I feel like a fat pig. I have gained 8 pounds, I feel very heavy, I can feel the extra pounds. I still have no positive OPK and my back is killing me.

I went to sit down on Wednesday and I had a sharp, shooting pain in my lower back that is still making me walk gingerly. A friend said it is my sciatica nerve. I am not happy to meet my sciatica nerve. I am even pissed I have to know it enough to spell check it. Why is it pronounced sciatic but spelled with an a ?

How fat am I if just sitting down causes such pain? I have a pooch belly from the extra weight and I can only assume it is the weight of my belly that made my spine finally scream in terror.


I have not exercised in forever (June) and I jumped right in the golf and yoga scene last weekend. I felt sore, but a good sore, and then my back did this. I have never had back pain -EVER. It is so shocking and incapacitating when it hits me if I turn a certain way.

Another thing I should be thankful for when it goes away. I am rather tired of the universe pointing out what I should be thankful for by making me miserable.

Kind of like when you have the flu real bad and you just think how wonderful it is to just be okay for a day.

I still have no second line on my OPK which is another thing I should have been more thankful for when I ovulated regularly. I know it is because of my IVF so I'm not going to get my panties in a wad this time like I did after IVF#1. Late ovulation means late period. Late period = Hope.

One of my sisters called me last week and excitedly announced she would LOVE it if I crocheted a poncho for her for Christmas. She said she was in Manhattan and saw crocheted ponchos everywhere and thought to herself "Julianna can make me one easy!". This is a sister who has never sewn a button and she has no idea of the time involved but she is also the sister who cried tears of joy when she got an afghan I crocheted for her one Christmas. I know she'll wear it and she will appreciate it but DAMN!

I have been scouring the internet for poncho patterns, I hobbled into WalMart and Michaels and finally decided on a great pattern and I found some amazing black/grey yarn that feels FABULOUS!

I needed 40 ounces of yarn and each skein was so many ounces - can I tell you again how bad I am at math. I needed a friggin calculator in the store. I kept adding and bunching until I had a buggy full of yarn. It didn't look right. I mean hell, I could crochet an afghan with all this yarn! I only need a poncho. I even had a sales lady help after I admitted my lack of math skills. She got her calculator, and said, yes, it was all correct. I needed that many skeins.

I almost choked when the cashier told me "that will be $142.56". WHAT!

My friggin back was/is killing me so I thought this would be a nice project while I am confined. I hobbled out of the store with my goods.

I am still bewildered. I have not crocheted in years but picked it up again quite easily.

All day yesterday, I crocheted, and crocheted, and crocheted. I am only about 10% done. I am completely confused.

I made sure my gauge is correct (so many stitches equaling so many inches). As a matter of fact, I have checked my gauge about 79 times. My poor math skills make me anal like that. I am right on the money with how big my stitches should be and by the looks of the yarn in the bags and my pattern, I have a very long way to go.

I already have a bit of a lap afghan going on so I can only assume that this is a poncho for a giant. The pretty model in the poncho picture is actually a Ripley's Believe It Or Not freak of nature.

I cannot make heads or tails of what is going on with the pattern yet and I will only know when it all comes together in the end. There is even a nice little cowl neck type collar that will be added as a final touch.

I have to trust. Red lights have been going off since I first saw how many skeins of yarn I needed. It does not make any sense. None of it - from reading the number of ounces of yarn, to seeing the buggy full of yarn, and now, seeing how huge it already is...........something is not right.

I know! I'm being punked! This is really a pattern for the Statue Of Liberty and there is a new reality TV show to find out which fools actually complete it!

No? okay.

Obviously, I am doubting the printed pattern book.

Two things are going to happen:

1. I will finish the poncho and it will be perfect and beautiful and I will laugh at myself for being so arrogant that I actually thought I knew more than a published author of a crochet book. I mean truly, how could it get to publication if it is SO wrong.

2. I will see in the end that I was right all along and the world is full of idiots. Even published authors and publishing companies are idiots. I will kick myself for not trusting my gut from the beginning. Because by the time I am done, I will have spent endless hours on top of the already high expense of the yarn.

Somehow all of this reminds me of my infertility.

In the end, all answers are more clear.

Two things will happen with my infertility in the end:

1. I will be glad I kept beating my head against the wall because I will have an occupant for my nursery.

2. I will wish I had paid more close attention to the obvious signs that it was not going to work and I will wish I never tried so hard.


All I can do right now is keep on keeping on. In the end, it will all reveal itself.

I don't know why I am blogging this and it has nothing to do with my empty nursery but Poker online cracks me up sometimes.

I must say that I was amazed at how difficult it is to open a real money account online. I was impressed with the precautions online poker sites take to ensure the participant is legitimate.

With partypoker.com, I got 3 phone calls at home in a matter of 30 minutes and they had me go online to answer certain questions to make sure my ISP address was what it should be.

My conservative husband was completely against me playing for real money.

M. loved it that I was so bold when I was willing to risk everything by moving across country to be with him, when I was gambling with my life for our future but he doesn't understand when that same part of me, the gambling part of me, wants to do what appears to be reckless acts.

You'd think he had a clue he was marrying a gambler when I quit my job and moved out to be with him because we didn't want a long distance relationship. I quit my job and flew west within 2 months of meeting him. What gave me the courage was knowing that I would be okay. Even if the worst happened, I'd go back to South Carolina and never regret it.

My mantra is "When I am 65 years old, will I regret this?". If the answer is "no", I move forward.

I moved to L.A. to be an actress when I was in my early twenties and didn't give up on that notion until I was 36. I then sold my condo and moved back to South Carolina and became a real estate agent - teaming up with my mother who had been in real estate for a number of years and then I happened to meet M. in Los Angeles when I went back there to visit friends.

I was very active in the stock market at that time (1999 - 2000) - and I did a lot of day trading online.

Ironically, after so many years of auditioning and acting in L.A., I got the best acting gig when I moved to S.C. and was working in real estate and day trading.

An online trading company asked clients to send in testimonials and a photo for an upcoming commercial they were going to produce. I sent my testimonial and photo and didn't hear anything until 3 weeks later when the FedEx man rang the doorbell with a congratulatory letter and plane tickets and itinerary for me and my significant other. I had no significant other then so my sister took off work for a week and flew to New York with me. We were treated like queens. First class tickets, great hotel room, Broadway tickets every night, limousine rides and even cash spending money while we were there. The company didn't want us to have to spend any money whatsoever while we were there. That commercial ran hundreds of times a day on CNBC. My best acting gig happened when I quit acting. Imagine that.

M. knows all of this, he loves this gambling side of me when it suits him but he scowls when it doesn't. He thinks that partypoker.com is ridiculous and although he is excited for me when I win a tournament, deep down he wishes I was not gaming online.

Understood.

I understand it.

I am actually glad that M. is not like me. He is my ying. I could not be with a man like me.

Back to partypoker.com. I just got so tickled tonight. No matter what I do, or how clever I think I am, I get heckled.

I had been playing under the female persona HexOnYou. These female personas are very seductive monikers online - all of the females have very large breasts that heave over the table and cleavage is rampant. The monikers are quite attractive. I was taken aback by the incredibly desperate men out in this world. Playing for real money in tournaments and reading such things as "wanna fuck", "lick my balls", "do you titty fuck?" ...........well, it can be distracting.

At first, I talked crap back..........I especially liked it when I pretended to really be a man and would beg the offender to let me butt fuck him.......It can be quite amusing. They shut up real fast when I asked them if their ass was tight like I like it.

Then, I turned my chat off. I still felt that being a woman was a hindrance. I felt that men were patronizing my brilliant plays because of the thought that I might really be a woman. I felt that if I was a man at the tournament table, I would get more respect.

So, I called partypoker.com and told them I wanted to be a male moniker and was that possible. They were more than happy to oblige.

They wanted to know what name I wanted to use.

Hmmmmmmmmm............

I wish I had given that more thought before I had them on the phone ready to change my sex, I thought that an Asian name would be more intimidating so I quickly spouted names:

HuongOne
HugeDong
MeHeong
DickHeong
ChaChing
ChingChang
ChingChing
IllNguen
MeNguen


Believe it or not, MeNguen (Me Win) was available so I took it. Happy to sit at a male moniker seat and I thought I had a more intimidating name.

Now, I get heckled with - "ahhhhhh soooooooooo!-------eat me!" , "go eat some sushi motherfucker", "go back to Asia", "stick to kung fu"........

I must add that when I was in Las Vegas a few months ago and playing in live poker tournaments, I got the same kind of disrespect in person. One guy in his mid twenties kept patronizing me and was being rude to me because he was losing. He gave props to the men at the table, but heckled me. "Stupid bitch", "Who would call with that shit", "Lucky bitch on the fucking river" and finally I had had it.

Honestly, I was nervous to play poker there in Vegas and live - with real people. I was very nervous. So, I was playing tight and smart. I finally got some gumption with this asshole and asked the dealer to remove him from the table. There are signs posted everywhere that cursing and disrespectful conduct will not be tolerated, so when I asked that he be removed.........he was. I suddenly got a lot more respect and the heckler apologized.


I guess it will never end.

I have figured that in the 3 years I have been married, I have had a total of 6 1/2 years worth of eggs - thanks to our infertility treatments.

It was so pathetic of me to get my OPK stick out this afternoon and saturate it.

I can't even see a shadow of a second line and today is CD 14.

I know that after IVF#1, I was about 10 days late with my period and thus my ovulation was screwed up.

