JUS GIMMEH MAH LUPRON, LADEH!

As we know, last week I had to fight with my favorite nurse Sally to do another fresh cycle. It was not that bad, because I'm good at fighting and can usually end up getting my way. So when we left off, Sally was going to call and order me my injectibles. I fully realize that ordering injectibles through my insurance is a royal pain in the ass, and when I get involved, I am always glad that it's not my job to handle it from the beginning because GAWD! Just send the drugs, people! They are not fun, high inducing drugs! They suck ass, so don't worry…I won't sell them to elementary school kids!

Yesterday, on my lunch break (totally on my lunch break, and not during work, at all….) I called the specialty company that handles the drugs for the fertility-challenged. Just to check and make sure my order was in the works. Because I'm not sure if you realized? But I start project sleepy time Lupron on SUNDAY! So I need my drugs, preferably by Friday. And nobody has called and asked for my $100 copay (yes, am lucky) so I figure they haven't even processed my order yet.

I call and am annoyed immediately:

Jen: Hello random lady, I am doing IVF and would like to check the status of my injectible order.

Random Lady: OK, sure, let me just check… *click, click, click * I see that the meds were shipped to you at the end of February. Did you not get them?

Jen: Yes, I got those ones…?

Random Lady: Great! Is there anything else I can assist you with today?

Jen: Yes. I have a new order. I need to check the status of that order. Not from February. From now. Like, last week. For use this coming Sunday…? Is any of this ringing a bell….?

Random Lady: Already?!

Jen: Um, yes, asshole. My IVF failed. Am doing another. Status? Murder? Rage?

Random Lady: Really? Another IVF already? That's so soon!

Jen: Sally? Is that you?

Random Lady: Usually they aren't so close together! Well, let me just check to see if there is a new order… *click, click, click…. *

Jen: Don't bother. I just gouged out both of my eyes, and now I am going to throw myself down the stairs…

Random Lady: Oh, I see. Yes, you are doing another IVF.

Jen: Really? Great. Thank you for confirming, because I wasn't sure. But now I am. You should get a raise and maybe free dinner.

Random Lady: The order is loading now…so you really want to do another IVF so soon? It's really hard on your body, you know.

Jen: Yes, I know. I love putting my body through unnecessary, painful processes. After this phone call? I'm going to sneak down to the bathroom and self-flagellate in one of the bathroom stalls.

 

So seriously, this phone call was really annoying, but I was nice to Random Lady, and today I did get a phone call to confirm my order. The only problem is that Novidrel is backordered for an indefinite amount of time. Which is stupid! MY GOSH! So I had to get Sally on the job again (she is awesome, seriously. I love her) and she ordered me Ovidrel instead. What is the difference? Who the hell knows?!

My big box of drugs will be coming on May 1^st, and you know I'll be taking pictures again. Because I am that much of a loser.

I must also give my most sincere apologies for my sucky blog commenting. School is kicking my ass, and it's ALMOST over – next week is finals! So I'll be a way better random internet friend after next week.

 

 

Infertility Pants

I was doing the wardrobe last weekend – out with the sweaters, in with the tank tops and capris! I know, it's a little bit early for the wardrobe switch, but I've been trying to clean up all aspects of my life lately, and my closets need some serious cleaning out. So, early wardrobe switch.

While going through all of my items of clothing, I had a strange thought: I think the range of sizes of pants in my closet tell the story of my life over the past two years. Let me explain this…

 

Size 4: Dating and Newlywed pants. Skinny-(for me)Pants. Feeling pretty good pants.

Size 6: Happily Married Pants. Respectable-Size-Pants. Still feeling OK pants.

Size 8: Bummed About Not Being Pregnant Pants. Comfort-Eating-Pants. Getting a little chubby pants. Finding out that we need IVF pants.

Size 10: Fertility Treatment Pants. So-Bloated-I-Can't-Bend-Over-Pants. Quite rotund, need rolled down hallways pants.

