Hiatus.

I took a hiatus from the blog, sorry.  Things have been crazy.  I was really frustrated- I went to the doctor and he did an ultrasound, but the follicules were too small.  So I scheduled my next appointment.  The lady initially suggested Monday, but I reminded her it was a holiday, so she pushed me to Thursday.  I even asked, well, is that ok in terms of timing? If the doctor wanted to see me on Monday, wouldn't Tuesday be more prudent? But she insisted on Thursday.

We went in on Thursday and my follicules, while big enough, were now oddly shaped.  My doctor said that this is either a sign that I already ovulated, or a sign that there is something else... He wouldn't elaborate on the something else. 

Needless to say, I'm super upset because had I gone in on Tuesday, I wouldn't have missed the ovulation.

Anyway, I took the trigger shot just in case, and we BD accordingly. 

Then Saturday I had to go to a baby shower, which makes the 1,000,000 this year. 

Anyway, now I am in the midst of the two week wait.  Again.  I hate this phase.

My husband and I had planned on doing three months of femara with timed intercourse.  Then we'd move onto IUI for at least 3 months, and then and only then would we look at invitro.  I just wish my body would cooperate and get pregnant already.

Sorry, I promise the next post will be more upbeat, but if I'm keeping it real, today and this past week has really sucked.

I love being thick.

Well, at least having a thick lining- which I do today- 9 mm! My follicules are slightly small, with the largest one around 14mm.  We were sent home and ordered to have date night tomorrow night.  Saturday I'll get the HSG shot and then we'll try again on Sunday.

I have a good feeling about this cycle.  Keep your fingers crossed!

Sisters.

I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend- and hopefully it was a long one!  I had a good time, although my husband ended up working the entire time- I swear he's going to burn out.  My sister F came from Canada, and we had a good time together. 

I picked her up from the airport, and on the way back home she just said so many wrong things.  She doesn't mean to, I'm sure she's supportive and loving, but her comments just really stung.  She would continually bring up babies, and how "oh, so and so hasn't been able to get pregnant, maybe that's a sign she shouldn't be a mother."  "Oh, I completely forgot so and so was pregnant, but it's not really theirs, so it doesn't really count."  And "DH and I are thinking of having another kid- since the last one was an accident, we have the chance to actually time this one the way we want!"

I just kept quiet and continued to drive.  She knows I've been trying for so long to get pregnant, so I'm not sure why she would be so insensitive.  My sister has been known to be overly competitive.  My oldest sister got engaged, and F had to beat her to the alter.  That marriage didn't last.  Then 8 years later I got engaged, and F again had to beat me to the alter.  My eldest sister had a lot of trouble conceiving, and as soon as my sister F found out, she "accidentally" ended up pregnant.

She has a lot of issues she needs to work out, and normally they don't bother me- I'm pretty secure in where I am in life and happy with what I've accomplished.  But those comments really upset me.

I just drove her to my Mom's house and went home- where I found a bowl of Hagen Daaz vanilla bean ice cream, prepared for me by my husband (who I had called upset once I had dropped off F). 

The next day my sister apologized, so I suppose she understood her comments were out of line.  I forgave her- I always forgive her.  She is, after all, my sister.

Like Water for Chocolate.

I'm in a book club, and it's a lot of fun.  It's a bunch of girls and we all get together and drink wine and discuss the book we've selected for the month.

One of the girls is pregnant, and the book club decided that the next meeting should be a surprise baby shower for her.  I suppose I knew this was coming, but I didn't really think about it.  Anyway, as they were planning the shower, someone mentioned that I am a talented baker and had made some friends' wedding cakes- so they asked me to make the cake for the shower. 

Images from Like Water for Chocolate came to mind- you know, the scene where she cries into the wedding cake she is preparing for her lover who is marrying someone else.  All the guests eat the cake and begin crying, feeling the same sense of loneliness and unhappiness. 

I imagined crying into my cake, and wondered if anyone would feel my sense of loss over IF.  This was just  a quick thought, quickly brushed away.

But then I really began to think- I love baking.  I love it more than I love the practice of law.  I could bake for hours and hours and it never gets old.  I like the structure, the creativity and the expression on people's faces when they eat something I've baked.  As an attorney, usually when people talk to me it's because something has happened and they would rather not know me.  I once had a very nice client, who told me, very honestly, at the end of her case, "you are a great person, and I hope I never have to see you again."  I get that- nobody likes lawyers.  But baking is different- it's accepted with gratitude.  It's an escape from reality for me.