It is very clear, Clear Response Clear, that I am nowhere close to dropping an egg.

I am going to do another OPK day after tomorrow. I may see a shadow line then.

I guess I am lucky that I ovulate regularly, or I DID ovulate regularly until my infertility treatments. I have no idea where this cycle is but I suspect that it will be a delayed cycle so I may not ovulate until a week from now.

Why should I bother? If 6 1/2 years worth of eggs have not been able to produce a positive pregnancy test, why do I even attempt it right now?

The reason is that some people win the lottery.

Some lucky assholes live when their parachute doesn't open.

I may be a lucky asshole one day so I have to keep submitting my Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes of baby wishes.

You cannot win if you do not submit.

Maybe all of my bad eggs are flushed out of my system and this month's egg is the golden one.

Maybe........maybe............maybe.

I feel useless and pathetic today.

May I introduce you to my children?

This is Anna and over here is Patrick.

They are the loves of my life and have fulfilled me in every way imaginable. I am so very proud of them and my heart skips a beat every morning when I see their sleepy little eyes.

Anna is full of piss and vinegar. When I let her play with my lipstick, she is enthralled with the image of herself in the lighted make up mirror. She insists on wearing dressses everywhere, even the playground. The world can be amazing and devastating to her in a matter of minutes. If her little bucket sand castle gets demolished by the upcoming tide, she is completely distraught for 30 minutes. If a butterfly lands on her little flower patterned dress, she is completely ecstatic and a glow actually surrounds her. The world is either crumbling or amazing in her little life. I have to comfort her and help her through the rough times and I can sit back and enjoy when she is going through her amazed times. She loves dolls and babies and is extremely needy and affectionate. She is very sensitive. A stern look is enough to make her bottom lip tremble when she has done something wrong. She loves her daddy and dances and jumps when she hears the garage door open every evening when he comes home from work. Anna greets her father with twinkling eyes and big hugs and kisses and tells him how much she loves him. She is a daddy's girl. M. adores his little girl and his day is never better than when he comes home and sees her adoration.

Patrick is a handful. He is very smart and quiet and intense. He is very hard on himself and extremely impatient. He plays games or tries puzzles and gets incredibly annoyed and frustrated if he doesn't solve it after only a few attempts. I have to show him patience. I have to be tender and loving and make things more fun for him. He is extremely bright and sensitive. He can throw toys and stomp around when he is upset. He is petulant. When he loves a toy or game, he is completely oblivious to his surroundings. I love watching him so intensely happy with his solidarity. When he hears the garage door signaling his father's arrival, Patrick is annoyed that he has to stop doing what he is doing. I have to make him go to the door to greet his father. He politely greets his father but then wants to go back to his activity. M. gets into his comfortable clothes and then sits with little Patrick and involves himself with whatever activity Patrick is participating in.

Anna hates to go to sleep at night. She would love to stay up until midnight and fall asleep wherever she is when the tiredness overcomes her. She is just as happy on the floor, on the sofa or in a car as she is in her beautiful bed. She likes the night and likes to be awake. Anna despises being awakened. I let her sleep as late as she pleases for now because she will have many, many years of early rises.

Patrick lets me know when he is tired and is ready for bed. He likes to go to bed sleepy and then falls asleep silently after about 20 minutes. Patrick is an early riser and is very happy in the mornings. He wants his breakfast and he likes his routines. Patrick can't wait for kindergarten.

So, these are my children that I am so eager to find. It doesn't matter if Anna actually becomes an athletic lesbian activist or if Patrick is a hyperactive child with learning disabilities. I will love them all the same and I promise to be thankful every single day of their existence.

I cannot give up on them. I cannot quit yet. As long as I have blood running through my veins, I will continue on the quest.

This is my family that I am so desperately struggling to have.

This is why I can't give up.

This is why we do what we do.

Sometimes I just wonder.

I must start off by saying that I can say without a doubt, I am not crazy. After many years of therapy and thousands of dollars in said therapy, I can honestly say that I am normal and healthy. Admittedly, I have not sought therapy in the past 4 years so it is possible that things have changed.

I am neurotic. Confirmed neurotic.

I have found that I don't do well when the seasons change. Fall has always been the worst for me. The days are different and the nights are longer. I am always in a bit of a funk at the start of Fall.

I am a bit melancholy. Not really depressed and crying a lot but just melancholy. The opposite of this feeling is when Spring arrives. I am filled with hope and anticipation. Now is not the time for me to make major decisions.

I am very sensitive. Too sensitive.

I have trouble with the Fall Season. I can tell it is about to happen about a week before the actual conversion. I get a sense of dread. I am gloomy and in a funk. I get more into my funk as the change occurs. For me, Fall is ugly. Fall is not when the leaves turn pretty, it is when they die. I usually get a cold or flu about now just to make my entire body feel what my psyche feels.

I hate Halloween. It is dark and depressing and dreary. This is not a happy time for me - ever.

The plus side to my season sensitivity is that I LOVE the Spring. I am so happy inside and eager when Spring arrives.

I have to take the good with the bad, the up and the down swing.

So, I know this. I GET IT. I am neurotic and this is a crummy time for me usually.

I lay low. I know that now is not the time to make big decisions and I try to settle into the funk as much as possible.

I can write this, I can tell myself this, I can know this but it is still funky here.

I want to quit my job. I know I should lay low but I can't stand my job anymore.

The reason I hate my job is the boss' wife (TBW) has started working there. She is the one who is the only woman on the planet who is doing IVF#1 and she doesn't even want kids. So, this morning, she comes into my room and is telling me about this woman she saw this weekend and she couldn't stand it and she was so scared and she was going to call me this weekend because THE WOMAN WAS PREGNANT and looked so uncomfortable and TBW said she doesn't want to get ugly like that and she won't be able to walk and she was telling her hubby (Bossman to me) that she can't go through with it.

She said about 10 other stupid things throughout the day and then topped it off with a doozy as I was leaving this evening: She said "I'm only having this baby for you and Bossman so both of you can have a baby to play with"

Just so I know it was ridiculous, let me write it again: She said "I'm only having this baby for you and Bossman so both of you can have a baby to play with"

I don't even know this woman. She started working there just several weeks ago. She knows EVERYTHING about what has happened to me.

Honest to goodness. I didn't even know what to say or do or think. Here I am feeling all gloomy in this Fall funk and then I am trying to register this crap out of this woman's mouth.

Am I really here? I could be dead. I could be dreaming.


Sometimes, I just want to call myself and see if I am here.

Perhaps mother does know best. "It is always worse at night"; "An idle mind is the devils workshop"; "Between being idle or not, always choose to get out among the living".

So, I finally went to the driving range in the neighborhood where I live. I have been dreading it. I haven't been there since June and I knew I would get asked tons of questions about where I had been all summer.

I only started playing golf seriously a year ago. I am not athletic. I am very girly, feminine and uncoordinated and to top it all off, I am still pigeon toed in spite of being told I would grow out of it.

When my sisters and I were growing up, they were taking jazz, tap, ballet and gymnastics and I took oil painting lessons. I was never into tumbling or tapping.

My parents were told that I was very talented artistically when I was in kindergarten. I still remember the day. We were told to draw our favorite food. After drawing it, we all paraded around the room in a circle showing off our drawings. Everyone held their art work proudly above their head and as I looked around the room, I saw candy bars and gum balls and cake and ice cream drawings. I, on the other hand, carried the most beautiful chicken leg you could ever imagine. I had the bumps on it and everything. Somehow my teacher saw some talent there so my parents got me involved in art classes.

My weekly art classes let me skip all sports growing up. I did know how to swim well but that was only because everyone in the South knows how to swim. You live in a pool in the summers in the South if you can.

I digress.......Golf........For me to play golf at this time in my life is surprising. I love it. It is like being at a park for four or more hours. Also, when you suck so bad in the beginning, the practice is incredibly rewarding because there is such a huge learning curve.

I joined a golf league and almost had to drop out I would get so nervous. I wasn't used to competing in sports, I couldn't sleep the night before a tournament and I would even get nauseous the morning of the competition. It was such torture but I pushed myself to go on and anyway, most of the tournaments were for charity so really, who gives a shit if you play well or not.

After practicing 5 - 6 times a week for the past year, I started getting better. My handicap actually sucks. It is 24.5. I can drive the ball 250 yards and my average is 225 - I think it is the hips. My short game needs a lot of work but I was starting to break 100 regularly and I was making huge progress. So.......to make a long story longer, it is highly unusual that I have not played since June and I know a lot of people at the driving range/club house.

It was time to go and face the music. So, this weekend I got the cobwebs out of my golf shoes and headed to the country club. I was asked many times by very nice people "where have you been!" and I handled it okay. I just said I had a busy summer, most people asked if I had been traveling a lot - "yeah, to hell and back" I wanted to say. But I smiled and grinned and was all warm and fuzzy and friendly just acting like I was just so incredibly busy. My golf teacher didn't go for it though. He came out to talk to me and said that he was worried about me. I said I was busy. Then I told him I had undergone a series of medical treatments this summer and it just wasn't conducive to playing golf. He looked very concerned, and I then told him that we had been very aggressively trying to have a baby and unfortunately, none of it worked. He looked relieved, I think he thought I might have had cancer the way my voice was trembling. He was very sweet and said he was sorry. I came very close to crying so I decided just pretending to be traveling the world this summer is the best way to go.

So, from now on, everyone else will hear what a wonderful summer I had and I'll smile so big that they'll think great things and then I'll change the subject and ask them about themselves. Diversion works well.