 

Today, while I was cleaning out my closet, I threw caution to the wind and tried on my Size 4's, and they fit(ish). They aren't as loose as they used to be, and the size 6's would clearly be a better fit. But they zipped right up. And it seems like a good thing, that I didn't retain all of the 10 pounds that I gained during my failed IVF cycle, I can't say that I'm happy to be zipping up the skinny pants. I mean, gaining weight is never a good thing in my book. And going up three pant sizes in two years is embarrassing, really. But for so long, I've been waiting and waiting for that coveted big belly.

I'd love to be shopping for maternity pants and happily gaining weight.

p.s.- More about why I'm fat, here.

Panic! about the IVF*

OR: Multiple Personalities Much?

Tuesday was a day filled with so many switching emotions, that I considered calling for psychiatric consult to sort through what must obviously be my multiple personality disorder. In the early morning? Exhausted. In the late morning? Hopeful. In the early afternoon? Pissed off. In the late afternoon? Happy! In the evening? Stressed!

When I talked to Dr. Goldfarb last week, he said it was fine to move forward with another fresh cycle. I discussed my reasoning with him, including the fact that we have two vacations coming up (Caribbean! Vegas!). He seemed to think it was fine. Told me to call on my cycle day 1.

Speaking of cycle day 1 – what has been happening since Tuesday could only be described as PURE MENSTRUAL EVIL! Just…wow. And not cool.

Anyway, after the commencement of PURE MENSTRUAL EVIL, I called the office to get my prescription for birth control pills so that I could get started. And I was so excited! Because I got Sally! My favorite!

Except! She seemed to be really annoyed that I had the nerve to schedule TWO vacations this summer when hello? I’m infertile, I should know better than to try to plan something other than vag cam visits and bloodwork.

I should know better than to, I don’t know, enjoy my life. How selfish of me! And maybe it is selfish to need to have something to look forward to other than sub-q shots and daily violations of my already public vagina. BUT, if the first IVF worked, it wouldn’t be an issue now, would it? No. So maybe we both screwed up, Sally. How ‘bout them apples? Sour, aren’t they?

So Sally was annoyed with me, and was telling me that they weren’t going to let me do an IVF before two vacations, and then changed her mind and said maybe between the Caribbean and Vegas (which still makes no sense), then went back to no! No IVF for you until September!

From what I could gather, her rationale was this: if I am pregnant after IVF # 2, I don't know how I'll feel. Will traveling harm a potential pregnancy? Well, no. But still! You might not feel good. And do you have travel insurance?

My rationale was this: if I am pregnant after IVF # 2, it's not like I get a 9 month pass to sit at home if I don't feel good. I'll still have to go to work and school, and resume life like normal. So either I can go to the Caribbean, lay on my ass all day, and eat lots of food. Or I can go to work from 8 - 4:30, then to school from 5 - 8, then get home and go to bed at 9. Which sounds more relaxing to you?

Our conversation ended with Sally saying that she would consult with the doctor and call me back, and me being irrationally angry at the prospect of waiting until September to try this all again. I mean, do you have any idea how many more pregnancies, baby announcements, baby showers, and birthday parties there will be between now and then? Too many, that’s how many.

Four hours later, Sally called back and pretty much acted like we never had our earlier conversation. She called in my birth control prescription, and said that she would call and order my medications. While the doctor didn’t really think the vacations were a super big deal, we will be overlapping my birth control and Lupron for a week in order to move the retrieval and transfer up a week. That way, if IVF # 2 does work, I’ll have two betas in before I leave for the cruise.

Have I mentioned that I love getting my way?

The short version: crisis averted, IVF # 2 started yesterday. (If I was nice, I would've put that at the beginning so you didn't have to read the entire thing. If I was really a jerk, I would've put it after the dumbass footnotes.)

