothing to do with the miniscule amount of meds that it is giving to participants.

The rest of the conversation resulted in her bitchy attitude towards me.

I asked her: "what does don't worry about the meds, i can take care of the meds mean to you? Does that mean that I was to assume you didn't mean it. Does that mean that I should assume that I will get a $5,700.00 pharmacy bill?"

no response

"What does "don't worry about the meds" mean?"

she is silent

"I am a dental hygienist in a gum surgeons office (the stupid bitch wouldn't have known what a periodontist is so I had to keep it simple for her). Let's say you are my patient and I say to you when you are preparing for your surgery, don't worry about the meds, I can get you the meds? Is it unreasonable of you to be shocked when you get a call from a pharmacy to pay $5,700 for the meds they need to send you? Is it then unreasonable of you to try to get it straightened out?"

She said: "we are not a clinic".

Really? I thought I was driving 2 hours and paying cash because I always heard what a great clinic Stanford University is.

She said: "I told you I could fill out compassionate care for you to get some meds. I told you that the same meds in the study are what I was going to be able to get you. When you said that you were going to be in the study, then I didn't need to be involved anymore. You do not get compassionate care and study meds. Do you think that we are clinic?"

The bitch said the clinic word again. Yes. She said it. She shouldn't have. Sent me over the edge.....it did........it did.

Me: "So let me get this straight. When you said 'i can get you the meds' it meant that you were presenting yourself as a clinic and I should have known better? How very foolish of me. I should have gotten the riddle and known you were just kidding! The $33,000.00 drop in the bucket we are doling out should have clued me in to the fact that I am not going to a clinic and how very foolish of me to think you would be suggesting anything close to what a clinic would do."

" How very stupid of me to chase you around like a child in Tijuana asking for a hand out. We pay CASH. In my world $5,700.00 is a lot of money."

" $5,700.00 is significant. Good for you if it isn't in your world. Speaking of worlds, I don't know which world you are living in because it is clearly not mine. I have NEVER heard the words compassionate care and the conversation that you think you had with me was in your other world. That conversation was in some other place, it was not with me. Just so you know, this is rather important to me. I pay attention. I don't forget things. I have an IQ of 156 and I have a good memory. Your recollection of what you told me is false. You are either incredibly stressed and confused or you lie. Either way, you are interfering with a very important part of my life. I take it quite seriously and how dare you, you a person who is in charge of such important things as embryos and lives and parents be so condescending and rude. How dare you speak to me as if I am an irritant in your life. How dare you make my life so much more stressful than it ever needed to be."

She said "I will talk to the Dr. in charge of the study and see what meds are covered. I should never have tried to help you"

I said "So now you are saying you don't even know what meds were in that study? And back to your helping me. NO. No you shouldn't have. Your kind of help I don't need. Do not ever try to help me again. Thank you very much"

She said she would talk to Dr. Letrozole and then hung up on me. I'm sure she is running around telling everyone what a bitch I am etc...etc...etc...

Spoke with my husband. Too much for him to even understand. He is a one sentence type of guy.

He said "they said they'd take care of meds, now they say they won't so we'll wait until there IS a study like last time".

He doesn't get it that my eggs are cooking. That I have been on BCPs and have my first appt. Friday and I have my days covered the week I am to get my eggs retrieved at the end of the month. Actually, my office already rescheduled my patients for those dates.

Two things:

I can hear my mother - "don't cut off your nose to spite your face."

I can hear Confucius - "if you can't move forward, quit beating your head against the wall"

Sometimes things just aren't meant to be. Like perhaps all of the fuck ups before IVF #1 were signals to RUN - DON'T DO IT!

Perhaps these are more signs of what is meant to be or not.

Perhaps life is a struggle and you have to keep fighting and fighting regardless of the signs.

The reality is that it just doesn't appear that this is meant to be right now. It is too much.

Too many bad things.

Too many beans.

Have I told you lately that the world if full of idiots????