I am feeling better and it is good to be out among the living.

Is this not the sweetest picture in the world? Sandy just posted this picture. If you don't want to see a pregnant belly with a tiny baby's foot showing, then don't look.

From Anna's Garden 

What a difference a week makes. Just a week ago, I said that there was not enough glue in the world to put the pieces of me back together again and I am now mostly pasted together.

I still find a piece here and there that I need to put back, but I'm coming around.

Having a goal helps tremendously. I am thinking of IVF#3 and what that might mean. At least I can think of something that gives me hope.

I have not talked to M. about it again since he brought it up last weekend. It is not time. I am not ready.

I have been wrapped up in my own little ovary world since June. I have spent this summer stimming and waiting and praying and hoping. I have had my heart ripped to shreds.

My body has produced over 2 years worth of eggs in the past several months. It has done me proud. It was not without a price however.

I am having a hard time accepting the fact that it all failed. $33,000 and countless hours of doctor's appointments and traveling to and fro and the toll on my body and a summer of my life dedicated to the aggressive treatment to no avail.

I am usually very lucky. I work very hard for something I want and I usually get it. I am very blessed that way. Sometimes, it is interesting to see people like me fall on my face, to see me fail. Homecoming Queen has shit summer of 2004.

My girlfriend asked me a great question. "If you could give up everything you have, your loving husband, your beautiful home, living in wine country with all of your social activities or still being single and having a baby, what would you choose?"

Without a doubt, I'd rather be me, right here. But I want it all. Waaaa waaa waaaa.

Part of my life luck is that I look on the bright side of things. I make myself be grateful and I try not to be a victim so it gives the false impression that everything in my life is wonderful.

So, here I begin my journey of getting back into the world. I am going to sign up for yoga classes this afternoon. I used to do yoga 4 - 5 times a week until we moved here but now there is a new yoga studio so I will go sign up. Yoga did not help me get pregnant my first year and a half of marriage when I wasn't stressed so I am not thinking that it will be the magic bullet that pushes me to pregnancy.

I am thinking of acupuncture. I used to have a great acupuncturist in L.A., but the man I want to see here is an hour away and I don't really know that I am up to committing to the many appointments and commute hours. I am tired of commuting and appointments. What if acupuncture is the magic bullet? Oh well.

All these magic bullets just piss me off when everything fails. It is just fuel for my bitter, angry fire.

That is also why I need a break. I am pissed that I did everything right. I could have made more plans, gone to more parties, played golf more but the worst is not wanting to make plans because of IVF. I can't plan trips or make future commitments. That is what pisses me off later. Everything that I stopped in my life, put on pause for nothing. It completely sucks.

Just last week, I didn't want to make holiday plans. I will not fly when I am pregnant. I just think what flying does to my ears, I don't want to do anything to the baby. So, now I can make my holiday plans. We are going to South Carolina for Thanksgiving and Boston for Christmas. It feels good to be free to plan.

I would love for IVF#3 to begin in December. By that, I mean I want to start taking the BCP's in December so when I get back, I will be ready to start stimming again.

I may be jumping the gun because M. and I have not even made a follow up appointment with Dr. Beautiful. She may say that I am hopeless. That is my fear anyway.

So, anyway, I am going to go to the driving range this afternoon. Dusting off my shoes and twisting my ovaries out there. I know I am going to hear over and over again "Where have you been!" because most of them didn't know my life's story. I think I am just going to say "I have been ill" or "I have been having medical treatment" but that only leads to more questions. We'll see how it goes. Perhaps no one will even notice I've been gone. How arrogant of me to think that anyone really cares out there.

That would be funny. Really shit summer of 2004 and no one even knew she was gone!


Here is to me and getting back in the swing of things.

I am trying to be thankful. It is easy to be negative, angry, and upset but I want to be happy so I need to find ways in which to push myself out of this darkness.

I used to see a great therapist and he always said "feel your feelings when you feel them", although simple sounding, it is hard to do.

A bigger lesson however is to maneuver my feelings. I am very dramatic and emotional but there comes a time when I need to harness feelings. I can't let them run rampant.

My goal: To be happy.

Surprised I didn't say "get pregnant"? Me too.

I have one precious life to live and I can be a victim, be pissy, be a bitch, be angry.......or I can pull myself together somehow.

I can try to do things that are GOOD for me. I can leave situations that are bad for me.

I am still shocked and surprised my IVF failed. I truly felt good about it. I am so thankful I had the opportunity to do an IVF #2 though. There was a time when I didn't think M. would go for it.

God bless that man for being so happy with just me. But God bless that man even more for jumping through so many hoops for me to try to have our baby.

I got married at 37. I used to fall in love with shits. Handsome, charming, sometimes smart men who didn't fill my heart.

I can remember so many Christmas' wondering when and if I was ever going to have a husband to celebrate the holidays with. All I wanted was a family and I was the perpetual single woman.

I used to get advise, join dating services, quit being so picky, you're SO hard on men, give them some slack, you're too independent etc.....etc.....etc....

I knew what I needed and I finally found it in M. He is nothing like any man I had ever dated before. Not handsome, not charming, he was brilliantly funny and so secure with himself and he had so much integrity. He was my granite from day one. Everything that man said made sense. I never had to go "huh??" like with all of my other relationships.

Infertility reminds me of being single in a way. I wanted it so badly, it eluded me for so long, it was completely out of my control and yet it finally happened.

I am so overwhelmingly in love with my husband especially after these past two IVF's. To see how this man took care of me and protected me was awe inspiring. I never thought I could lean on someone as much as I leaned on him. He can carry me and he does it bravely and proudly.

I am so blessed to have that man in my life.

I tend to cut people off easily. I can get peeved about something and that is it. If my feelings get hurt, forgetaboutit! I used to run away from M. in the beginning. He forced me to sit and stay and work things out. He was patient and tender with me.

It was always easy for me to rid myself of people (especially men) but I needed to learn to trust and work out differences.

Life is not perfect and if everyone that pissed me off was out of my life, then I would be very lonely indeed. Ick happens and you have to work through it, not run away from it.

Honestly, there are still times that I think of getting in my car and driving cross country back to South Carolina because M. and I are arguing about something. I never worry about him leaving in the middle of night but I know (and he must) that it is something I have visualized and am capable of doing. Talk about abandonment. Piss me off and I am out of here.

Does that make me brave or a big pussy?

I used to think it made me brave, now I know that it makes me a big pussy.

So here I am with my infertility. Who do I run away from now? Who can I leave because "this just isn't working for me".

Shout out to my husband again.

I have a girlfriend who is a bitch. Everyone annoys her and she tells everyone what they are doing wrong and how to fix it. It all generates from her and her unhappiness. It is like having perpetual PMS. It is not the world that is screwed up, it is you and your perspective.

So, I can be in a funk however long I think I need to be in this funk but I choose to try to pull myself out somehow. I don't want to be miserable and therefore be annoyed by everyone and anything.

I desperately want to try IVF#3 again. I know it is a numbers game. I am so fucking close, I feel it in my bones. Like I always knew, somehow, I would have a husband one day even though everything looked dismal, I feel the same way about a baby.

I could list what I have to be thankful for but I would clog my blog. Down to having pinky fingernails, I am so blessed.

One thing I still struggle with is the finances. Being married only 3 years, somehow makes M's money, his money. If I had a savings account with tons of money, I would do IVF's until it ran out. I don't have anything to contribute financially to the IVF. The rub is that if M. wanted a child desperately also, it would be a mute point. But he is fine with no children so it changes the dynamics.

I am asking him over and over again to keep pulling money out of the savings account. I know if we get a child one of these times, he will never think of the money again. I do think (honestly) that if it doesn't happen, he will always think "I spent $50,000 for nothing" or whatever it ends up being. He is already down $33,000 . Add another $16,000 for IVF #3 with the meds and all.

I need to find a way for all of that money crap not to bug me. So many people can't afford IVF, and I am thankful I can try for a third time. Not that I have anything to show for it other than a broken heart and bruised body.

I don't know why I am rambling about all of this tonight but I just am. I said in the beginning this would be like my diary. I will be raw and honest here.


It can be ugly.

It seems that the curse of infertility is lessened if you are a celebrity. Sure, it exists, and some talk about it, but those that do talk about it, have overcome it. It can then be their badge of success, how they overcame it.

Now, let's begin with beautiful Brooke. Is that the most gorgeous child you have ever seen (not her, her daughter)? She did IVF SEVEN (by most accounts), 7 times and finally had that baby. She seems to have had the most difficult fight. I cannot imagine SIX failed IVF's and then finally getting a positive at number seven. Furthermore, when you get that far, how do you relax until the baby is born? I'm guessing that each month was a difficult milestone until it finally, finally happened for her. Unfortunately, it seems she had a very difficult first year with post partum depression. She has not had an easy time and she has fought the good fight.

Next is Courtney. It was very brave what she did. She was very open and vocal about her IVF even in the midst of the process. It is one thing to announce a pregnancy but quite another to admit that you are undergoing IVF and have tried it in the past and it didn't work. She got pregnant with that IVF and has a beautiful baby girl. I love seeing the pictures of her on the beach in Malibu with their dog and baby. That is what I want.

Now, let's go to Celine. Celine announced that she wanted a baby and quit work to do it. She did in fact get pregnant with that IVF and had the light of her life little boy. From all accounts, and I keep hoping I have heard it wrong, she had one embryo placed and it took and she has one embryo frozen. Huh? Really? They only placed one and only froze one? She speaks of the other embryo excitedly and is wondering when to get pregnant with it. Huh? Surely, we are missing something. Just because you are a celebrity, do your embryos defy odds??

