I've crushed my luck

You hear sports players talk a lot about luck. Not cutting their hair or beard during playoff season, not washing their jersey's. You get the idea. Maybe you were into sports one day and adhered to those same supersticions.

Going through IF, I think a lot of us cling to luck and supersticions as well. Unicorns, rainbows, rabbits foot, ladybugs, they're all good luck.

I have taken my luck and single footedly smashed it. Literally. My sweet little ladybug that I have seen every day in my bathroom since New Years is no longer with us. I'm thinking about not shaving my beard and wearing the same oatmeal colored turtleneck for the remainder of this pregnancy to try to ramp my luck back up to an acceptable level.

6w3d

Things have been going well. I continue to pinch myself daily and wonder when I will wake up from this pregnancy hallucination. I haven't really had many symptoms either (except sore bewbies), to look to for reassurance.

We did, however, today get to see the little bug. It's measuring spot on 6 weeks and 3 days. We got to see the gestational sac, yolk sac and the bug. Neither of us cried, I think we were in so much shock that it wasn't a shark or something swimming around in there.

We didn't get to try to look for a heartbeat today, which was disappointing. But the bright side of that is that we get to go back next Friday for a repeat ultrasound to check for it then. For whatever reason the u/s tech felt bad about us having to come back next week. Wah?

Oh, you want me to sit here for another 20 minutes next week to look at this precious bug we've been trying to create for over 3 years? Please, tell me when the torture treatment is over.

Give me a break lady, I could sit on your table with the vagi cam all day! Mkay?

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In other news, my Dad's stepson has passed. After 5 days on life support they decided to take him off the machines. It's total devastation. It really is. I know many of you know what intense grief is like, I just wish no one ever had to go through it. It's heartbreaking. It's going to be a long road for them.

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Any advice on how to get my luck back? The dead ladybug is still sitting on the bathroom floor. Like I expect it to be resurrected or something.

The tribe has spoken

HCG numbers today... well over 500:o) Our risk of another ectopic at this point is very minimal. We are having an ultrasound on the 21st at 9:30am just to rule it out (and hear the heartbeat!). Looks like now the bug is measuring 5 weeks, but that will be fine tuned after the first few ultrasounds. We are over the moon excited. I still just can't even believe it!

In other news... why is it that great news always comes on the back of tragedy? On Saturday my father's step son overdosed on heroine. His wife actually found him dead in his bed. The emergency room got his heart going again, but he is on a ventilator. There is no brain activity. They are doing another brain scan tomorrow, if there is no activity again they will have to think about taking him off the machines. Just utterly devastating for my father and his wife. It's just unimagineable. No parent should ever have to find their child like that. My heart is just broken for them. We are still holding on to faith and praying for a miracle.

In both situations we just continue to be thankful for every day. Even if we only get one more day, we are thankful for it. I am thankful for all of you, beyond words. I can't wait to hear when you have good news. Until then, I'll be waiting and supporting.

The bug

As of today the bug is measuring 4 weeks:)

When I had the original blood work done on Tuesday the levels were 14. My doctor thought they were on the low side.

I had follow up blood work done this morning to ensure my hcg levels are doubling normally.

I'm happy to say that the numbers have more than doubled. They've gone up to 65:)

We're not out of the woods yet. I'm having another blood draw on Monday. If those come back normal we'll be looking good. She said I'd have an ultrasound at 6 weeks to completely rule out another ectopic.

I'm starting to allow myself to get a bit excited. At this point with the ectopic I was having bad bleeding and cramps. So far this time I haven't had any of either *knock on wood*

Thanks for the well wishes:) I wish I could bottle up my good luck lady bug and send it to each of you!

Infested

What better way to start the new year than being infested with bugs? Not the bugs that might infest your Lady Curtains, thankyouverymuch, but insects. That fly, crawl, and are generally creepy.

My husband also noticed the insect one day, I begged and pleaded with him to leave it alone.

Under normal circumstances I am the first to smoosh a creepy crawly in the house. But this bug was different.

It was New Years day... and it was... a ladybug.

Now, if you are as supersticious as I am, killing a ladybug on New Years Day would be the equivalent of taking your 2010 karma and slapping the Dalai Lama in the face with it.

So the ladybug was left in her peace. Each day since New Years when I get out of the shower I have seen the bug on the wall in our bathroom. (Yes, I bathe daily, filthy whores. Sometimes I even shave too).

After years of ttc and a failed Clomid month I found out this morning from Dr. POC that I am infested with another bug. One that will hopefully be around for another 9 months. My levels are being checked again tomorrow and every couple of days after that to rule out another ectopic. But for now, we're cautiously optimistic and enjoying each day as the precious gift it is.

The ladybug has been in the house for 6 days now. I'm thinking about catching it to keep as a pet. What do lady bugs eat, I wonder?

