"Where didja come from? Where didja go?"

I had my monitoring appointment today.  In an interesting turn of events, the ultrasound tech could not find my left ovary.  Seriously.  In a very fetish porn movie fashion, she was basically stirring my vagina with the dildo-cam trying to locate my rogue ovary and was unable to do so for almost 5 minutes.  5 minutes is a very long time when you're spread-eagle in a freezing room with a old lady swirling a shaft around your nether regions.  Finally, she used her elbow and squashed my bladder down and lo and behold, my ovary!  She rejoiced while I tried not to pee on the table.

By the way, it feels like I am carrying two large bunched of grapes around in my pelvis.  Billions of follicles.

What the hell is up with this font?  It's out of control!

Nevertheless, egg retrieval is scheduled for Friday at 11AM.  OMFG!

"Come a little bit closer, you're my kind of man..."

I have a million follicles.

100mg of clomid for 5 days and I have a million follicles.  And by a million, I mean 12-14.  So, yay, I guess.

Monitoring this morning.  As always, everything looks perfect.  I feel like the day the doctor says, "oh god, this cycle is a hot mess!" will be the day I get pregnant.  The word "perfect" scares me.

Also, the idea of my 5'-2" 98 pound russian doctor calling anything a "hot mess," cracks me up.

I wonder if anyone else has seen the commercial for wheat thins where a woman is surrounded by an  ominous swirling cloud of crackers?  She has to break though by lunging at the crackers and snapping at them with her teeth.  I dunno.  Seems a bit to visceral for a product that tastes like compressed pencil shavings.

I never want to be chased by crackers.


Conversation between SC (student) and my 19 year old summer undergrad volunteer...
SC: I want to be a priest.
Volunteer: Oh, are you religious?
SC: Yeah...
Volunteer: How so?
SC: You know...I'm jealous and stuff... of other men...
Volunteer: Oh (looks bewildered).... yeah...I can see how that's religious....



I want babies.  Now.

"Our dreams went up in dreams, you stupid pothead."

So, it's not bad enough that I'm not pregnant yet.  No.  The whole thing is made infinitely worse by the fact that since starting clomid and ovidrel and progesterone, my periods have gotten un-fucking-bearable.

Seriously.  Clots the size of Yorkshire terriers are coming out of my body.  I guess this is what I get for bragging about my super thick lining.... I get to feel every last centimeter of it cleaving off my uterus.


And here's some more good news: I may not even have any eggs.  My wife is going to slaughter me for even bothering to entertain these thoughts but, honestly, it's a possibility.  My AMH level was like .3 or something like that.  It's supposed to be over 1.  In older women, .3 equals ovarian failure (menopause).  In people my age, it equals premature ovarian failure or, a wonky test.   What's weird is that my FSH is perfect.  I think it's around 4.  Usually, in cases of premature ovarian failure the FSH is in the 20's.   Also my antral follicle count is 24, which is awesome and I'm a mega-super-duper (not a technical term) responder to electron sized doses of clomid.  The RE said that she seriously doubts that I have premature ovarian failure... but she added that, normally, an AMH of .3 means no eggs.

In summary: No one knows what the hell is going on and I may not have any eggs which at this point wouldn't even be surprising because pretty much everything else in this process has gone totally fucking wrong.


I'm not pregnant.  Time to go smoke a bowl.

"Lets get together and feel alright."

And now we're here.  

IVF.

Really?  

Yep.

Dang.

$8K?

Yep.

*facepalm* Dang.

Stay tuned for the excitement of IVF #1.  

Yep.

Dang.

Fuck.


Just, fuck.

"She's got a ticket to riiide..."

12 DPO??

What the hell?  When did we get here?


I can't even begin to comment on the ups and downs of this cycle.  Instead, I'll wave my prescription of AstraZeneca around like a cute little flag...


Ok, I lied.  No AstraZeneca....


Am I pregnant or not?  Make up your fucking mind, peestick!


Can I still wave a cute little flag?

"When I was younger, so much younger than today..."

One score and 7 years ago:

I was ripped from my 27 year old mother's womb a full month after my due date.  I was bone dry, having outlasted my amniotic fluid and the umbilical cord was wrapped snugly around my neck.  Also, I was 9lbs and jaundiced as hell.  As Vivaldi's "The Four Seasons" played in the operating room, my mother laid on the gurney smiling the sweet smile of new motherhood and epidurals while the doctor stitched her guts back in from the c-section.  A day later, she developed a staph infection.

But, we all survived and now 27 years later, I find myself going through my own struggle to reach motherhood the only difference being whereas my mother couldn't get the baby out, I can't seem to get the baby in.

Today is like, I dunno, a buncha DPO.  More than 4, less than 8.  I tested today because I knew I would get a strong positive due to the HCG trigger and I wanted to see two pink lines on my birthday... even if they are fake.