Next is Julia. She is having twins and I think it is lovely. I have never read anything about whether it is definitely IVF but I assume it is. She is more in the closet with her fertility drama. I secretly hope she didn't get pregnant with the first IVF - and with twins. I can be bitchy that way. I would like to see a bit of a struggle so I can be even happier for her. I really like Julia and I guess I'm just jealous.

Now to daytime.

Kelly Ripa gets pregnant at the drop of a hat and everything discussed on that show about pregnancy and children never even considers infertility. Celine was even on this morning and Kelly said to her: "Just wait until you have another one!" and I saw Celine pause. Perhaps I imagined it. But Celine seemed to pause. At least Celine knows it is not so easy. It is not an afterthought. Didn't Kelly know she has struggled with infertility?

Now to my least favorite show, "The View". Elizabeth, that lucky (read: silly bitch) girl said that they were trying about 5 months ago. I saw her announce it and thought "oh no", "be careful", "what if it doesn't happen like you think it will and you are on national T.V."....cut to her announcement last month that she is "Several months pregnant" and ecstatic. I am happy for her. Really I am.........somewhere deep, deep down in the pit of me, somewhere I am happy for her......I must be because I am a nice person and all. Today, just now, that little twit came out on the show with a T-shirt that says "Got Baby!"......okay, she doesn't know how lucky she is and I'll ignore it. I don't guess I should expect them to be sensitive to anyone who might be infertile.

If I had breast cancer, should I be mad at Pamela? no.

Now, to Star Jones. I am so sick and tired of hearing about her stupid wedding. To me, she is so self-absorbed and I do not like her. She is my age. She is having her first wedding next month and her big drama is whether she will breast feed her baby or not! Huh? Am I conscious? Am I really seeing this? You can bet your sweet ass that that bitch WILL get pregnant within the first few months and then will carry on as if that is the way life goes. You get married later and you start a family immediately and we all live happily ever after. I would love it, LOVE IT, if she is infertile. I would love to see someone like her fail. To announce to the world "I don't think I want to breast feed" and then be in a place where she announces "I wish I could get the chance once in my life to have sore breasts from a positive beta". I would love to see her be vocal about her failure to become pregnant. I would love to see her sit with an 8 month pregnant Elizabeth and wear a T-shirt that says "Got Nothin'!". But watch, that Star will get pregnant immediately and she and Elizabeth will ooooohhh and ahhhhhhh and gooooooo over how their baby shower theme is just the best! One wish: I wish upon a star that Star Jones will have trouble conceiving. I may like her better then, if I saw a little less arrogance and a little bit of pain.

Perhaps I am a bit bitter?

just. a. tad. bitter.

My breasts have been so sore today and I just thought, goody....maybe I am pregnant and then had to remind myself.......ohhhhhhhhh........wait.....it didn't work.

It is hard to let it go. It is hard to realize that it is over.

I went to my lovely M. who is busy working in his office, and said that I was just excited that my breasts were sore until I realized I couldn't be pregnant, that it didn't work. I told him I didn't think it has sunk in yet.

I then went on to tell him that it is kind of like when our little poodle died when I was in high school..........I called for little Mimi to go outside for months after she was gone.

Let's just be glad he didn't catch me singing in the mirror.

He said "I'm calling your mother. I'm getting worried about you."

He said it with humor and it made me laugh. Any little smile or chuckle is priceless these days.








P.S. A huge I AM SORRY to anyone who has had a miscarriage. I think I have posted over and over that I don't know how anyone breathes, carries on after that much pain, that I cannot imagine. My reference to a miscarriage was distasteful and unintentional. You'd have to be in my sick brain to understand why I would type such a thing. I just feel like such a failure. I can't even go past GO. I am very sorry.

Today I can't stop singing "Nothing Compares 2 U". That is my all time favorite video. I thought it was brilliant the way Sinead just stayed still and let that camera get every emotion. I used to practice acting in the mirror. I could even make the tears come I would get so into it. Yes, I really did that and I really thought it was so cool that I could.

"Since you been gone I can do whatever I want, but nothing compares to you".

I feel that I have put my entire summer on hold. Well, I feel like that because I have. No trips, no visitors (who wants company when you are timing so many doctors visits and shots), no exercise (not that I am SO athletic - haha) but I have stopped playing golf and I stopped my 3 mile walks, I have been completely noncommittal with any future events or invitations. My focus and priority revolved around my ovaries, my meds, my doctors visits and my many procedures.

The first IVF, I told everyone and was so excited and proud. Definite no no. I never even considered the ramifications. I never once thought it would fail.

This last IVF, I told as few people as possible. Immediate family knew, my office knew and my golf league knew. I was glad for my family to know and be there for me, my office needed to know why I was having to take off so much work when I only worked a couple of days a week (why couldn't I set up appointments on my days off?), and my golf league needed to know because I feel obligated to them. I just started playing golf seriously about a year ago. Our house is at a country club and I was convinced to start playing more. I LOVED it. I played about 5 times a week. To be in a golf league, you have to post scores and have a running handicap index. You are also committed to golf tournaments and such. So, why was I suddenly not playing and posting scores and backing out of tournaments? I thought they should know. It was the right thing to do.

But now, how do I go back and do whatever I want?

Since you been gone, I can do whatever I want....

I can hop on a plane if I want to
I can play golf all day if I please
I can drink as much wine as I desire
I can sit in my hot jacuzzi while the rain comes down
I can say "yes" to any invitation in the near future
I can go to the next work seminar that is always out of town
I can go on a strict diet and lose these 10 pounds
I can get botox so I have a smooth forehead and no crows feet


but.......nothing compares to u.........nothing compares to u


Here are the lyrics, I am tempted to go upstairs at my vanity table and look myself in the mirror and see if I can still perform.




Nothing Compares 2 U
( Sinead O'Connor )

It's been seven hours and fifteen days
Since you took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
Since you took your love away
Since you been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see whomever I choose
I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant
But nothing ...
I said nothing can take away these blues,
'Cause nothing compares ...
Nothing compares to you

It's been so lonely without you here
Like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
Tell me baby where did I go wrong?
I could put my arms around every boy I see
But they'd only remind me of you
I went to the doctor guess what he told me
Guess what he told me?
He said, girl, you better have fun
No matter what you do
But he's a fool ...
'Cause nothing compares ...
Nothing compares to you ...

All the flowers that you planted, mama
In the back yard
All died when you went away
I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard
But I'm willing to give it another try
'Cause nothing compares ...
Nothing compares to you ...



Okay, I won't. But I do want to. My lovely husband would be very, very frightened if he saw that. He would think I have finally gone over the edge.

I never thought that girl in the mirror so many years ago would be going back to a mirror singing that same song so many years later with so much hurt in her heart.



So, I do need to soldier on. I need to dust off my golf shoes and go to the range. Can I please..........pretty please..............tell people that ask where I have been that I had a miscarriage? I know that is horrifyingly morbid to most of you but I do wish I could say that. I feel like I have the pain of a miscarriage but I never even got that far I am such a failure.

I never got past GO. I have been working so hard and have been so busy all summer and never even went past GO.

Such a heartbreak.

So, now I can do whatever I want and go as I please but nothing compares to u.

Nothing compares to u.

I am starting to stick my head out of my shell and peak around a bit. My eyelids are permanently swollen. Mascara will never be the same on me again. Well.......... it will. I'm just being dramatic.

This morning I woke up and got out of bed before I cried. The first time I haven't had to get out of bed to get more tissues.

It was so nice to see my lovely M. Thursday afternoon. He is my granite. I have not mentioned his bad boo boo. He feels terrible about it, said he was sorry and I need to learn and drop something for once. He loves me more than anything and I know he was lost and hurting and shocked and he just thought I wanted to know ASAP. I'll make myself more clear next time. That is what hurt the most though, the elation of "I knew I was going to be pregnant this time!!" to complete devastation. It was a nightmare.

I am lost. My entire life has been on a road to my children. I am cursed with knowing that from a very early age. I find myself searching and I see nothing but that same road.

So, I decided........I am going to stay on that road. I have to.

I think M. and I should still time intercourse, I ovulate regularly and it is rather easy to track. We will not give up entirely. I (and all of you) know that things don't look good. Something is very clearly, crystal clearly, wrong. The chances of sex causing a pregnancy are just about nil. A catheter filled with great blastocysts can't even get me pregnant!

I think that depression comes when there is no hope, no road to travel down. I may be headed down a fairy tale road like looking for prince charming on his horse when I was younger but at least I have a road and I can once again have hope and look around with wishful eyes.

I think it is normal to replay an event over and over again. I am trying to make sense of all of this. I am smart. I have spent endless hours reading about infertility and IVF and ICSI and rescue ICSI. If I had any assvice to give everyone going through IVF - DO ICSI - the statistics are profound, greater fertilization, no risk of zero fertilization thus ruining the entire cycle. Rescue ICSI does not cause live births....it can cause fertilization but not live births. Why risk zero fertilization and even less fertilization??? DO ICSI.

Well, if that last paragraph stopped one woman from having a ruined IVF cycle or gave her just one more embryo, then it was worth it.