*Have you heard the crap news about Panic! at the Disco? Apparently, then have changed their name from: Panic! at the Disco, to: Panic at the Disco. Why would you ever ever do that? Well, I had that exact same question! Apparently, people were having a hard time finding and downloading their songs on iTunes because of the “!” and so they are changing it so that they can make more money. I think they should change their name to: Sellout! on the iTunes. Money grubbing whores. Mostly, I’m just mad because now, when I hear one of their songs, I can’t yell “PANIC!" (at the top of my lungs) "at the disco" (at a whisper).” **

**Also, Panic (no !) at the Disco has also lost it’s coveted #1 spot on my List of Awesome Band Names. Maybe you’ve never heard of my List of Awesome Band Names, and that’s your problem. You should know that it is a highly sought-after(ish) honor in the entertainment industry. And Panic! at the Disco was #1, just in front of #2, Butthole Surfers. But Butthole Surfers is now #1, and #2 goes to a tie between Limp Bizkit and Mr. Mister. ***

***OMFG! I have hit a new low, haven’t I? It’s sad. Send nachos.

Got Some News!

Have you ever had something exciting happen, but you were afraid to tell people? Like maybe the action of just saying it would make it blow up in your face and not happen at all?

Just that sort of thing has happened to me. I got some really great news, an offer for an opportunity that I never really thought possible. I've told a few people, but mostly I've kept it quiet for fear that it would all fall apart and I'd have to share my disappointment with too many people.

But I've signed a contract, and they are obligated to keep me (sort of) so I guess it's safe to tell you: I'm going to be blogging for the Infertility Diaries at Redbook.com.

Somehow I was lucky enough to get cyber spotted, and someone thought I would be a good addition to the blog. Right now, JJ from Reproductive Jeans is blogging, and I will be joining her!

I'm still going to be keeping up this blog while blogging for Infertility Diaries. But the entries will be different – so come over and show me some love! And continue to show me love here.

Because I love love.

Things I Did Today

1. Bought tampons.
2. Bought prenatal vitamins.
3. Informed Wal-Mart cashier that YES, they are BOTH for me.
4. Ate chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.

It's going to be an exciting day, friends.

Beta is Negative, but I'm surprisingly not.

So I got the confirmation of the negative beta today, and really? Not a big deal.

I don't think the nurse really knew what to do with me, because she was being really sweet and saying she was sorry, and I really had no emotion about the situation whatsoever. She even asked, "Did you expect this? Did you start to bleed?" And I said no, that I did a home test this week, so I knew what to expect.

She also seemed a little taken aback when I asked what we need to do to start another fresh cycle right away. I mean, maybe she's used to people crying and just being too upset to move on. She explained it to me, and we were done! I talked to her while Mark and I walked the dogs in the park, and it is upper 70's and perfectly sunny today.

I just couldn't be sad today. I had a great day.

About a half hour after I spoke with the nurse, Dr. Goldfarb called me to also say he was sorry, and he understands how frustrating it is, and he is frustrated too. He said that the nurse told him that I wanted to try another fresh cycle, and I think he basically wanted to make sure I had my head screwed on straight.

You know, since I do have three babycicles, and a FET is way easier than a complete IVF cycle.

And yes, I could do a frozen cycle, but I am not going to post the rationale behind the choice to do another fresh on my soon to be very public blog (more about that in a few days...) for fear of being Dooced, if you know what I'm saying.

(Not that I would mind ending up like Dooce, but I don't have that kind of talent, so I can't be that bold)

So, when I get my period (which, apparently, will be a doozie), I will call and get a prescription for birth control pills. After taking them for three weeks, I will start my Lupron, and so on with the stims, and the retrieval and transfer in early June.

While I'm not feeling particularly funny today, I am feeling really positive. I just feel like infertility has been getting the best of me lately. And by lately, I mean the past two years. And I'm over it.