Definitions

My top 5 resolutions (yes, there are more, less appropriate for the interwebs)::
1. Start smoking. I figure I need to ramp up to 4 packs per day to catch up to family and friends.
2. Swear more. Because there's nothing like telling your boss you need an effing raise to buy more coach bags and manolo blahniks.
3. Buy more fur. Who does PITA think they are anyways?
4. Spend more. Nothing says recession like coach bags and manolo blahniks.
5. Make an effort to stop exercising. Because 10 pounds on clomid, progesterone, and trigger injections is just never enough.




In the final hours of 2009 I'm left reflecting on the year, as many of you are. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

The ugly...

Tiger woods. Nuff said.
Octomom... Need I say more?
Kanye... Douche bag.
Failing 2nd cycle of clomid. (100mg was a bust)

The bad...

By far the fullest category this year. I would sooner have a lifelong case of pink eye before reliving 2009.

The heartbreak is as fresh today as it was 10 months ago. I know many of you know the heaviness of carrying a broken heart on a daily basis. I hope that 2010 brings a way for us to be at peace on many different levels.

The good...

It's a double edged sword for me to even think about any good that may have come out of the hurt we've felt this year. I think it's a readiness thing, and I'm just not there yet.

Definitions...

When I think back on this year the loss is the only thing I can think of. It's a defining life event. My life is becoming defined with the loss and infertility. I struggle with feeling connected to the loss through my ongoing hurt and making this defining piece of my life a positive.

I'm not sure how, but my goal for 2010 is to figure out what I can do to have a positive impact on others because of my life experiences.

I'm not saying I'm going to move to a 3rd world country and start going by Mother Kansas, but I'm not going to allow negativity to define me any longer.

What defines you for 2009? What's the good, the bad, and the ugly of you year?

I'm thinking of you all tonight and the things you've been through this year. I hope you all are enjoying some r&r over the holiday weekend.


I look forward to seeing where 2010 takes us.

Birth days

Friends, the day of my birth was yesterday. Someone tell me please when the numbers start going in reverse... .... ... anyone? ...

Flo, at the DMV, kindly reminded me that the weight number never goes down either... thanks Flo. At least she's honest, right? Yes, she is an honest 65 year old woman with her tires slashed. Happy holidays Flo!

Let's be frank, getting older blows for many reasons. I know, you just blacked out from shock, right? I'll give you a minute if you need to get some paxil for the ingenuity of my most recent revelation.... Bring some back for me too...

There isn't really any stellar news to report this week. We've upped the Clomid to 100mg. 5 Follicles made, but on Day 14 they are still not ready to be triggered with an injection. WTF, right?

If I had a biography it would be titled "WTF." Because I love WTF, OMG, BFF. And, why not?

Double the clomid is double the fun. Because half the hot flashes is just never enough.

It was a whopping 18 degrees here in the northeast this morning as I was on my way in for the bazillionth vagi cam appointment this week, and having the hotflash of a lifetime. I rode all the way there with the sunroof open. No jacket. I shit you not. I can't wait to up the dose to 150mg next month.

If I can get this hotflash to last for another 4 months, this winter may not be so bad.

Clomid: Chaos, migraines & hot flashes predominate - my work here is done.

Me: whore.

This is the priceless information that would go in my book.

Holiday Cheer Hijacker

Internets, it’s a BFN. I know, shock and awe… blah blah blah How can I be filled with The Christmas Cheer and not full of The Rage? The Hysteria? How can I not be telling people off in the grocery store in fits of crazy?

How can I be decking the halls with boughs of freaking holly when my ovaries have staged a walk out?

I’ll tell you friends…

It’s called, How to Turn a Sweet Christmas Miracle, into, Selfish Scheme to Give Kansas the Warm and Fuzzies. Because let me tell you… I am not about the warm and I am not about the fuzzy.

We’ve “adopted” a child from our local foster program to buy Christmas gifts for. His name is Sean and he’s 3 years old. When I got Sean’s Christmas list all it had on it was Lego’s. Cue the tears, and not the It’s A Wonderful Life, kind. Picture Marley & Me type hysteria.

Now, before you go soft on me, remember the scheme.

This is not about a child who might otherwise give up on his belief of Santa. Or learn about the cruelty of the world at much too young of an age. It is also not about his exhilaration on Christmas morning waking up to every type of Lego product available in the US. It’s not about the smile on his face, or the hope in his heart.

Okay? So get those dirty images out of your head. This is about me. And contrary to popular opinion, being hopped up on hormones does not give me the warm or the fuzzy. Unless you mean The Warm in a hot flash kind of way, and The Fuzzy in a blistering migraine kind of way. I just want to be clear.

In case you’re still following in a Christmas Shoes kind of way let me reiterate the selfish nature of this mission.

By doing this, seemingly selfless act, I am filling myself with the warm and the fuzzy (the non hormone flavor), thus easing the blow of the most recent flurry of bad news.

So, the next time you get 5 inches of snow in the beginning of December (or a BFN for the gazillionth time in a row, but who’s counting) and you feel like rapid firing 3 dozen sugar cookies up Kris Kringle’s jolly red ass, do something selfish, get some warm and get some fuzzy.