You’re a mean one, Mrs. Grinch….

I don't look good green!

It is me or are all the BFP’s flying around driving you crazy too?

Being an active member on boards, forums, and life in general, it is hard not to notice when everyone around you is getting knocked up. Regardless of how the growing bundle of joy ended up in their welcoming uterus, I’m becoming annoyed.

I don’t mean to sound mean or bitter, I’m not. Heck, my own TTC journey has only be 2 months so far, which even if my DH had perfect swimmers, would be on the short end of trying. I guess my main emotion is plain old, ugly, jealousy. It may not be right, and I honestly am happy for these people I have gotten to know through the computer, and a few in real life, but I am also insanely jealous that their spawn will be popping out in nine, magical months. I have never been a patient person, and trying to have a baby is no different. To quote my favorite character from Willy Wonka, Veruca Salt, “I want it and I want it NOW!!!” (feel free to also insert temper tantrum here). I’m aware that everyone’s time will come, and mine will too, I just can’t help but get down sometimes.

For the most part, I handle my emotions pretty well. I stay busy at work, and now that my family and I will be moving in the next few weeks (right in the middle of my IVF protocol I might add) I haven’t had time to obsess about my future pregnancy as much as usual. But when everything slows down, and I am alone with my thoughts, all I can hear is my prayers for a baby and why can’t I be one of those lucky first timers?  I’d even settle for second timer and because my second cycle trying isn’t until September, I am holding out hope that I will be able to join that club!

Until then, I read the BFP posts, smile for their excitement, and wince a bit for myself. I’ve been trying to stay optimistic that this time, will be our time.

Other news….I am on my last week of BCP’s before the placebos’ and dreaded AF. BUT, then I get to start my stims!!! I can’t believe time has flown by so fast. I still have a few weeks until the procedures but everyday is one day closer to having my sticky beans put back inside for them to snuggle in!

I have my phone consult with the nurse on Monday, which I thought was a little late but because I am only on BCP’s I guess it really wasn’t necessary to have it sooner. After making the appointment a few weeks ago I have come up with a mile long list of questions that I am sure will take multiple hours to go through. My mom and DH have agreed to help me whittle them down to the important ones only (if you have not met me, you should know that in my crazy brain, they are ALL important!)

Aside from having crazy baby brain, things at home are uneasy as well. I don’t do well with change, or handling a multitude of topics at one time and it seems as though everyday something new is getting thrown at me. I told you about the move, but now that it is almost final (hey, at least we found a place to stay) reality is setting in. I have to start packing and cleaning all while working f/t, and taking mass amounts of hormones that could tranquillize an entire horse farm. Sounds fun right? I should just have moved in to the trash can with Oscar the Grouch because that is what I have been feeling like lately. I’m sure he’d be fun company.

As I mentioned earlier, this move will happen right in the middle of stims. My poor DH already knows I will be as useless while moving then sunscreen is at the Jersey Shore. That is because the doctor has already explained to me the following-

  • During stims, your ovaries enlarge to grapefruit size or larger
  • They are only held down by tiny blood vessels and tubes (fallopian)
  • Because of that, they move around a lot when they are that big and could twist, rupture with strenuous activity
  • They might even fall out…

(ok I lied about the last one)

This means, I can not lift, move, pull, or pack anything. While for most people, an automatic get out of move free card would be great, I am so OCD that I can’t figure out how that move with go on without me. No one can pack a box like me, or haul all of my clothes the proper way. At least that is what i have convinced myself. I’ve decided to be proactive and start packing this weekend so I don’t have to worry about it. Then, all DH will have to do is move the boxes, and I can point.

We will see how this works out….

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TWW, Heartbreak, Hope…


So my tww was not nearly as sane and relaxing as I had hoped for….

I found myself a crazed, obsessed, ball of emotions during week one of the dreaded tww. I could not concentrate on anything. Somehow I had lost all concentration at work, home, and became a nosy voyeur into other people’s experiences on the net. By day I was pretending to work while googling symptoms and reading forum posts. I peed on sticks. Crazy I know. I just pray that by the end of this journey, I am sane enough to actually keep my kid, haha. Bottom line – DH tried to keep me busy so he and I went out a lot that week, hence, no updates.

By the time the second week came around, I just wanted it to be over one way or the other. I was not very hopeful as I had been getting BFN after BFN since 8DPI (yes, I tested that early. Don’t judge.) In coming to the realization that the call about my beta results would play out more like a scene from a sad, Lifetime movie instead of Look Who’s Talking too, I was a sucky, hormonal mess. Add my neurotic OCD into the mix and 3 days before I even knew the answer I was on the crazy train, making my plan for next month, determined to get my shiny new baby. Every scenario played out perfectly in my mind.

When “beta day” arrived, so did my nerves. My stomach was doing flips, and I needed an answer. As anyone who has gone through this knows, it is a very emotional time. Luckily, the whole office treats you like family and instead of herding me back like cattle to be poked and prodded, the nurse kept me relaxed and gave me a hug. After the blood work, I went to speak to my RE. We shall call him…the baby maker. Because there is such little time between cycles to come up with a new plan, my clinic always suggests making an appointment with the baby maker asap. The meeting went well and I got the answer I wanted. Even my DH got invloved asking all kinds of funny questions like, “How often can we have sex…” “as much as your wife will let you”, says baby maker. Or my favorite, “Can my wife go to the water park at the end of the summer if we don’t take off this month?” “I’m sure she will be fine”, said the baby maker again. Ha. At least I got some good laughs, gotta love my DH and all his glory.

Back at work later that day I got a phone call from the nurse letting me know my beta was 6.7 and that I would have to come in again tomorrow for more blood work. I can tell you I would have been less shocked if Cher Justin Timberlake waltzed into my cubicle at that very moment. I couldn’t believe it and I admit, there was a part of me that was holding on to a little piece of light. The nurse explained because it was so low it was most likely a chemical pregnancy but could just be a late implanter, before she hung up. I, obviously, was hoping for the latter. With much trepidation, I told the DH, on the premise, don’t get your hopes up.

Fast forward to the next day and my beta was the same. Diagnosis – Chemical Pregnancy. I was a sad, but, at least I was preggo for like, a day. It’s a good thing I like to look on the bright side otherwise I would have been devastated. Everything happens for a reason so this is what I have come up with…

  • This was our first cycle TTC…and I got pregnant, Kinda.
  • Everything must be working in the good ‘ol uterus.
  • The first one is behind us so at least now we know what we are doing.
  • Our baby is going to be such perfection g-d couldn’t finish him/her in time.
  • At least now I can enjoy the rest of my summer worry free (for the most part)

So, ladies and gentleman, my first tww was a wild rollercoaster, and it felt like I was the only passenger without a seat belt. The tww can (and usually does) do crazy things to your mind, as well as everyone around you. You may not think you are being a hormonal bitch, but trust me, you are. I hope if you are reading this, you already have your BFP, or will very soon. As for DH and I, it seems as though we will be moving onto try #2, plan B.