random updates

1. I can't seem to get off the vicodin. And if I am off the vicodin, I have to be lying completely flat on my back or else the gas pain in my right shoulder gets to be too much. This doesn't bode well for work tomorrow, as I don't think I can be on the vicodin OR lying flat on my back while I'm there.

2. My rather impressive bruise on my belly is starting to fade. It was about palm-sized and purple/blue/red in all sorts of places. I took a picture of it because I am just that sick. It's going green/yellow around the edges now, and I hope it will be completely gone soon because...

3. We go on vacation two weeks from today! And I don't know how well the tankini would hide that monstrous bruise.

4. I have been an unholy bitch lately and I feel horrible for my hubby.

5. Having a period while on "vaginal rest" (aka can't use tampons) BLOWS.

6. I'm hopeful about this next cycle. Dr. Lovely says since my last cycle was 20 days, I probably ovulated around CD7-10. I bought some OPKs (even though I hate those effing things) and will start using those tomorrow on CD6. I'll keep you posted. I REALLY hope that this past cycle wasn't a fluke.

7. This Saturday I'm getting a pedicure. SWEET.

Edit: you know you want to see it:

Laparoscopy update

You're not going to believe this. I had my laparoscopy and hysteroscopy today. Guess what? I don't have a bicornuate uterus or a septate uterus. My uterus is perfectly shaped. HAH! Fuck you, HSG!

But (even more of a surprise) I had some mild endo that Dr. Lovely lasered off. I didn't expect that since I don't really have endo symptoms, but it's officially worth it to have gone through all this now. And now I feel confident that I have a beautiful pink baby-friendly uterus and that makes me happy.

You know what else makes me happy? That weird cycle (that ended up being only 20 days) I was posting about turned out to be ovulatory all on its own. I started a period last night. I even got a photo of my post-ovulatory ovary to prove that the ovulation happened (it looks like there's a pimple on it). I hope it wasn't a fluke. Maybe I can kick this PCOS's ass after all.

I'll give more updates about the lap later...and sorry this post is a bit weird but I'm all loopy on my lovely Vicodin : )

A buncha randomness

Quick update: my friend, J, did not announce a pregnancy today at lunch. I don’t know if I feel more 1) relieved that I don’t have to deal with it for at least a few weeks or more 2) foolish that I worried so much. Infertility has made me a suspicious, paranoid, crazy person.

My lap is scheduled for Thursday morning. I would say I am nervous about these things, in this order:

3. Finding out it was all for nothing because I don’t have a septate uterus

2. Recovery and gas pains

1. Waking up at 5 am to give myself an enema

I went for pre-testing last week and was given lots of colorful brochures. One, entitled pain management, has the typical smiley face scale useful when rating your pain. 

It explains that during recovery I will be asked to rate my pain every few minutes so they can determine how much of what kind of medicine to send me home with. Meaning, I will say 10 10 10 10 10 because you know I love narcotics and I like to have a nice little nest of leftovers at all times.

When I got there the lady made me stand on a digital scale. I hate scales. My weight flashed and I said “Hey that’s awesome, it’s in kilograms and I have no idea what that means!” She just stared at me blankly and then pressed a button which switched it over to pounds. Bitch.

While I was there they drew blood for a pregnancy test (ha…ha…it’s hilarious, I know). One nurse was prepping me for the blood draw while one was going over a list of medical conditions with me: “I’m going to name a bunch of conditions, stop me if any of them apply to you.” Of course the other nurse couldn’t get the needle in, so while I’m feeling it bump around on either side of the vein repeatedly I’m being barraged with her droning on and on: “rheumatoid arthritis, cancer, lupus, HIV/AIDS, type 1 diabetes, type 2 diabetes, gout, anxiety, depression, heart disease, liver disease...” Finally when she was done blabbing and the other nurse had gotten my blood I looked at her and said “I didn’t hear anything you just said.” The because there was a needle in my vein while you were talking, dumbass was implied.  

The strange unmedicated symptoms continue. I have blue, veiny boobs. I’ve never had blue, veiny boobs in my life. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was knocked up.

Happy Valentine’s day to everyone. I kind of hate Valentine’s day – it seems like it makes single people as miserable as Mother’s day makes us – and A and I decided not to celebrate today. We’ll pick another day when we’re not so busy and flowers aren’t so expensive and the restaurants aren’t so packed. He is romantic in his own sweet, simple ways. I am extremely lucky to have him, but I know that every day.

Infertility: 2, Me: 0

I am at the point where I can look back and name two friendships already killed by infertility.