Back to me. I have replayed my scenario and I am baffled. I wish there was a diagnosis. I wish they could say "high FSH" or "abnormal sperm".....instead, everything looks too excellent. My FSH is 3.4! My response to the meds indicates my low FSH, I have so many mature eggs and our fertilization rate is great (with ICSI). Last time, I responded as well as they would hope an ovum donor would respond! What gives?

Could all of my eggs be cooked? Could they really? There is nothing that indicates my eggs are bad except we can't seem to have a baby want to keep dividing and growing.

I keep going back to my grandmother had my mother at 46, and my paternal grandmother had my father and his fraternal twin at 39. If heredity plays any kind of role, I should be blessed in that area.

Dr. Beautiful has eluded to the fact that it is my age. She has also been stunned at my response however. I know that the sperm is rather insignificant - well........it is! It is like the gas that goes into the car. Our eggs are the cars that have to do all of the work from then on. They have to be normal and strong and willing.

If it is my age, then I am fucked. Because I am only getting older - duh. I got married at 37 and nothing was better then.

If it is a numbers game, even IVF had 28 eggs to deal with. I'm not a rocket scientist but 28 minus 28 equals a big fat ZERO and those are not good odds. Nope...... not looking good.

I still have to travel down this fantasy road. The road where my children are at the end waiting for me. I am completely lost without it.

If someone told me......here is a mile of hot coals and you must walk the mile but you will have your babies on the other end. I would ask for some water and get to walking. If my feet were burned to little nubs at the end, I wouldn't care. It would be worth it.

Now, what if that same someone said "walk this mile of coals and you MAY have a child at the end"? hmmmmmmmm.........I'd still say "Give me some water".

IVF is like that road of coals. It is a painful, difficult path. Your regular life stops when you travel that path and the shattered bits of yourself when it fails are scars forever.

I don't want to walk that mile for it be for naught. That is what sucks so bad. Having nubby feet and still no baby.

The only thing that takes away some of the pain, is my next.

M. took me to a beautiful winery yesterday afternoon. We went out on a veranda, looking down on the vineyard and beautiful mountains were in the distance and I asked him "what do you think? what next? I need a next."

He said "We have to get through this. We know we don't want to adopt but.... what if we try IVF again? Not anytime soon...... but maybe we can try IVF again."

So, I sipped my wine, I looked out at the beautiful view and a flock of birds were flying in the distance and I didn't say anything. I started to cry. The first thing that came to my mind was, am I up for it? Am I up for the pain again? Can I start another IVF with so much hope and handle another failure? Each mounting failure equals a reality I don't want to accept. I was also quite moved because I had to practically beg my lovely husband to do IVF#2, so for him to even offer it to me was surprising.

I looked at M. and said "yes, maybe we can try IVF again...... when?"

"Not anytime soon" he said.

I don't know what that means but somehow it makes me feel a little bit better. I have a road, I have a next.

I wish I could say that I am doing okay or that I am getting better or that anything in my life is hopeful. I am completely shattered to bits. My dear husband is coming home this afternoon so it will be good to finally get a hug. I'm so hard to look at. I can't even look at myself in the mirror.

I feel like I have been diagnosed with cancer only it won't kill me. I have to live with this cancer forever.

Most people have a next. Try again, adopt, buy a puppy. Next eases pain and I wish I had one.

Try again : we will not try IVF again. I knew this was my last one and I agreed to that. If I had 4 or 5 eggs, I may be inclined to beg for another but I had a total of 28 eggs. Something is clearly wrong. Perhaps it is in the mix. Like oil and vinegar. My lovely husband and I will never have our child. Our own child.

Adopt: God bless all those people who have the desire to adopt. We never wanted to adopt. We wanted our own child, not any child. Infertility suddenly puts you in a "selfish" category when you don't choose that route. When people suggest to me "just adopt", I want to say "you adopt". The concept of all of that then hits home. I said that I would post about adoption but never got around to it. In brief, we never wanted to, never had that desire, we wanted our own little M. and Julianna. I just turned 41 and M. is 47, adoption is very time-consuming and expensive and stressful. If you don't have the desire in your heart, all of the hoops to jump through make the answer clear. Funny thing is, even if we had the desire and jumped through the hoops, our cumulative age would be frowned upon. I have a friend who adopted two beautiful children through the county system and she said that our cumulative age for county adoptions (we are talking extremely poor Americans which include a lot of druggies and teenagers), we would not be accepted in a county adoption program. That blew my mind. They would rather a baby born to a 15 year old go to foster care than to our beautiful, loving home because of our cumulative age. Our age would be a factor in overseas adoption and also personal adoptions. Who wants to go through that? Jump and hope and pay, not even having a passion for it to be rejected by the babies mother or system. If I was 16 and had a baby I was giving up for adoption, I would not choose a couple in their 40's. If you want to adopt, God Bless You. NO THANK YOU.

Buy a Puppy: Three people have told me this. Interesting. I wish buying a puppy would work. I actually had a beautiful Maltese daughter named Chelsea. She was my baby all through my thirties. M. is allergic to dogs and I had to give her to my mother. That dog always loved my mother more than me anyway so it was an easier adjustment for them. I was depressed for three weeks when I moved to California to be with M. and my darling Chelsea was left with my mother in South Carolina. That dog has a piece of my soul. She is very happy and is relatively happy to see me when I go back to S.C. but she adores my mother. They are soul mates.

I am finding it difficult to talk to people. I don't answer my phone. People want to "fix it" for me. I get asked so many questions "what happened", "what if you try it one more time", "let me send you this great article about adoption"........and I have to think and I have to answer and I have to try to make sense of what comes out of my mouth.

I wish there was more air in the room, perhaps I could breathe better. I am just thinking of breathing, I cannot answer questions right now.

It looks like I am getting ready to start my period so perhaps now I can stop wishing my doctor is on the other end of the phone telling me they made a mistake. When I check my messages, that is what I hope for. A lab error. PLEASE.......something.

Tuesday was the worst day of my life. It was a comedy of errors set up to torture me. The universe said "let's see how many body slams Julianna can take in a day". Well FUCK YOU UNIVERSE! I am still breathing.

I don't even know if I can type it. I will try through the sobs.

It started with me waking at 4:45 to get on the road to get my blood drawn at Stanford 2 hours away, I knew I would be late for work. They said another hygienist would see my first patient and not to worry. I was 20 minutes into their appointment time when I finally arrived at work. I had already been on the road 4 hours! My patient was in the waiting room, was scheduled for a 2 hour appointment so they decided I would just start when I got there. Such a stressful morning, racing 2 hours to get blood drawn, driving 2 hours to work, not working for 3 weeks and being thrown into the mix - stressful mix. Part of me thought well, the morning will go by fast. It did. I couldn't even go to the restroom. They decided to have a staff meeting for lunch so I had no peace there. Here was the most important day of my life and I was in an environment that did not reflect that at all. I knew when I walked in that door that morning that I should not have been there. I was not able to really be there. I was completely exhausted, of course I didn't sleep much the night before. After lunch, I only had three more patients to go. Just get through the day I kept telling myself. At least you're not home waiting for the phone to ring, I kept telling myself.

The deal was that if it was good news, M. would call me at work. He would get the call in Florida, let family know and I would call him when I got home. I said in passing that I wanted to know ASAP if it was good news though. I told my office, if M. calls in the afternoon, put him through, it is good news.

Thirty minutes into my afternoon patient, the receptionist came into my room and said "M. is on the phone!!". Ohhh, remembering that feeling. I had it for only several seconds. I was so incredibly thankful, relieved, excited, euphoric. I thought, finally, good news, I was so relieved and also had the feeling of "I knew it would work out", I felt like I knew it would happen one day and this was the moment. All of this went through my head in the few seconds it took me to get to the phone. The doctor I work for even came out of his room to watch. Everyone was excited and watching me and I had the biggest smile on my face and then M. began to talk. He was talking so slow. Just say it! Yippee......as I bounced in my shoes with excitement. He was so slow and deliberate and said he had already called family and that he was so sorry but that it was negative. I was waiting for the "just kidding! YOU'RE PREGNANT!!", not that M. would kid like that, but none of it made sense. He just kept saying "i'm so sorry". I had to tell my audience that it was negative, that "no". My mouth went immediately dry, my lips stuck to my teeth. I went back to my patient and finished him. I somehow finished the afternoon patients. I couldn't wait to get in my car and wail. It was surreal. "Julianna, your next patient is here", "we set them up in the other room so you're not running behind", "Julianna, can you show her how to get under that bridge with those new threaders"............complete disbelief. I was a walking robot zombie, somehow seeming fine to the outside world.

I finally called M. just before my last patient and freaked - "What did you miss about the plan??? I could have had the fucking nurse call me here at work if I wanted to get bad news right away! WHAT DID YOU MISS!!!!! I can't even think much less breathe and I have to stay here and try to get through the afternoon. I cannot wait to get in my car and finally release all of this pain.......I don't know how I will drive home. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" I didn't let myself cry, I knew once I started, I would never be able to stop.

He said that he heard me say "if it is good news" once but that before he left to go out of town, I was so insistent on making sure he had my correct work number that he felt I was wanting to know ASAP.

I even posted here that I mentioned it in passing because I didn't want it to be definite, that if he didn't call me at work I didn't want that to mean it was negative. I was trying to protect myself so much.

The most painful thing was hearing that M. was on the phone, such elation, to be STUNNED with the news. Completely smashed and crushed.

I don't know if I will ever get over that.

M. is very upset. We need each other right now. He is coming home early to be with me. I cannot wait to have him hold me. I cannot wait to cry in his arms and have him tell me we will be okay. He is human and he made a very bad boo boo. I have to forgive him. It made the news so much worse than it ever needed to be though. So much worse.

