so soon?

I have a belly.

Look, I'm not a skinny girl. I've always had a belly. I'm apple-shaped. But my belly is a LOT bigger than it was even two weeks ago. I can't button my jeans - I'm holding them together with a hair elastic, although I'm hoping to finish sewing a belly band by tomorrow.

So yeah, everyone who ever told me that you pooch out about three seconds after your bfp with baby #2 was dead on.

Also, my boobs are bigger and inexplicably warm.

So the question is, how do I keep this pregnancy under wraps for the next seven weeks?

365

That's a doubling time of 39 hours, or 1.6 days. In short, it's fabulous. My nurse was suitably impressed. On November 16 we'll do an ultrasound to see who's bouncing around in there.

Sorry it took me so long to post... Kali WOULD NOT NAP today. At one point she sat on my bed and stroked my hair while I napped, but she wouldn't sleep. It led to some interesting moments this evening.

Long story short, all the information we currently have points to good things for this pregnancy. Of course, that doesn't mean much on a cosmic scale, but I'll take what I can get.

Relief

I feel relieved. After 6 IUI's, our first IVF managed to get me pregnant.

You might think that the relief lies in knowing that I'm on my way to having the big family I've always wanted, in knowing that I'm growing another person. You might think that, but you'd be wrong.

I harbour no illusions that a positive pregnancy test means that in nine months there will be a take-home baby. None. I'm not really counting on this pregnancy to produce a baby. Maybe it will. I hope it will. But that's not the source of my relief, since the idea of this pregnancy brings a bit of anxiety with it.

No, I'm relieved because, for a little while at least, I can stop. I can stop the early-morning trips to the clinic. I can stop injecting myself with hormones. I can stop acting like I'm fine when all I want is to go back to bed and cry bitterly. I get to take a break.

My second beta, tomorrow, might give us a hint as to how long that break will be. Long or short, I do plan to enjoy it.

156

That's our lucky number. The nurse assured me that it's a very good number, especially since we did the beta a day earlier than the clinic usually does. I can't help remembering that my beta with Kali (same dpo) was 637, but, well, I'll take my nurse at her word. Besides, we all know that it's about the rate of increase and NOT about the absolute number. Right? Right?

So, it's official. Please - if you know me IRL, or even on FB, don't mention this. A few key people will be told, but other than that I don't plan to make any official announcements. When people figure it out, they figure it out.

all hpt's are equal, but some are more equal than others

You were all right. First off, a line is a line. But second, the dollar store tests are insanely faint compared to this:



Do you suppose the clinic would yell at me if I showed up for a beta tomorrow instead of Friday?

vision test.

Mr. December and I can't quite agree. How many lines do you see?



This one has been altered slightly - I increased the exposure and contrast.




It's 14 dpo (11 dp3dt), my urine wasn't super-concentrated, and these shadowy lines came up within 10 minutes. Also, they're definitely pink, and there are two of them. Is it too much to hope?

Oh, and does the faintness of the line have anything to do with the viability of the pregnancy?

I've been a bit despondent...

... and I only just figured out why. I'm so slow.

The worst part of IVF, so far, has been the complete lack of sex. No sex. It's been two weeks. Add to that the fact that I (partially?) observe the laws of Taharat Hamishpacha (which means no sex from CD1 until I'm positive I've stopped bleeding and/or spotting, and even then only after I've immersed in the mikvah), and you'll understand why I'm feeling deprived. It has been a long, long time.

All I can decently say about the resolution of this issue is that I've reminded Mr. December that our repertoire used to be more varied, once upon a time. Somehow, before it would have been appropriate to be consummating our relationship, we still managed more than our fair share of pleasure.

Last night I demanded satisfaction. Nobody was slapped with a glove and there was no duel, but I did get my choice of weapons.

I feel better now.

Who spiked my OJ?

Okay, people. Fess up. Who put Fentanyl in my orange juice?

I slept today until 2:30 p.m. - oh, sure, I got up for 20 minutes to feed Kali and get her dressed to go to her grandparents' house, but as soon as she walked out the door I was back in bed. The next thing I knew, it was 2:30.

I still feel drugged. And I'm not just saying that - I know what drugged feels like! Really, my limbs feel heavy and I feel like I could sleep from now into tomorrow.

Repeat after me:

It's just the progesterone.

(but wouldn't it be nice if it wasn't?)

the suspense is killing me

Really, I'm not usually this impatient at 8 dpo. Is it the progesterone talking, or have I lost the ability to wait and see? I want answers now! GAAAH.

The score: Sara - 2 Envy - 1

In the last two days I've found out that two more of my friends are pregnant. Based on their own disclosures, they both conceived within 5 months of stopping birth control. They're also those elusive "fertile myrtles" who got pregnant with their first babies the first time they tried. Yes, apparently they do exist.

Anyhow, I was able to be genuinely happy for them, albeit a bit subdued. Envy was nowhere to be seen. For now.

Do not be alarmed, it was just a dream.

A dream in which...

I exited the mall and found my car blocked in by bags of groceries.

Hmmm, I thought to myself, looks like a carjacking is about to go down. I looked around and identified a likely culprit - a skinny blond kid (maybe 15 years old?) in the next car over. I decided that I'd rather face off against the kid than deal with the insurance nightmare of getting my car replaced.