I don't have a baby, and I can't easily have one. And you know what? That fucking sucks. But I do have a kick ass, hilarious husband who I love madly, wonderful family, and fabulous friends. I like my job, and I'm close to having a Master's degree in a subject that is challenging to me and makes me use my brain in new ways.

And lots of really positive things have come out of infertility for me in the past few weeks. So while it sucks, it has opened me up to new possibilities that never occurred to me before.

I just don't want to look back and feel like I flushed these years down the toilet. Yes, infertility is a giant part of my life, but it isn't my whole life. I'm not going to let it eat away at all of the things I love about my life.

Two years is enough.

(Also, I have some cute dog pics to post, but not today.)

Superstar!

It's been another fabulous school week of getting back tests that I took last week, and a) did not study enough for, and b.) figured I failed miserably. And another week of just eeking by with B's in both! While some people might call that mediocre, I say B's get degrees, bitches!

Which leads me to my next point (or, my first point, depending on how you look at it): Aren't I a SUPERSTAR?! B's? OMG! Genious. I'm not sure how I manage to do it, and I keep trying to think about how I do, and I think my feelings would be best expressed by a monologue from the classic and very educational Anchorman:


I don't know how to put this, but I'm kind of a big deal. I have many leather-bound books and my apartment smells of rich mahogany.

And sometimes, when I get nervous, I put my fingers under my arms and then smell them, like this...



And after I finish a test, I like to fall backwards and crush a table, and expose my white granny panties.

Well, this sucks.

I mean, I wish there was some funny spin to put on a negative home pregnancy test, after your 25th month of trying to get pregnant, and after your first procedure of state-of-the-art motherfucking SCIENCE fails.

But really. I knew how this was going to end. Don't think for one second I was little miss sunshine this entire cycle. I'm still saying "if" we ever have a baby, and "if" I ever get pregnant. And "if" any single person tries to tell me that I need to think positive if I want to get a positive result? Well, I will positively knock their ass out.

Transfer was last Saturday. Monday - Thursday, I felt like ass on a platter. I was sick, burping and dry heaving at my desk. Pretty much feeling like the antibiotic they made me take was eating an escape hole in my stomach. Because maybe my antibiotic would have more fun floating around my abdominal cavity? I don't know why.

During the same time, I felt weird. Tired, sick, my boobs were so sore and I thought for a second...hey, maybe...

Then Friday - poof! I felt 100% better. Like I haven't felt since I started Lupron. I felt like a million bucks, which I wish I had right now so that I could commence serious retail therapy. Saturday? The same. Felt fine.

Sunday. Sunday I got the bad news from Katie. And it just sealed my fears that this did.not.work. I could feel it. I could feel it on Friday when I was all, "fuck, where did the "symptoms" go?" And yes I know that pregnancy doesn't have to be a hormonal war of the worlds, but it just felt like something changed between Thursday and Friday where I couldn't even think in my mind that we had a shot of this working.

On Sunday I told Mark, "I don't think it worked." And he was like, "what? all of it" and I said yes. He was the first person I admitted it to. I had one pregnancy test left from the IUI we did in November, and even though I was adamant about not testing before the beta, I knew I would test Monday morning. I knew because we have Friday off, and we made a bunch of plans, and I just want to have the day off and enjoy it. I wanted to get the pain out of the way.

Despite my thought that a negative pregnancy test would be less of a blow if I knew it was negative, it was awful. I felt like going outside and running as fast as I could because my heart was pounding and I couldn't catch my breath. All I could, and all I keep, thinking is how we are never going to be able to have a family, because this is it. It doesn't work for us. We had doctors fertilize our fucking eggs for us, we had the embryos halfway hatched going in, we had steroids to make my uterus all but suck in the embryo. And no. We still don't get the one thing that everyone else gets for FREE! By having sex and maybe an orgasm!