That is the challenge my friends:

To remain unaffected by the stupid idiots of this world.

Feel free to allow your eyes to glaze or just skip on over to your next blog. There comes a time in everyone's life where one shitty thing is enough. Three shitty things that happen are more than enough. When more than four shitty things happen, a strange phenomenon occurs. They all cancel each other out into a fog sensory overload. Too much to bare and too much to hear.

You know. If a friend tells you about her bad day. By the time she gets past the third bad thing that happened, well, the fog rolls in. Feel free to skip the rest until I type "DO NOT FUCK WITH ME" in its own paragraph. Go ahead..............scroll............. Here comes the fog:

Just the facts:

:: M. did NOT want to do another IVF. He feels the results of IVF#1 couldn't be more conclusive.

:: The main reason and deciding factor that M. decided to go ahead with IVF #2 was because the nurse said THREE times "don't worry about the meds........I can get you the meds."

Now people. For those of you who do not already know, the meds alone are $5,756.00.

::We have to pay cash BEFORE IVF begins. Yes, M. writes a check. Something about only being married three years that his money is still his money. The sum total of the IVF#1 check was somewhere around $12,000.00. NOT including the meds! Last time PGD study got us our meds and this time a nurse said "I can get you the meds". CLUE PHONE IS RINGING when she is whispering every time she says it! HELLO!

So in two weeks, M. thinks he is to write another $12,000.00 check and that doesn't include the assisted hatching that I will convince him of when the time comes. I think that is another $2,000.00.

Now people, if anyone is still with me. The $5,756.00 of meds is a HUGE help. Made M. nod his head in the affirmative as a matter of fact.

:: I am looking at a 2 month IVF total of $30,000.00 (I am not good at math but add IVF #1 + IVF#2= $25,000.00 plus the $5,756.00 for meds plus $2,000.00 for assisted hatching). Change that number people! $33,000.00!!!! IF I am lucky enough to even have embryos transferred! More like a $33,000.00 fart if you ask me. Might as well fart in the dark.

:: I am having to chase that nurse around like a silly 13 year old girlfriend chases her boyfriend. She is no longer my nurse. She is now in charge of the ovum donor program! Can you imagine what those people are going through? Paying for IVF and a donor with this idiot in charge of the meds and scheduling?

First IVF cycle she:

:: forgot to call in my BCP RX,

:: did not call in my FSH order on the all important day 3 (she stamped a red "FAXED" in my chart. Sometimes the domino of idiots occurs where one idiot fell into another one. Like if my fax actually did get misplaced at the hospital in the town I live in. Unlucky for Dumbass, I know the CEO of the hospital and his wife is a NP and they had their good friend at the lab waiting all day for that fax. My NP friend finally wrote the order for me so that I could finally get my blood drawn)

:: My first ultrasound appointment with Dr. Beautiful resulted with me spilling the beans on my little dumb nurse. I told my doctor: "I will hang by my toe nails and sing a show tune to have a baby......but I need a little bit of help here". She is the one who pointed to the red "FAXED" stamp and the note that the BCPs were called in etc... I couldn't bare to tell her that those notes in my chart were a lie. I KNOW they were a lie. But, hey, I had to move on. It was time for me to enter my pool of calm.

:: Next appointment, dumbass asked urgently why I hadn't gone to genetic counseling yet (it was mandatory for the PGD study I was in) and why I didn't read my information about the fact - I ENDED UP READING MY ENVELOPE PACKAGE 10 or MORE TIMES AND THERE WAS NOT ONE MENTION OF GENETIC COUNSELING - the bitch forgot to tell me and tried to make me feel like an idiot. Evil people. EVIL.

:: My first ultrasound after stimulation was not even in the appointment book. Dr. Beautiful had to come quick just before a retrieval surgery to look at me with her vaginal camera.

:: I was one day late taking my injections of Follistim because dumbass didn't take care of the PGD meds. Yes. I had no meds for day 1 of stim. M. had to drive two days in a row to Stanford to get them for me.