FUCK YOU UNIVERSE! again and again and again. I am still breathing.

I know it is important to keep busy. I must soldier on.

I tried to work yesterday, I made it through the morning. Finally, at lunch I could release. I was crying eating my sushi. A lady was sitting at a table near me and I could see her watching, wondering. It made me cry more because I could feel her feeling bad for me, probably wanting to know what was wrong, if she could help. I had to get up and leave. I sat in my car for 20 minutes and wailed. I went back to work and the office manager said that if I needed to leave, she understood. I was brushing my teeth, looked at myself in the mirror and knew it was impossible to try to stay. I completely broke down, told her "yes, I need to go."


Did you know that it was possible to cry in your sleep? I woke up last night at 2:30 and literally had tears streaming down my face and I let myself continue to cry for another hour and a half. At least I don't have to work again until next Tuesday.

Speaking of work, I don't know if I can stay there. I love my job. I love my schedule. Eight months ago, a girl started working there to help with filing. Her husband lost his job, she had 3 children and needed to try to make money. She was a friend of the receptionist. She got pregnant with her 4th child the first week she started work, she was depressed and crying, said she couldn't tell her husband that he would be mad at her, and she couldn't tell family because they would know "she was doing something nasty with her husband and she was embarrassed". Finally after 3 months, she told her husband. This woman worked only two days a week. The exact two days that I worked. I had to watch her get bigger and bigger and be so unhappy to have another unwanted child they could not afford. I avoided her like the plague. It was so painful to watch for so many months. She is finally on maternity leave as of last week, so I don't have to see her anymore but now begins the next slap.

FUCK YOU UNIVERSE!

Now, the doctor and his wife are starting their first IVF. She is already on the BCP's and will start injections soon. Her pregnancy test is the end of November. She just got her dental hygiene license and is now working in the office - of course - just the past two weeks. She is who was filling in for me when I was gone. She does not want a child. She has put ZERO effort into learning about IVF. The BCP pills even made her sick. She has called me four times to ask about everything IVF. Her husband wants children so she flippantly says she will try IVF. She is 38, he is 41 and they have been married for three years also. I have never heard of a woman going through IVF who really doesn't care if she has a child. She said she is perfectly fine with their dogs. Of course, she will get pregnant with her first IVF. I will not suffer through watching her belly grow and hearing the doctor so excited with the perfect pregnancy. If she gets pregnant, I cannot work there. I tried so hard with the other lady and this would be torture. I will have to leave. It is a never ending fucking nightmare.

FUCK YOU UNIVERSE!!!

I don't know what will come of my life. I must walk through this dark tunnel or crawl or be drug. Speaking of drug, I wish I had some drugs. Something to knock me out. The pain is so deep almost, almost unbearable.

I have only wanted to be a mother. I even picked my career because it allowed one to work a couple of days a week and still raise a family. My nature is maternal.

I have pictured my little Julianna and M. in my mind so many times. I have pictured the little dramatic girl in her dresses giving us fits, and the little boy being petulant and stubborn. I will never meet them. They are dead. How do mother's survive when they have been able to hold or feel their child inside of them? How can they ever breathe again. How do you carry on?

I cannot see my future. I cannot picture any road in front of me. I only ever wanted to be a mother to my children. A very simple request.

FUCK YOU UNIVERSE!


My mother sent me this email when she knew I was in my car, driving in the dark to get my blood drawn. -

Subject: My darling daughter


My Dearest Julianna, as you are on your way to Stanford for your blood work, my constant prayer is with you.

Remember, God does not make mistakes. Whatever the outcome, it is His will. Of course, our hopes and dreams are positive and that you and Michael will be parents. It will be totally devastating for all of us if this is NOT God's will. Still, it is out of our control and all we can do is turn it over to God.

I love you soooo much and want this dream fulfilled so badly for you and Michael.

I will talk to you tonight.

Mom



FUCK YOU UNIVERSE!


I am so overwhelmed with the emails and messages. SO completely overwhelmed. That is all that helps. Feeling love and wishes.


I started this journal, not knowing the end. An unfolding melodrama. It is not what I anticipated. My October Julianna should have come and saved me, she should have run back to August and hugged me and said that it is over, she could have saved me the torture of the last IVF. The cruel, perfect, torturous IVF.

I will be glad when my next is revealed. I have been traveling the road where my children are my whole life, I am lost. I want to hold out my arms and tell them that I am trying, I am trying so desperately hard to get them - please come to me. Oh God, I wish they could come to me.

I am completely shattered and broken.

I don't think there will ever be enough glue to put all of the pieces of me back together again.

I am completely devastated.

At 4:30 this morning my lovely M. leaned over to kiss me goodbye. He is off to Florida for the week.

My beta test is at 7:30 tomorrow morning and they will call M. in the afternoon.

I will be working for the first time in 3 weeks which may be a blessing. I'll be busy and hopefully, I'll be more calm than if I was home waiting for the call.

M. has important meetings all week. He will have his cell phone and he will get the news in Florida.

I mentioned in passing, that if it is good news, I'd like to know ASAP - meaning - call me at work if it is positive. I didn't want to make it a rule or a plan because just in case he doesn't call in the afternoon, I still want to have hope while I am driving the hour home.

Back to this morning, when he was kissing me and telling me he loved me, I said "I hope the next time we see each other we are happy" and he said "Baby, I am so proud of you and I will be so happy to see you no matter what, you're my Warrior Princess."

God, I love that man.

So, I'll be home between 6:00 and 6:30 Tuesday evening and will post as soon as I know. I will post here just after I speak with M., before I call my family in South Carolina. Thank you for all of your support and good wishes, it helps tremendously.

My life is forever changed in 24 hours. Such a strange suspended animation space to be in. As I have said before, I don't wish this on anyone. I have no regrets. This is it. I am thankful M. believed in me enough to agree to this final IVF. My maternal fate is determined.

I feel positive for a few reasons:

1. I responded excellently to the meds and had 17 eggs, 13 fertilize, 10 eight cell on day 3 and they did the unbelievable and had me go to day 5 blastocysts. It is such a huge deal to go to day 5 and they almost NEVER do that for women over 37 so I am extremely blessed that this cycle looked THAT awesome. We had good blasts to transfer. Day 5 blasts are strong, huge over achievers and at least one should have liked my beautiful uterus enough to want to stay there.

2. I don't think that God is cruel, that He would let me get this far, magnificently far, to have it fail. I know that is not politically correct, but I am being gut honest. It is cruel for this final cycle to be so magnificently perfect each and every step to only drop me on my ass in the end. It doesn't make sense. Every step this time was excellent and promising.

3. I do believe in prayer. I have already posted about my prayer cards and I have so many people putting their two cents worth in to God. My mother in South Carolina has me on a huge prayer chain, my MIL in Boston has her Catholic Parish praying (even though they don't agree with IVF, I guess they are making an exception if it means sweet Gilda can finally have a grandchild). My family and friends who believe in prayer say that they are praying for me and even strangers on the internet are putting in a good word for me. I do believe in miracles and I so believe in prayers.


It so completely sucks that M. is out of town and that I am so far from South Carolina. I'm a big girl. Somehow, I don't quite believe that last sentence but I'll let it stay. I am a brave girl. There, that felt better. I will buck up and move on if my will is not done. I will head down a different path in life. I will have to find other avenues for happiness.

I have always been lucky. My sisters always said that "shit is fertilizer for me" - that I walk through shit and come out stronger. I have had a very blessed life and I have fought for everything I ever wanted until I got it. This may be the first time I quit.

Now should the dream happen tomorrow, I will be weak-kneed and humbled and so grateful that I will never want to ask God for another thing as long as I live, (other than a healthy pregnancy and child and good family life).

I am so very, very proud of myself. I could not have done anything any better or tried any harder. I fought the good fight.

Here is to a good day Tuesday.

If positive thoughts were what helped with childbearing, I'd have ten children by now. I never thought negatively my first year of marriage. After I discovered OPK's, I had pregnancy symptoms after the positive surge signal and was shocked when I started my period. My first IUI, had me with early morning sickness signs after the first few days.

My first IVF, left me wondering what I was going to do with the triplets and then the problem of so many frozen embryos that would most assuredly be left over.

Being positive has knocked me on my ass. I have been bitch slapped for years by positive thinking. I was slapped so hard back in July that I didn't know that I would every walk upright again.

Interesting that when I had my little episode of fear and anxiety associated with the idea of possible failure, I heard more than five - 5 - people say that I was going to harm/bother/hurt/cause failure to my embryos that are hopefully still somewhere inside my vast uterus of hope.




Dear friends and family,

If my positive thoughts for the past three years were not able to make a DENT in the possibility of a positive pregnancy test, 36 hours of fear and anxiety is not going to abort the current situation so please leave me the fuck alone and let me be scared if that is what I need to be right now. I happen to be scared shitless and I refuse to pretend to be anything other than what I am. If crack whores can have babies, my slight anxiety will not cause these embryos to stop embedding if that is what they decided to do at day 7 of their little fertilized lives. I am actually doing amazingly well but I think I have spoiled you with my great spirits. My spirit is fragile. I am weak and I am scared and that is okay. I have a lot - as in hell of a fucking lot - riding on Tuesday. It is enough to cause one anxiety and fear.

The End.





I am actually still 80% positive that I will get good news Tuesday but, alas, that is my nature. The other 20% has a voice this time that I hear. I wish I was deaf.