So I cried at home before I left, and cried in the car on the way to work. Then I had to make myself stop crying before I got to work because hello? AM UGLY CRIER! Everyone will know! I think the red satanic eyes, tomato face, and snot hanging down to my chin would be obvious. So I drove with my windows down in 30 degree weather for the last 20 minutes.

Have you ever seen American Beauty? I was all Annette Benning at work - were she was trying to sell that shitty house to someone, and she closes all the windows and starts bawling for about 20 seconds, then she stands up and starts slapping herself in the face. Then she's composed, fine, walks right out of the house with a smile on her face. Totally me at work. I would tear up, then in my mind, I'd be saying, "stop it, you fucking pathetic baby. stop it. get over yourself." And I'd be fine for a little while.

Being Monday and all, I had work, then school. So all I could think about all day was just getting back to my car after class and letting it go. Just crying all the way home and crying myself to sleep. But apparently scheduled crying isn't all it's cracked up to be, and instead of wanting to cry, I just wanted to listen to old school Mariah Carey on shuffle (Mimi is my vice. My secret weakness).(shut up) So I did. And then I came home and ate popcorn, cheese cubes and pickles, because it was the first time all day that I had any appetite at all. Thanks Mimi - your music brought back my appetite.

I also got my letter today about the 5 extra embryos that were sitting in the lab, trying to get to blast. 4 of them "died in culture," and only one made it to freeze. And yes, yes, yes, aren't we lucky to have 3 on ice and blah blah blah. But excuse me for being the smug jerk who thought hey! we're young and healthy! We should have 5 or 6 make it to blast and freeze! No. 3. That is all. And all of them were ICSI, because apparently there is not a shot in hell of us having an egg fertilized naturally.

I tried to get online and google anything to make me feel better, but all you find are stories of BPF at 7dp3dt! BFN and 7dp3dt but BFP at 8dp3dt! You don't see anyone saying, yeah well, BFN 10dp3dt, then BFP 11dp3dt because if you have a negative at 10 days past, you should hang it up. You're toast. Not good toast with peanut butter - shitty toast that is burned on one side and has butter substitute sprayed on it.

And now I just feel kind of bitter and weird. I don't want to talk to anybody, because I know people are sick of the ridiculous failure. I know that people will try to say something nice, but will probably just say something like, "well, there's always adoption" or "you should've done acupuncture, then it would've worked." Because why not? I mean, you kick a homeless guy as you walk by him when he's down, right? Why not just kick me, too. In the uterus. Go ahead. There's nothing in there that you could hurt anyways.

10dp3dt

BFN

I'm sorry.

To the people who searched Google for the following things, but ended up here instead:

Google Search: "hairy legs"
(of course)

Google Search: "how to relax during semen analysis"
(ew, I don't know what to tell you)

Google Search: "maybe if I just relax"
(honey, just forget about relaxing! It would be just as effective to wish for a UNICORN to bring you a baby.)

Can't have babies. Can buy dogs.

All this talk about infertility and baby-lusting, and I forgot! I have babies - two of them!

(One for each year of infertility...what a nice coincidence.)

So, since we're all Innernet BFFs, you should meet my babies, Baxter and Milo. They are Shih Tzus. Baxter is a year and a half old, and Milo is almost a year old.


Milo(left)thinks about which pose will make him look the most dignified. Baxter (right) is quite certain he smells sausages.



Milo: If I let you take my picture, will you promise to get my haircut?
Jen: I make no promises.


Baxter: I just ate a turd. I'm sure it was my own (my favorite kind).


Milo: Noooooo! This angle is unflattering! It makes left eye look lazy!


Milo: Yes, I ate this box. What of it, kind sir?


Baxter: HA! Get a load of these WEEDS! Quick, you gotta get my pic with these!


Jen: Eh! Twins would be a breeze! (Right?)

Guess who forgot to wear her estrogen patches today?

(points both thumbs toward self)

This gal!

That calendar? Useless.