:: I called 2 weeks after IVF#1 failure and she told me how sorry she was and told me I didn't have any embryos! No?? I was told I had 9. She said "no". Lord help me........but there is more.........

:: When I phoned on a Friday to speak to my doctor about a possible IVF#2, she said that my doctor had left for the day, that she would talk to her on Monday and call me back with what Dr. Beautiful suggested. I finally called her almost a full week later. Guess what people..........the bitch was on vacation all week! That dumbass had the nerve to tell me (a woman crying on the phone) that she would do such and such on a Monday when she KNEW she was going on vacation all that next week. HUH???? Help me out here.

I ended up calling a receptionist to get me in for a consult with Dr. Beautiful. I would drive the 2 plus hours to talk directly with my doctor. I refused to let dumbass be involved.

Now back to the meds. I did not feel comfortable with the verbal "i'll get you your meds" statement.

I was desperate people. I have this never ending faith in human beings that they really just make mistakes and everything from now on will be right. 1 + 1 = 2. I just want things to add up.

Note to Julianna: If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck and acts like a duck, it is a duck. Quit being so surprised.

Not that anyone is still reading, not that it matters, but someone at stanford.edu reads my blog regularly. If you have any pull and if any of this outrages you as much as it does me, check into this nurse...will ya? My name is not usual so it shouldn't be difficult to look me up. I'll sit on a witness stand. I am scheduled for an ultrasound on Friday so I should be even easier to find.

Back to IVF#2.

:: I get a call last week from a pharmacy in Boston that my order has been called in. Yes.
Total = $5,756.00
Pharmacy wants money and wants to mail me the meds. Huh? I thought they were covered.

:: I called dumbass three times last week. Dumbass is not coming to the phone. Dumbass relays message through receptionist that she is not my nurse anymore, that she is in charge of ovum donor now as if I should be impressed with her promotion.

:: I need my meds taken care of before my next ultrasound. I even talked to the doctor in charge of the study I am going to be a part of (letrozole study) to find out what meds are covered in that study. Maybe $1,000.00 worth and even those meds were on the pharmacy list for me to pay for. Dr. Letrozole said that he would get that adjusted and have the nurse call with the updated prescription. "NO!!! NO!!! NOT HER!!!!! Don't let that bitch do anything related to me or my case!!!"- I wanted to scream into the phone.

Here is the dilemma:

I want the meds. I need the meds.

If I piss dumbass off, I will NEVER get the meds she promised.

My new nice nurse knows nothing about the meds and can't get me any meds. Actually, she was surprised when I explained last week why I was still leaving messages for dumbass nurse even after being told of her promotion.

If I get dumbass in trouble after raising more hell than the devil tomorrow, she may "accidentally" drop my embryo filled petri dish in three weeks.

I am prostituting myself. Being nice and friendly because I need something.

If M. has to add meds to his bill, we are canceling.

I AM PISSED.

:: Footnote: Bravelle ($1,200.00 worth)was one of the meds called in and that is not even on my protocol!

:: I am on a completely different protocol than last time. I know because I read my new schedule and was surprised. Why am I on a different protocol when I responded so well last time? I am worried that this is a fuck up.

Recap: Meds were to be taken care of. Meds called in for me to pay for included everything including study meds and even meds not on my protocol. If M. has to pay for meds we are canceling IVF#2.

"What do the stupid people do?" I asked my husband. "What do the stupid people do who just buy the meds that the pharmacy says are ordered?"

"Stupid people never have to deal with IVF, they reproduce like roaches." He answered.

"Oh yeah. I forgot."

I do like my new nurse on the phone. She is just fully unaware of the whispered promises of DUMBASS nurse. I need to get it taken care of tomorrow (Tuesday) which is my work day. How does a dental hygienist talk on the phone while seeing patients? SHE DOESN'T.

Is it any wonder I have been wanting to put my head in an oven for the past week? I have been beaten down. The fog of overload has had me hiding in a cave.