One was with a co-worker, L. We used to hang out outside work and talk a lot during the work day. When I confided in her that I was diagnosed with PCOS and scared, she (who has a son with her boyfriend they accidentally conceived 3 weeks into their relationship) scoffed and said "I think you'll find it's much easier to get pregnant than you realize." Ouch, you clearly didn't listen to anything I have just said.

Last summer while I had just begun treatments and a dear friend of ours had a 5 year old daughter preparing for brain surgery, L seemed almost allergic to asking us how things were going for us, preferring to talk endlessly about herself and complain about her own (comparatively) trivial problems. We were both hurt by her actions. Her lack of compassion and understanding meant I really had no choice but to cut her out.

It has been since last July that I stopped considering her a friend. Knowing then that we had been TTC for six months, it still hurts sometimes that she never asks me how it's going or how I'm holding up.

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The other friendship was much deeper and it's apparent ending is causing me a lot of stress. I have written about this friend before, J. Up until about September, J and I were fine. I probably would have called her my best friend. We shared everything, talked on the phone a couple of times a week and emailed daily. She was with me through the first part of my treatments. But then, she and her husband started TTC and I just couldn't take it. She started confiding in me about their (heartbreakingly normal) TTC plans and it just killed me. I tried to explain it to her but she didn't understand, and I think at that point she decided to stop trying to understand.

Then, about a month ago when things were already really tense between us, she sent me an email telling me I should start going to church. She got pretty pushy about it, and I was extremely offended. I thought she understood that I grew up Catholic and I feel really uncomfortable there. That going back to church would require a change in religion which is hard for anyone at any point in their life, let alone right now. Most of all, I think, I was hurt that she thought I hadn't even considered church and that I didn't have good reasons for avoiding it.

I waited four days to respond. In my opinion, I politely refused and explained that I don't want to hear "This is God's plan" more than I already do. She was apparently irreversibly hurt by the way I rejected her suggestion. We have barely spoken since.

I am nervous that soon she will be telling me she's pregnant. I feel bad because it was a great friendship gone awkwardly bad. I feel guilty because I'm having surgery on Wednesday and she doesn't even know. And how am I supposed to tell her when things are so awful between us?

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So that's, two infertility. I don't have very many left. Please let me keep these.

Two big appointments

Laparoscopic surgery is scheduled for next Wednesday morning. Those of you who have had this done...any pointers?

Our appointment with the RE is Monday, May 23. Might as well be in 2015! Hopefully we won't need it, but it's comforting to have it on the books just in case.

Life is changing.

The weird vagina appt

(first of all, the weird vagina is fine. just a small, out-of-the-way septum. boy am I tired of hearing that "s" word.)
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I've been saying for a week that there was a meltdown coming around the bend. I wish I had been wrong.

It started in the waiting room. Since I still see an OBGYN, the waiting room was full of big, beautiful, pregnant bellies. The tears started then.

The nurse who checked me in saw I was distraught. She confided that it took her five years to get pregnant the first time. That's when the crying really started. I don't know what part of that she thought would comfort me. Four more years of this? I'll be catatonic.

I nervously brought up the septate vs. bicornuate uterus thing with Dr. Lovely. She told me that I was right, an HSG doesn't diagnose between the two. The diagnosis can only be made surgically, and they don't usually do surgery until "you start having problems".

This is really hard for me to stomach. If I have a septate uterus, the septum can be removed and everything will be fine. We all know that "having problems" is a code word for "miscarrying". I'm really not comfortable waiting for a poor baby to die needlessly to decide that we need to have surgery to find out what sort of fucked up my uterus is. I talked it over with A (through many tears) and he feels the same. We'd rather I go under the knife now.

A lady in my yoga class has a daughter with a septate uterus. Poor girl had three miscarriages, all in the fourth month, before she found out she had a septum. No thank you.

Think about it: say I get pregnant next month. Knowing what I know (that my uterus could be bicornuate or it could be septate) I'll be terrified for months. If I have surgery now, I'll know for sure, and if there's a septum, it can be removed. And if there's not a septum, I can't really look at it as pointless surgery. Because I'll know.

The other bit of information I learned is that I will be referred to an RE after my next IUI. In fact, they're referring me now since it takes months to get in.

It's expected that I'll get my RE consult in May. So I have February, March, and April and only one more treatment cycle with Dr. Lovely. Our plan now is to ask for laproscopic surgery as soon as possible, take Feb and March off, have our final IUI in April and hopefully never have to see the RE (he's three hours away, but has an excellent reputation).

I'm literally going to have to call the doctor's office and fight for my right to have my abdomen cut open, perhaps unnecessarily. My husband and I both feel that this is the correct decision to make. Have we both gone off the deep end?