Jen’s Anatomy

Bladder – is pissed. Is having no more of this scrunched up, crowded abdomen. Is making me pay with multiple trips to the bathroom and vague symptoms of a UTI. Ovaries are being overbearing and Bladder is so over it.

Ovaries – planning hostile takeover. Are strong and mighty from the fertility drugs, and are revolting in what can only be compared to a roid rage. Are in cahoots with Bladder but negotiations are at a standstill (Ovaries are trying to steal all the glory, obviously). Thinks Bladder is a pansy ass.

Ass – Hurts. Is big. Has prick-marks all over. Is threatening to bruise. Wonders why someone hit me in ass with a baseball bat, but the realizes that it is from the PIO Shots. Considers joining the Bladder and Ovaries in their mission to FUCK JEN UP!

Stomach – is sick of all of these drugs. Is churning at smells, but strangely wanted to suck Grey Poupon directly out of the little foil packet in my sandwich kit. Now producing Grey Poupon burps every 5 minutes (is not so bad, actually).

Face – is ugly. Has morphed into pizza-faced teenage boyface in the past week. Beginning to bear an odd resemblance to Gary Busey.

Bewbies – Ouch. And veiny. That is all.

Brain – finds this post to be lame. And thinks that maybe I should be studying for my accounting test, while at the same time refusing to retain any additional information like a baby refusing to take a spoon full of pureed carrots.

The only reason my back isn't on here as an enemy of the state is because guess what I found out today? That my car seat as LUMBAR SUPPORT! My fucking god. In my defense, I've only had the car since December. But still I probably should've realized sooner because I've had the car since December.

 

What are my plans for April?

Well, it's funny you should ask.

I'm going to take enough pills and shots to tranq a large horse.
And I'm going to take two tests. (three if you include the beta)

Try to hide your jealousy, please.

The longest post in the history of infertile whining.

So it seems I've gotten a little bit behind! My most sincere apologies.

I had my retrieval on Tuesday, and it went pretty well.

We started off by meeting with one of the nurses, who taught us how to do the Progesterone in Oil shot. Call me crazy, but this does not look like good times. Leave with my giant bag o' giant needles and head back to the operating area to get ready for the retrieval.

I get back to the room, get nekked under my lovely gown, and begin answering a million questions. While answering questions, a nice nurse comes over and says, "I'm going to get your IV in while you're finishing up with these questions."
I'm forever having problems with IVs. What can I say? I'm a delicate flower. Here is a recap:


Nice Nurse: OK, Jen, I'm just going to try to find a vein here. So let your arm hang down and make a tight fist.

Jen: You should know, I'm kind of a passer-outer.

Nice Nurse: No big deal. Keep making that fist...just don't punch me!

Jen: I'm not making any promises.

Nice Nurse: *laughs* (she was so innocent)

Nice Nurse: I'm going to try your hand here...

Jen: Oh, shit.

Nice Nurse: Hmm...this doesn't seem to be working. Hmm...OK, I'm wussing out.

Jen: Oh, shit.

Eventually it was all OK, and the anesthesiologist had to come and save the day.

After that it gets blurry. I went back into the OR, verified my name for the embryologist, and lay down on this crazy table where your arms are out to the sides and your legs are in these giant padded stirrup torture device things. The last thing I remember saying is, "I'm having trouble focusing." (No shit, dumbass, you're drugged.)

As you know, we got 13 eggs. If I'm being honest with you? I was kind of disappointed and thought it would be way more. But I suppose beggers can't be choosers, and I suppose I'm being a greedy whore. An honest greedy whore.

When I woke up I felt fine and was ready to get home and get some sleep. First I ate some Burger King, because yum.

The next two days, we found out that we made 9 embryos, and they looked great. On Thursday I got the call saying that we would be doing a day 3 transfer for Friday.

I was really excited about the transfer, until I started to mentally torture myself over why I wasn't doing a 5 day transfer. Were my embryos not strong enough to go to blast? Was this just a shot in hell at this point? Am I being set up for a major disappointment?