I am getting up. I am getting dressed. I am washing AND blow drying my hair and I may even give myself a little BAIN de SOLEIL tan while I am at it.

The dumbass bitch will wish I was in my pool of calm. I will be entering my pool of calm when I start my injections in 2 weeks.

I have a lot to do until then.


DO NOT FUCK WITH ME

Okay, I can sit on my pity pot or I can soldier on.

I think that deep down, I am really scared. I have so much riding on this last IVF and I am petrified of the road that may lead me down.

The road of childlessness.

I have to suck it up and pull myself together.

I cannot let my fears paralyze me.

The rub of infertility is that you need to relax. The more you relax, the better the results. It is a proven, scientific fact.

I was the Queen of Calm for my first IVF. I never let a negative thought in my mind for one minute. Not one minute.

It was a life changing experience for me. How do you type a sentence like that so that it has some weight? It was a life changing experience for me or perhaps: It was a life changing experience for me ...........I guess you had to be there.

I have always been a "panties in the wad" type of girl. "up in a tizzy" at the slightest aggravation . "drama queen to the max" and "bitch on wheels" wouldn't be far off.

I had to chill out. I had to be unaffected by the world. Whatever happened to me during the day, I did not let it effect me. I imagined myself in a pool of calm and my husband was my concrete shielding me from the idiots of the world that happen upon a human on any given day.

I needed him to make it all happen. I, quite frankly, didn't know if he was up for the job. Could he really make my life calm and peaceful? Could he keep my water still? Could he take all of my stresses away?

I must describe M. a bit here perhaps. He is from Boston. A Yankee if you will. He is very quiet, very self confident and an introvert. However, if someone crosses him, well, he changes. I have seen the change in his face many times - the face of a stranger. If any idiot crosses him or enters his world, he is a ferocious fighter. God forbid a man should cut my husband off in a car because he will follow him home and beg him to get out of his car so he can kick his ass.

My sweet introvert genius husband = an aggressive avenger of the righteous. He is my Superman who fights the bullies of this world.

How would he be when he had to handle my stress too?

When I started my injections and during the process leading to the retrieval, I was in my pool of calm.

"I cannot be bothered" was my mantra.

If I had a child, I would do everything and anything for the good of the child. You need my thumbs?....... Take them....... here. You need my legs?........ Take them........ here. You need my heart? .......Take it......... here.

I took care of my future children (eggs) like a lion mother.

"I cannot be bothered" said I to the every day screw ups with my RE office or nurse.

"I cannot be bothered" said I to the ten people that would normally get on my nerves on any given day.

Who the hell am I to act like I am so knowledgeable now.

I feel like I have been bitch slapped. That is what this so called depression is about.

Yes, I have been bitch slapped.

Do I really have it in me to do it again? To lay on that raft and surrender?

I have a count down of a week and a half before the injections begin.

I am not sure that my gold medal winning husband of IVF #1 is up to the challenge again.

Who am I kidding. I am not sure that I am up for it again.

I have prayer cards that are in my wallet, by my make up mirror, by my phone, by my bedside table in my car and prayer medallions about fertility everywhere you can imagine. (Perhaps I will post the prayers at a later date)

I don't know that someone would meet me and walk away with a feeling of "she is so religious" but I pray every day.

I think that there comes a time in even a non-believers life, where they pray. I cannot imagine an atheist with a dying baby or dying wife who does not pray........hoping it really means something.

I have come to question God. My husband who was raised in private Catholic schools growing up is not religious. I have never heard him pray EXCEPT for the morning we got the call that none of my eleven eggs fertilized.

We came downstairs for breakfast about 2 hours after the call and I told him that I needed him to pray with me. Pray for a miracle. He prayed in Latin that morning at our breakfast table.

When we later found out that 5 fertilized with rescue ICSI and then the next day that everyone was stunned because 9 had miraculously fertilized, I attributed it to all of the prayers.