Tic ........tic.................tic.............toc

I just finished snuggling with my husband and told him I need him to help me today.

Given that I cannot be knocked out, I cannot get drunk, I cannot run and I need the next two days to pass by.......

What is a girl to do?

He is going to go to the grocery store with me - thrills.

Hmmmmmm........that should take up about an hour and a half.

I told my lovely M. to just ignore me today. I am WAY bitchy and annoyed with everything and anything and everybody. I need him to be a bigger man today than usual and just try to be patient with me because the last thing I need is for us to get in an argument before he goes out of town for a week.

He feels very positive that I am pregnant and tries to convince me not to worry.

The odd thing is that I have been able to relax and calm myself down until the past couple of days. I think the sum of the past month has caught up with me. Perhaps it is only possible to ignore stress and fears for a limited time and then it catches up with you.

I caress my belly all the time and try to take deep breaths and be calm and I try to do the best I can for their sake. Do they even feel me encouraging them? Is it possible to help them along with sheer will?

It is actually quite arrogant of me to think that I have that much power over my little embryos. What if everything is random? It is already decided, and I just have to wait. There are no short cuts. There are no secrets.

I need to try to keep busy for the next couple of days lest I become certifiably crazy.

Interestingly, I have absolutely NO desire to do a HPT. No desire whatsoever. I will not believe it if I see a faint line, I will not believe it if I see no line, I will not believe it if it screamed the results to me in five different languages. I hate HPT's, they have never served me well and they don't work in my house.

Tuesday......tuesday............t u e s d a y.......please get here.

Getting a bit anxious over here and trying to get a grasp.

I am trying very hard to make my days go by well with as little stress as possible.

It can be torturous.

Time stands still. In three days, I will have results.

I feel momentum building, building inside of me. It is not pleasant, it is fear driven. How much control does one or can one have over ones emotions? I try to force the positive thoughts, I try to make myself look and feel optimistic and grateful. I AM grateful. I cannot imagine all of this going so incredibly, amazingly well with this IVF for it to be a complete failure. I will be completely knocked on my ass if I do not get a positive beta on Tuesday.

I find myself being very selfish and everyone is getting on my nerves. I hear people tell me stories or tales and I am only annoyed. Annoyed that they would think I have energy right now for anything trivial. I roll my eyes on the phone when people are talking to me.

My moment in time right now, this very second, is the most important thing that has ever happened to me - EVER. The concept of that is not explainable or understandable to anyone other than myself and perhaps a few of you out there in blog land.

If I was getting ready to take the bar exam in three days, people would be more appropriate than they are being right now.

Right now, I answer the phone to hear bullshit about planning a surprise birthday party in November, I hear bullshit about a handyman being late, I hear bullshit about a cousin graduating, I hear bullshit about a housewarming party and did I get the wine and cheese platter delivered like I said I would......... and I am expected, EXPECTED, to be patient and kind and attentive.

The world is going on around me and I am in the center with everything moving in slow motion.

If I was taking a bar exam in three days, I think my friends and loved ones would be focused on me. They would not expect me to be on the phone caring about their ho hum daily events.

My life is magnified right now. M A G N I F I E D more than 100 times.

I find myself wanting to tell everyone to shut the fuck up. I am not answering my phone anymore today. I have just decided. Good. Next.

Does my stream of consciousness writing make sense? I am not a writer, I don't care to be a writer. I am a feeler. I am an emotional feeling woman and I write in this blog like I would my diary only sometimes I have to explain a bit more here.

My lovely husband is at a winery today. Our friends own a winery and every so often, M. goes to help with tastings. I want to go there but I have a dilemma. It will be great for me to be out among the living and meeting and socializing and being all fakey smiley to strangers just to keep my mind busy and make this day go by faster, but I won't be tasting and I'll be standing the whole time. I could have one taste and make it last an hour which will be difficult, difficult only because I love wine and especially their reds, I could care less what people think if I am drinking or not or why.

My friends and loved ones are who are getting on my nerves.

I could be more patient with strangers bullshit stories because they don't know any better. They don't know what is going on inside of me. However, if there was a little peep hole into my inner workings they would scatter away and fast! I would be a people repellent of the worst kind.

I am ever so friendly. I am a gracious hostess. I am fun to be around. I make people feel important and I listen - as in hear - them. I pay attention and I care. I think that is why I am so annoyed at the lack of that on other people's parts right now.

I will bite the head off of the next person I talk to on the phone who expects me to CARE about anything other than myself right now.

I can be a bitch. I am not afraid to speak my mind, I just try to bite my tongue and not hurt feelings.

I am getting very close to losing friends and insulting people. Too funny....instead of win friends and influence people.......ohhhhhhh goodness. How to lose friends and repel people - now that would be an easy book!

I know what my mother would say, "they don't know any better", "people are just trying to keep you busy and let you know they care", "people don't really know what to say", "people don't want you to dwell on yourself".........yadda, yadda, yadda.

Wow! I am a bitch today.

Okay, I feel better after writing. I am going to get dressed and drive up to the winery. It is a beautiful day.

We have steaks out for the grill tonight so that will be enjoyable.

Thank you dear blog friends for everything, more than anything, thank you for understanding me. I feel very validated here. I think that is the healing element in blogs. The being heard and validated.

Just be glad you're not one of my phone friends!!! LMAO!!



Supposedly, this really happened:

A little girl goes to the barber shop with her father. She
stands next to the barber chair, while her dad gets his hair cut, eating
a snack cake. The barber says to her, "Sweetheart, you're going to
get hair on your Twinkie." She says, "Yes, I know, and I'm going to
get boobs too."


So there, some levity!

Have a good weekend to all! *clink* *clink*

Que sera sera - what an appropriate saying for me right now.


I got dressed and met some girlfriends for lunch today. It was nice to get out among the living. They were quite emotional after I caught them up with the goings on in my life the past week. They are SO positive that this is it - they feel so confidant that I am pregnant. My heart sinks when I think "what if I'm not".

I have been doing very well. I do need to quit searching about blastocysts on the internet. For the most part, it is very good news. I know that I have one beautiful, perfect blastocyst and another that looks very good as well. I am not really liking the third blastocyst in the picture anymore. I mean, I love it, but it doesn't look as hopeful as the other two but it could have been at an earlier stage than the other two and still be okay. We already know that the fourth blastocyst is not promising and I don't even have a picture of it. So, from my internet education online in the past two days, it appears that I have two very promising blastocysts in my uterus. Now I think I'm a friggin embryologist!

I mean truly, usually they never put in more than two and a blastocyst has a 50% plus chance of implanting once it has gone that far. So, I have four (really three and a half but that is okay), and the odds of one taking are very, very good from everything I've been reading.

My lovely M. is going to be in Florida all next week. He leaves Monday morning and comes back Friday afternoon. My beta is Tuesday morning at 7:30 a.m..

As I have said before, I only work on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. The last time I was at work was three weeks ago due to this IVF schedule. My boss has been incredibly accommodating and I don't want to ask off for yet another day. It will be good for me to work on Tuesday so that I am not going completely insane waiting for the all important phone call.

I am trying to protect myself. I am trying to do what is best for me whether the news is good or bad.

I have decided to have the nurse call M. on his cell phone with the beta results. His phone works the same in Florida as it does here in California.

I don't want to be at work and have my heart sink every time the phone rings and a phone rings a lot in a dental office! It is what it is and I can't drive myself crazy all day. I'd rather know at the end of the day. That is best for me.

I commute an hour so I think I should wait until I get home to call M. to find out if I am indeed pregnant.

I also think that I want him to call my mother and his mother with the news - whatever it is.

This is when it is so difficult being so far away from family.

My girlfriends today said that they will be at my house when I get home from work Tuesday. They don't want me here alone. That is very sweet of them but I don't know if I really want them here.

M. and I moved here 2 years ago so, needless to say, my friends here are new friends. I am grateful for their kindness but if the news is bad, I don't know if I want them to see me that vulnerable. That raw vulnerability of death pain. Like when someone dies that is close to you. That kind of pain is better left for family, not newly found friends.

The other side of this is that I am a survivor. I am not a victim. I will weep and mourn but I will do what I need to do to soldier on and have a happy life. I will not let circumstances out of my control ruin my precious life. It is just the process of the healing that I don't want to see myself go through.

In spite of this post, I am actually 80% positive that I am pregnant. 80% positive that I should be pregnant given the accumulated data.

It is in God's hands. I will never, ever regret doing IVF. It has been the worst thing in my life so far. A very involved (emotionally, financially, physically) process that I don't wish on anyone. It is truly amazing though what medical science can do and for that, I am grateful.

Enough of that!

Back to happy baby thoughts. oooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

oooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Herein begins my third day of bed rest. I was VERY bored in the hotel. Obviously, I got no internet connection nor did I have the energy to fight for it. They said they had wireless cable but somehow mine didn't work. It was a Hyatt for God's sake. I guess it was meant to be for me to sleep endlessly. M. had to work so he wasn't able to get it together for me.

It was nice to get home yesterday afternoon. I love my house smell. You know when you've been gone a while or when you go to your mother's house, every home has that distinct smell.

I cannot go up and down stairs. So, once I am downstairs, I am here all day.

It is so weird, I feel fine and yet I have to stay laying down except for the few occasions when getting up is necessary.

I will do anything to get pregnant so if they said I needed to do a shoulder stand 8 hours a day, I'd be on my shoulders for 9 hours.