What if I get stuck baking for events that somewhat hurt me- like baby showers? Will that taint the fun part of baking for me? God I hope not.   The mother to be loves cheesecake- and there's really no talent required to bake cheesecakes.  I bake cakes that are multiple layers, with different types of meringues and sauces.  I'm sure my cakes would be devoured- so I have to make a choice.  Bake the cake for me, or for her?  One thought is to bake my own cakes, and make cake pops with cheesecake.  That way, I can wrap them and they can be like favors.  Everyone loves cake pops now.

Oh well, now I'm rambling.   I hope you all have a great day.

Tired.

I don't have enough energy to write a full post.  I didn't get much sleep last night, I have to meet a client this morning, and a side effect of Femara is fatigue- and I'm feeling it.  Anyway, I was thinking about the movie Up this morning.  Have you seen it? It's a great movie, and it has a poignant scene dealing with IF.  If you haven't seen it, check it out.

Here's a shot from the IF scene- it portrays the emotions so well, despite being a cartoon/animated.

Another Day, Another Drug.

So I went back to the doctors on Monday, after Aunt Flow decided to visit on Saturday.  We did an ultrasound and he wanted to prescribe me a different medicine to help with ovulation.  Apparently my uterine lining was thin while on Clomid, so he wanted to try something else.  He laid out my options, and I felt a little pressured to go with injections and IUI.  I don't want to do that- I want to take things a bit more gradually so that I know I've tried everything possible before moving on to in vitro.  So, I selected oral medications, with an HSG shot and timed sex.  My doctor seemed a bit disappointed- which annoyed me.  I think he makes more money with the more expensive treatments.

Anyhow, he prescribed me Letrozole, or Femara.  It's a breast cancer drug, and one of it's off-label uses is to increase ovulation, with no side effect to the uterine label.  I went home and researched the drug- apparently a Canadian study found that the use of Letrozole can significantly increase birth defects.  Ugh.  But a lot of doctors discount this study as being poorly done.  Also, I can't figure out if the birth defect increase happens if a pregnant woman takes Letrozole, or if a woman is on Letrozole before getting pregnant.  The half life of Letrozole is much less than Clomid, so theoretically it should be pretty much gone by the time we need to have timed sex.  There are just so many questions.

I didn't have any crazy side effects with clomid- although I've been unable to focus at work, and wonder if that's related.  I'm hoping I don't go crazy with this drug either.

Well, that's it for today.  Hope you all are doing well.

Losing Weight.

When we first met our doctor, he suggested I try to lose some weight. I'm pretty tall, and for most of my life was an average size.  A few years ago I was diagnosed with a rare form of tumor in my cochlear, which caused me to go deaf in one ear.  For some reason I sought food as comfort and it was showing.  The doctor was right, I needed to lose some weight.  I wasn't super morbidly obese or anything, but like most Americans, I was "plump."

So, I joined weight watchers.  I've lost 16.5 pounds but I had hit a plateau.  I continued to eat well, but the scale just wasn't moving.  Last night it hit me- if I want a baby as bad as I do, why would I not be exercising to speed up the weight loss?

I hate exercising.  Gyms aren't my thing.  I don't know why- perhaps it's because I see them as a meat market- where men check out the women who are wearing makeup and skin tight clothes.  I'm not one of those girls.  I sweat, a lot.  I also wear sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt, no lycra for this gal.  As a result, I've really avoided the gym.

I am a member of a really nice gym next to my work.  It's a great gym- with a rock wall, they give you clean towels, there's never a weight for machines, it has a pool, a very nice sauna for women, steam room, etc.  But I never go.  I have thought about cancelling more than a few times, but I never do it because I think one day I'll start.

But today I got up very early (well, I had to, to take my mom to the airport- she's going to eastern Europe).  Then right afterwards, I hit up the gym.  I walked on the treadmill for 30 minutes.  Not much, considering I go on a nightly walk for longer.  But I did it at a faster pace.  Then I followed up with 30 minutes of strength training focusing on my legs.

I want to be pregnant, so I better be willing to do exactly what the doctor tells me- and if that's lose weight, then I'll do it.