When we got the call one hour before we were to get the embryos transferred that all of them were severely chromosomally abnormal, we felt like God was punishing us. Why would He let us have such miracles to make it hurt worse?

The pain of hopelessness is crippling. No wonder I have felt crippled for the past month or so.

I need to believe again. In myself. In my husband. In God.

That is it.

I washed my hair.

I did not blow dry it (I have to use a round brush and pull until my eyes water to get it straight and looking perfect and I didn't have it in me today)

Baby steps people.

Baby steps.

I think I may be depressed. I am thrilled to say that I have never been "depressed" before.

I am dramatic. I am emotional and I let myself be sad for however long I need to be. But I would not say that I have ever been the "d" word.

I am part to blame. I let everyone within earshot know that I was doing IVF last month. I even told people the due date (April 2nd). Yes. I did that. Surely these acquaintances winced when I had the nerve to go that far.

Office Manager: "Julianna, can you work extra days next month?"

Sweet Me: "Sorry, no. I am doing IVF in a couple of weeks and by the way, my maternity leave will start in early March. Yep, baby due April 2nd and I will need my bedrest. It will probably be twins. Twins would be nice because M. and I are both Leo's and with twins you usually deliver early, so Aries children would be much more compatible with Leo parents. That's what I was just told anyway. Yep. Fingers crossed on the Aries."



Golf Pro: "Julianna, you still have two more golf lessons with your golf package. Didn't you say you had a tournament coming up? We'll work on your driver."

Sweet Me: "Maybe next year. I'm starting IVF and I won't be twisting my ovaries. I could work on my putting but I don't want to bend so much to pick up my balls. I don't even think I will play much after the first trimester. Don't want to risk anything you know! Took me FOREVER to get pregnant."



Neighbor: (in her front yard with 5 other women golfers and I was getting my mail) "Julianna! Come here! I want you to meet my friends. We need more women golfers at the country club. You'd be a great asset. I told them all about you." neighbor looking at them and saying how she played with me and how "perfectly delightful" I was to play with.

Sweet Me: "Hi! Nice to meet all of you! Oh, thank you so much for inviting me and I so enjoyed playing golf with you too. You are such a doll! I won't be playing golf for a while though. M. and I are getting ready to do IVF. I don't think I will play even after the first trimester because it has been so difficult getting pregnant. Thank you anyway though!"



Wine group organizer: "This month, Sommelier's In Training will be held at Larry's house. The theme will be wines of the Rhone so everyone is bringing a bottle from the Rhone region of France. Don't forget to bring information about the winery you choose and a bit about the particular wine you brought"

Sweet Me: "Oh! I was going to call you! M. and I will not be able to attend S.I.T. for a while. I am starting IVF this week. I don't know when M. and I will be able to attend another meeting because I won't be drinking throughout the pregnancy nor when I am nursing."



Need I say more?



Now I avoid these people like the plague. They smile at me hopefully and I smile back and say "no, it didn't work! But thank God for modern medicine and the opportunity. It truly is amazing what they can do! The way they perform such miracles and can actually retrieve your eggs and then manipulate everything to fertilize. It is just amazing!" The end of my sentence makes it easy to then start talking about anything else. "Geez! It has been so hot lately! I have to water my flowers every day. I miss ONE day, ONE DAY and they begin to wilt!

I have no integrity. For me, integrity is :

What you feel = What you say = What you do

I cannot say or do what I feel.


I stay inside a lot. I water my wilting flowers after checking that my neighbor is not in her yard. I drive in and out of the back gate and not near the front gate where the driving range is so I can avoid the waves from the golf pros and other neighbors.

I don't call people back.

I don't return emails.

I work two days a week. Tuesdays and Wednesdays. My upcoming IVF schedule requires me to take off two Tuesdays and one Wednesday. I am booked up for 3 months so I HAD to tell them to re-schedule my patients. I had to tell them.