It really sucked, because since IVF started, I've felt good. I've not been focused on getting pregnant, which sounds crazy. I was taking shots, yes. But it just felt like something I was doing. I felt really disconnected from the entire process - going through the motions, doing what I had to do, suffering through the side effects. It was fine.

But after the retrieval when I knew we had embryos, it felt more real and I started to feel invested. So when I made the mistake of googling "Day 3 vs. Day 5 Transfer" I was in for a ton of unnecessary worrying and turmoil. And anxiety. And just general bitterness that I've been keeping tamped down and not showing anyone.

At the transfer, we found out that we had four perfect 8 cell embryos - two to transfer and two already in the cooler (our possible fututre babycicles). Five more are playing in the lab and if they reach blast, they will go to freeze.

The reasoning, according to the doctor, for the 3 day opposed to the 5 day - we had 4 that were clearly the strongest and didn't need to wait to go to blast because they were perfect. They already knew. The others were still developing well, but they were not the strongest and they needed to wait until day 5 to see if they were going to make it to freeze.

Day 3 does not = gloom and doom, apparently. I was assured by the doctor, the embryologist, and the nurse that the embryos looked great.

I got to see the embryos on a big screen, and got to watch the catheter place them in my uterus. It was so amazing. We got pictures of the embryos, and of the catheter. We also got the petri dish. But I don't know if I'm into the petri dish thing...it seems weird. "Hey kids! This was your first crib!"

After the transfer I was put in my room and told to wait 20 minutes then get up and go pee. Now, this was scary to me because I was hurting really bad, and the prospect of waiting 20 more minutes to pee made me want to pee my pants, but I couldn't pee my pants for obvious reasons.

I waited 15, then absolutely had to get up. I was having really bad stabbing pains in my bladder. My bladder was so full that I couldn't sit up, and Mark had to pull me up like Frankenstein. I ran down to the bathroom and sat on the toilet, expecting sweet relief.

Nothing....

I couldn't pee! I couldn't pee at all. I started to cry. It was embarrassing. Finally, a little bit came out and then I was completely nauseated and had to run back to the room and lay down. The nurse came in to scold me for getting up before my 20 minutes, and saw that I was crying and decided to take pity and get me some cool towels for my head.

A few minutes later, I tried to pee again. A little more, but mostly just pain. I kept telling the nurses, and I was getting looks. Looks like, "Welp, we've got a crybaby here who is nervous about the transfer."

Looks like they weren't realizing that FREDDY KRUGER was stabbing my bladder, and Edward Scissorhands had just left, and I couldn't give a shit about my embryos at this point because I would never pee again and would die from bladder-related complications. Fuck.

I was so pissed (heh...) that I went back to my room and started to get dressed, because if I had to be in pain and cry, I wanted to do it at my house. I couldn't stand up straight without having knife pains in my bladder while still feeling like my bladder was overfull.

I was half hunched over, walking down to the bathroom again when I think they finally realized that yes, I was in pain, and no, I wasn't just anxious or nervous. The doctor said that I was probably having bladder spasms, and that I needed to let them put in a catheter or I would end up in the ER.

10 minutes and one catheter later, I was lighter a few ounces of pee, but still in pain. Again, I decided to give up and go home. I was told to take two Tylenol 3 and relax.

I was in severe pain all night. I did feel better when I woke up this morning. And I didn't want to write about this, because it's all so negative. And the transfer is supposed to be positive and exciting! And it was, sort of.

Today I feel good. I'm definitely enjoying the bedrest!

More positive posts to come (probably)...I promise (sort of).

Another Quickie.

We have 9 embryos!

Update, real quick-like.

ER went pretty well. IV was a nightmare, but the procedure was easy.

13 Eggs. Fert report will be today between 9 and 11.

I have class tonight so I'll probably post a triple update on Thursday after the second fert report.

Kthxbye.