Cut to me in the backseat of the moving car, getting really pissed off because not only has the kid carjacked me, he's eating the snack that I bought for myself to enjoy on the drive home! The gall! It was clearly time to act.

I grabbed both his hands and got them behind his head. Suddenly my big brother was in the car with me, holding the steering wheel while I held the kid's wrists together. My brother steered the car home (to our childhood home, in which we haven't lived for the last six years). We wrestled the kid inside and I called 911.

The first time I called I got a recording:
Thank you for calling 911. Please hold for the next available operator. If you would like to speak to a supervisor, press 2. (in an undertone, I heard the same voice mutter, "they'd better not press 2. The supervisor's not here today.") I called again and this time got a lady who pretty much laughed me off the phone, even after I told her I had interrupted a carjacking in progress. She seemed to think it was no big deal, and told me that they had nobody who could deal with the situation at present.

Cut to the family room. The kid is lounging on the couch with my two brothers (waiting for the cops to come to their senses and pick him up? I don't know). He reveals that he just lives up the street with his mom and sister. Just then, a uniformed guy arrives at the door. He sizes up the situation and charges the kid with "being a dumb criminal" ("you make the real criminals look bad, kid. Don't try this again.") and congratulates me on having thwarted the boy. My dad arrives home and tries to "tip" the officer with a $50 bill. Somehow my brothers make it seem like the officer got the money, but manage to get it out of sight before the officer sees that he's been offered a tip/bribe. He takes the kid home. As they leave, I realize that the officer's uniform says "forestry and recreation" - he's some kind of park ranger. The 911 dispatcher couldn't be bothered to send the police.



Any interpretations, dear readers?

Phineas and Barnaby

On Saturday, we transferred two 8-celled embryos. They were our only two, and I'm thankful that they both seemed to be dividing and growing properly. We were given a lovely picture of the two of them - it's now up on my fridge, which seems silly even to me, but was the only place safe from toddler interference.

The embryos need nicknames. I've finally settled on Phineas and Barnaby... you know, these guys (from Family Guy):



I can just imagine them in there, riding their ridiculous turn-of-the-century bicycle and working out with microscopic little anvils. Oh, and implanting themselves.

Beta will be October 23.

eggs behaving badly

We just got the fertilization report:

11 eggs
9 were mature
2 fertilized

Yes, that's right. Only two fertilized. The lab said they'd watch them til tomorrow to give the rest a chance, but so far these eggs definitely look like underachievers.

So much for having extras to freeze...

Just say "yes", kids.

I'd be a poor choice for a high school teacher or a youth-group advisor - in fact, it's a good thing I left that particular job at my synagogue. If I were to teach a class tomorrow, the lesson would be two-fold:

1. Don't waste your money on birth control. That whole thing about sex making babies? A myth! Save up your money, put it in bonds, and you might have enough money for that IVF one day.

2. Say yes to drugs. As emphatically as possible. They're soooooo awesome.



So yeah... the retrieval went well, as far as I can remember. In my Fentanyl-induced haze I was vaguely aware that a needle repeatedly puncturing my ovaries would be excruciating if I wasn't drugged, but I was able to observe it with a degree of detachment. We got 11 eggs all together. They'll call us with a fertilization report tomorrow.

I thought I'd be able to enjoy a quiet afternoon at home with Mr. December, but I fell asleep as soon as we got home and only woke up a couple of times to beg for a popsicle ("no, not that one, that one's pineapple. I wanted Tutti Frutti!!!!"). I'm finally feeling lucid, and sore, and trying to figure out what exactly constitutes "more than slight spotting". If the toilet paper is covered in pink-and-brownish goo every time I wipe, does that warrant a call to the clinic?

Here we go...

We're about to leave for the clinic. Let's hope I only have to go through this once.

I'll update as soon as I can, allowing of course for several hours of general loopiness.

La di dah

I'm sitting up, waiting for Kali to go back to sleep after a way-too-early awakening. No point in going back to bed if she's just gonna start wailing again.

Why am I blogging this? Because otherwise, I'd have no chance to show off how cute and funny my kid is: she's trying to sing herself back to sleep. And her choice of song...

Brown Eyed Girl.

"la la la la la la di dah... la di dah..."

That's my baby!

coming soon...

This Wednesday... the reproductive event of the season:

Dr. C: Beautiful cycle!
(flash to black; flash to ultrasound image of an over-laden ovary)

When all is known...

Dr. C's assistant: (measuring follicles) that's 1.5, and another.... 1.6, and another...

And all is revealed...

(flash to small counseling room: desk is littered with needles and vials: nurse stands between Mr. and Mrs. December)
Nurse: ... need to abstain for two to three days. So, when did you last...
Mr. December: (blushes) uh... a couple hours ago.

When you've come this far...

(close-up of syringe of orgalutran being injected subcutaneously)

Expect to go all the way.

From the creators of Kali comes a gripping new experience:

THE RETRIEVAL.
all your eggs are in one basket.

THIS WEDNESDAY.

Day 10

Still feeling sick, and Kali has finally consented to nap, so I'll be very brief:

Lining: 0.9
Follicles: 15 of them, smallest is 1.0 and largest is 1.9. There are a bunch of smaller ones, too

I go back on Sunday for more monitoring. In the meantime, I'm to stick with the orgalutran and puregon.

Off to bed now. Happy Friday.