This will not fail because of anything I did or did not do. We asked Dr. Beautiful about the drive home (2 hours). She said it would be fine. She told us about two women - one had a folk dance contest the evening of her transfer and has a healthy pregnancy and another one who had a multi-mile run she was competing in 3 days after transfer and she is pregnant also. I immediately thought: "those stupid bitches" and then the other part of me thought: "of course" - it is almost like the more you want it, the more apt it is to fail. It seems sometimes that if you have a don't-give-a-fuck attitude, things work better.

I do give a fuck.

I am feeling positive. I was searching about blastocysts endlessly yesterday and I found a picture that looks so much like our one beautiful blastocyst so I will post it here.

Day 5 Blastocyst 
The developing fetus itself is the area marked as "ICM" (inner cell mass)
The blastocoel cavity in the center is marked as "C"
The trophectoderm cells that will form the placenta surround the cavity - one is marked with a "T"






Of course, I am obsessed with every word the embryologist and doctor said. I re-play it over and over again in my head. I was rather sedated when they were talking so I keep asking M. what they said. How good were the other two? As good as "very good" or good as in "okay good".........The picture we have has three of the blastocysts and it is already getting worn on the edges from me picking it up and staring at them and comparing them to other pictures on the internet. The other two weren't as distinctly separated as this perfect one was but from what I am finding online, they look pretty good.

Someone needs to unscrew me from the ceiling.

I know the fourth was "not so good" and that is okay. I'd rather have it in me than in that petri dish.

From what I can tell, they usually don't push the blast stage for women over 37 due to the high risk. So, I am grateful that everything looked so good that we actually had several last that long and still look promising. I am just trying so hard to comfort that little girl inside of me and trying to convince her that everything is okay and even good.

Actually, I am relaxed most of the time and so very hopeful.

Fear is a terrible thing.

I wonder if a cushion of fear helps the fall. Last time, I had no negative thoughts. I kept telling myself, "why won't it work?" and plugged along. There were SO many reasons why it won't work. I was so naive.

I find myself preparing a huge cushy pillow just in case I need it. I have also thought about what to do with the nursery.

My nursery for a baby is not the issue. What if there is no baby? What am I going to do with that room? I don't want it to be a source of pain forever if things should not work out. Somehow it is easier to plan for that now, now that I still have hope. I don't want to plan for it when I am devastated and useless. Kind of like planning a funeral. I'd rather have it planned just in case. We do not need another guest room so I think the only thing that makes sense is to make it a shrine to myself. Like a fancy parlor room or a craft room or a make-up room with lovely mirrors and a beautiful chaise lounge to read magazines. I do not want that room to be painful. Not ever. Not because of everything we have tried.

Okay, enough of that. The nursery room already has a day bed in it because I thought that would be perfect if I needed to sleep in there some nights should a baby be ill or need more attention. The room will inevitably be of shabby chic design, whether a boy or girl is the occupant. I have a collection of hat boxes and vintage baby shoes displayed in there. I also already have my make-up vanity and even a little game table area. There is a book case and a little painted rocking chair. The toddler rocking chair was my nephew's when he was young. My sister gave it to me for good luck. I painted it white a few months ago and inscribed in calligraphy on the bottom "To my precious angel, Love, Mommy" and I dated it.

It will take me about a day and a half to get that room in nursery condition and it will take me an eternity to convert it to the unmentionable.

I need to keep with the positive thoughts. Gentle, tender, loving positive thoughts. I have so much to be thankful for and I am so very grateful I have made it this far.

When we got to the office, I was called back to an operatory. Not usually noteworthy, except I was afraid there was going to be bad news so I was so thankful to hear my name so I could go past the reception room milestone.

I was even further encouraged when the nurse instructed me to strip from the waist down. SOMETHING would happen today.

I was afraid I would have a repeat from last time where there would be nothing to transfer.

Taking the embryos to blastocysts is more risky. I was starting to get a bad feeling.

I was so glad to see that embryologist come into the exam room.

She brought pictures. One blastocyst looked excellent and two others were in the picture as well. I wish I had a scanner so y'all could see them.

So, one blastocyst had a thin shell layer and was separated into different parts already and the other two looked like they may be in the process of going in that same direction. One more than the other. There was a fourth blastocyst they told us about that they said could make progress but it wasn't as promising looking as the others.

So, we had one beautiful, excellent blastocyst. Two very good's (one better than the other) and then the fourth was fair/good.

Then Dr. Beautiful came in the room and we discussed the details. She was going to transfer the three in the picture and then asked how aggressive we wanted to be. I said "very aggressive". Since we had such poor results last time and also due to my age, she thought we should be aggressive.

We transferred all four. Blastocysts don't freeze/thaw well and the rest of our embryos looked like they had just about finished doing their thing.

It is a total numbers game.

We went from 17 eggs.

14 mature and 13 fertilized.

We had 10 eight celled embryos on day 3.

All of that down to 1 excellent and 2 others that looked like they might keep going and then the 4th that is not as hopeful looking.

So, then there were four - really three and a half.

I am so grateful. I actually thought I would be yipping and yelling "I'M PREGNANT" after the transfer but I am more serious than that. My dear husband, on the other hand, has already named them. Their names are: Romulus, Remus, Azuzel and Beazelbub. I have no friggin idea what any of these names mean but I am sure it is quite funny if I knew any better.

I am relaxed. Sleeping a lot. I just got home (so good to be home)and I am willing these little babies to stick.

My beta test is a week from today! That seems so soon. They don't change the date whether you are day 3 or day 5 transfer, they test 13 days after retrieval.

Surely, one has to stick. PLEASE.

For these few days that my embryos are outside of my body, I feel I can crumble. I will buck up again tomorrow when I need to. Like I said before, this IVF will NOT fail because I was stressed, I will only do what is helpful to myself - last week it was me bowing to my ovaries and the coming week will be me bowing to my embryos. Sometimes in life, there are so many more important things going on that you just have to let the world go on without you.

I am so upset today for Amanda. I am crying so hard for her right now. I think it just brings back memories of that kind of pain and it also could be a nightmare I live through again in the coming weeks. It is just TOO much sometimes, that awful hurt when you have done everything you can. I told her to lay on the floor and cry and collapse. There will be a day, when she is ready, to stand up again but not now. Amanda, if you reading this, I am so truly very sorry for your loss.

M. just came downstairs and asked what in the world was wrong. I said "I am just scared." He said "why...why are you so scared". I said "I am scared to have hope again and scared of the pain if it doesn't work this time. I don't want to ever feel that again." He said "oh baby, everything will be okay this time."

Like I said, today I will allow myself to be on the floor a bit. Tomorrow is a big day.

I love blogging. I have found such support here, on the internet. I have found a community to which I belong. I'd love nothing more than to not be able to type that and it be true but here I sit in the shit with them and at least we can all smell the same smells and talk about it.

After my transfer tomorrow morning, I will be going to a hotel. I will relax and be happy and think only good thoughts. I will imagine my little babies being happy enough in there that they will want to stay.

My lovely M. gave me a cool laptop about 8 months ago. I have wireless cable, I can sit on my deck and type without cords and such. Unfortunately, there is a great possibility that I will not be able to post from the hotel. We are there for the first 24 hours after transfer.

So, if I don't write tomorrow, it is because I am without a connection.

My lovely husband is an Idiot Savant. He has a PhD in Physics and he has a Masters in Computer Science. You would think, I mean REALLY, that he could figure out a way for me to have my computer up and running in a hotel room?

Me: "I want to take my laptop to the hotel"

He: "What are you going to hook up to?"

Me: "Ummm.......a wall?"

He: "You won't have the same wireless cable there. How are you going to connect to the internet?"

Me: "So, get me a telephone cord hook up"

He: "You don't have an internet provider there"

Me: "So, if I had my old AOL, then I could get online there?"

He: "yes."

Me: "Well then, we'll get one of the hundred discs from AOL that come in the mail and install it on my computer and take advantage of the free trial offer and then I will get to hook up"

He: "no........AOL sucks. You don't want to download it on your computer."

Me: "ummmm..........yes. Yes I do. I want AOL on my computer so I can still get online if I am not home."

He: "It's not that simple, you have to register and download and install and ..........(me getting fuzzy headed)..... You can go a day without the internet."

Me: "so......let me get this straight, you can compose and design complicated satellite systems and yet you can't get my little laptop to connect to the internet from a hotel room?"

He: "correct"


So, to make a long story, longer........I may not be able to post until late Tuesday. I can't stand it when someone in blogland announces an important event (doctor's visit, test results,meetings, etc....) and then they don't post again on their blog for hours and sometimes days. It is like telling a room full of people.....oh.....something so important happened to me today......I'll tell you all about it.........and then leave them all hanging until whenever. This has happened a few times and being on the end of re-freshing and re-freshing a blog is annoying.

I feel that I owe it to my readers, even if I only had one reader, to be polite and not leave them hanging. I'll get a life one day : ).

I also love playing NL Hold Em tournaments on party poker.com. For $5.00, I can play in a tournament that may last 45 minutes to an hour. I have actually become quite good at poker and love the tournaments. I have made more money than I have lost so far.

So tomorrow, I may be left to talk on the phone for endless hours while I am at the hotel room. Perhaps, I will watch some movies. I wish I could blog and play poker though.

I am actually starting to feel better after writing all of this nonsense. Forgive me if it is rambling and difficult to follow.....welcome to my friends little world!

I hope and pray that we have great looking blastocysts in the morning. I am not ready for my world to crumble yet.