I have two emails from people wanting me to play in a tournament coming up. I haven't played golf since June. I can't bring myself to go to that driving range. I need to write to them and tell them that I can't play. I can't play because the tournament is the end of this month, about when I should be in a hotel room on bed rest for 3 days. I don't know what to say when I say "no thank you". "I'll be out of town" wouldn't really be a lie. Perhaps that is what I will write to them. God forbid I talk on the phone. They will hear it in my voice.

I am a gambler. I am an "ALL IN" kind of girl. I grab life by the horns and I ride the bull. I am not a victim. I make things happen. I have the patience of a Saint and I am extremely resilient. I don't give up easily. If something doesn't work, I think of another way to make it happen.

I am clever. M. is brilliant. I would much rather be clever than brilliant.

I am "ALL IN" for the most important event in my life. No matter how clever I am, this is it. I had to beg, cajole, and grovel to get M. to believe enough that IVF can work after a complete failure.

I have my pocket pair (albeit low pockets) and I have not paired on the flop. I still have hope on the turn and the river.

I can't look.

Marla just got bad news. I am so very sad for her heart right now. It seems to me that there is a 20% success rate in blog land just as in real life.

I cry for another heartache.
I cry for my own selfish self who heard the same exact thing last month. I know how she feels right now, today. I wish I couldn't write that and it be true.
I cry because I am scared to death that I will hear the same exact thing this month.

Does saying "i'm sorry" help?

It did for me ............. now that I think about it.

What hurts worse? for me......questions. The questions everyone asks after failure. You have to be alert and patient and answer so many simple and complicated questions. I couldn't think much less answer "what did the doctor say", "what went wrong?", "is this common".......and on and on and on. "What did the doctor say?" - A LOT "What went wrong?" - A LOT "Is this common?" - A LOT.

I told my husband I needed to go away. PLEASE, PLEASE take me away. Take me to our favorite place. Cambria is near the Hearst Castle and there is a beautiful road along the Pacific Ocean called Moonstone Beach Drive. There are some nice Inn's and we were lucky enough to get an ocean view room.

Cambria is where M. took me for our very first trip together. Cambria is where we fell in love. Cambria is where we first made love. Cambria is where M. proposed 6 months later. Our initials are not visible on the bench anymore after I said "yes".

So we went to Cambria for me to have a break down. I wanted to not be home, not hear the phone, not look at my refrigerator decorated with schedules and shot targets and how I rotated them so perfectly - rotated my injections in a clockwise circle - arm, stomach, thigh, thigh, stomach, arm save the butt for the more painful ones.

Instead of a break down, I was okay there. I had my break down when I got home. Perhaps if it happens next time, I will time my trip accordingly.

Moonstone Beach Drive beach has jade. Real, beautiful jade. If you look in the sand, you will see it. Everywhere. No one really knows about it. Most people walk on it with no appreciation.

I was told about the jade. M. and I got beautiful jade our first trip there. I have the jade we collected when he proposed.

So, this last time, I went rock hopping into the Pacific so I could be with the seals. I wanted to be out there. As far as I could get. Stretching and reaching with the ocean splashing under me. I'm a good swimmer and knew if I fell, I could get back to shore easily. I didn't care if I fell to be honest. I wanted another bruise. M. was in the room. I was alone.

There were many seals and of course baby seals. I didn't even mind them. I sat on a sharp rock until my butt hurt.

I rock hopped back to shore, stretching and tugging is more like it. The tide was coming in and I was getting wet.

Once I got to shore, I saw the jade in the sand. I knelt there and very, very carefully got 9 pieces of jade.

I got to our room, M. was out of the shower and I announced that I got my jade. He looked at the table where I had set them.

"What is this? And why did you pick this one? Julianna?? What made you pick this one up too?" pointing to different stones

He looked at me like I was completely losing it.

"I got the most fucked up pieces of jade I could find. They represent our terribly fucked up nine embryos"

"Good for you" he said.

Later that night he went and re-carved our initials in a bench.

God bless all the fucked up embryos and all of the fucked up mothers.