Monday, October 31, 2005

Screeching Stop?

I noticed something this morning.

1) I have been sleeping like a baby the past week or so. I used to stay awake thinking about babies, IVF, drugs (fertility type), dosages (again fertility type) and when my period is going to arrive so I can start a new cycle. But no. Not this past week.
2) I have COMPLETELY stopped charting my temperatures. The two thermometers (I have one duty and one standby) have been collecting dust doing bugger all.
3) I don't really give a shit about when my period is going to here. Although I secretly wish it's here, but if it never comes then fuck it.

I have been, actually, living like a normal human being.

Mom said: `You just look after yourself, if there are not going to be any kids, then let it be.'
Sister L said: `Hunnie think about adoption - you have so much love to give and it does not necessarily need to be your own!'
Bitchy sister in law said (and during a buffet, unfair I'd say): `Are you expecting? Your stomach's huge! Have you FINALLY got good news for us?'
Woman's Day said: `Mary's little prince!'
Cosmopolitan said: `Look fabulous in 7 days with new butt-tightening technique'
WHO said: `Hollywood Baby-Boom!!!'

Ha - who to listen when there are so many wise people out there?

I say listen to my heart.

Friday, October 28, 2005

Celebrity Breeding - Part XVII

Am partially glad that finally we are getting more pregnancy news on celebrities who don't induce nausea if I ever see them on gossip magazine covers.

First up - the very lovely Brooke Shield, whom I've heard battled for years to have a baby. She left Andre Agassi, then moved on to a new hubby, finally got pregnant, and then suffered post-natal depression. Well done Brooke on getting pregnant, naturally or not, at 40. Fuck yeah.

Then it was Aussie actress Claudia Karvan. I used to love her to bits because she is such a humble person and incredible actress. I am however a little jealous that she managed to have her acting career down-pat and be a mother at the same time. Damn lucky.

The third piece of pregnancy news is a novelty one. Because she is a bit of a novelty herself. It is Geri Halliwell - a.k.a. Ginger Spice. She struggled with her weight and singing career for years, probably drugged out of her head when she was involved with a string of boy band singers, became a yoga-zen-like spoke person promoting yoga and her fine figure, became an alcoholic/addicted to painkillers and at the same time secretly bulumic. Finally she is at ease with her natural weight, suffered shitty singing career, and fell pregnant. What more can you ask for? She bedded Robbie Williams and now have a baby (two events unrelated).

Sigh...well good for these women. Really. I really am happy for them.

I wrote a long blog about my thoughts on adoption yesterday. Something about wanting to end this IVF misery and be happy. And would like to explore the adoption option. Then, as art imitating life, I put that blog on-hold and saved it as draft.

Today I feel different. I watched a real life caesarean delivery on TV last night - the cutting of flesh and the sight of blood did not gross me out at all - in fact I was totally intrigued and the next thing you know I was crying - it was as if I was the one giving birth to the baby. I saw the baby emerged from her mother's uterus and it was the most amazing thing I have ever seen. The baby girl came out all agitated and shocked, and started to cry for her life.

The crying was the sweetest thing I have ever heard.

I then looked over to where Apeman was sitting, he was watching it too and I saw tears in his eyes.

This infertility journey, at times downright shitty and unforgiving, is definitely worth fighting for.

Monday, October 24, 2005

Maintaining A Fabulous Self

During IVF off-season - I do what I feel is best for my body, mind and soul - and that is to go shopping.

It was a rather numbing experience. Friday night I went for quiet drink with work people, a rare occasion for me because I usually `go home and rest' during `trying to conceive' period. So when things go to shit - I go social drinking and do what normal 31 year old women do and live the `carefree' life. I think.

I had my one-off bourbon and coke, left the half drunk crowd to their own demise, and off I went.

I tipsyly dropped into some shops, and tried on everything that looked remotely appealing. Didn't end up buying alot, just a few tops for work, but the idea of draping myself in beautiful clothing and model them in front of the change room mirrors seemed appealing at the time.

So as I indulged in a little self love (ooh Drew, that's hot. Oh that actually makes your bum looked a little tighter. You're hot, HOT HOT!), I briefly forgot about that IVF mess last week. I wanted more.

So I walked out of one of the change rooms, and demanded to try a ridculous shift/cloth/drapey item I had on at the time in a smaller size, and was in smack-bang confrontation with my work friend and his wife, who announced they were three months
on the day I found out about my 9th IVF failure. Suddenly my big band parade came crashing down. It sucked.

I said my hellos. She's totally lovely, she said I looked good in that drapey/shift cloth item, and she looked beautifully pregnant. He - who usually by this time on a friday night should be relatively shitfaced at the pub with my other alcoholic workmates, is dutifully playing the future dad and was escorting his pregnant missus in and out of expensive boutiques like a gay designer or sort.

Well - the whole thing sucked for maybe fifteen minutes. Then it was a lonely walk back to the car and a quiet drive home. Apeman had gone hunting/doing things for the house. It was a lonely night, but I reminded myself things could've been a lot worse - so might as well enjoy life whilst I can still afford to.

And then I am going to face my IVF demon once again. Only when I am good and ready.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

The Puregon Twilight Zone

Read on, this is funny.

Oh god. I think I am about to laugh. Hope it is not going to be one of those senile/crazy laughs/fits. Like Tom Cruise did when Katie said she's 6 months pregnant.

So after two weeks of consistently jabbing myself with Puregon, until we discovered this morning that hey, I think we are running out of non-bruised area as injection sites, my estrogen has descended from a promising (PROMISING?) 145 to 102 as of this morning.

My ovaries have well and trully said a big FUCK YOU.

Now, as I numbly sit here in front of mountains and mountains of equipment datasheets and simulation results, I wonder, WHERE EXACTLY DID THE PUREGON GO?

Did it:

1) Somehow gets trasferred through the bloodstream in my stomach and flies straight to the bladder, without any form of absorption - and was pissed out as soon as it was injected.
2) Apeman didn't twist the Puregon injection nozzle properly so I ACTUALLY didn't receive any fertility drugs. He was playing make-believe with me. He doctor me nurse.
3) The tubs of Puregon I received from the clinic was in fact, bless me, Holy Water. You may think it has amazing fertility powers but it really is only tap water.
4) The blood test results weren't mine. They fucked it up consistently three times in a row.
5) I imagined the whole thing. What IVF cycle?

The ovaries stopped hurting two days ago. It feels a little lumpy due to the monstrous amounts of follciles I produced but none of them grew to maturity - which explains the 102 estrogen today.

I was told by the fertility clinic to use my friend trigger tonight, that will sort out the little cysts and follicles. The cycle is cancelled and we will treat this coming Sunday as Day 1 again. And then we will start injecting. Again.

Honestly fuck that.

Is anyone paying attention here?

I couldn't raise my estrogen last week, not this week, how can you promise me it is going to raise next week or even the week after that? Is that Puregon stuff bad for my ovaries? Did it fuck up my hormones? Did my ovary grew back because of Puregon?

Is there a God?

Do I feel like crying today? actually. I am not even that angry today. Not even remotely disappointed.

I feel nothing today.

I feel nothing because as I told Apeman last night, for the past five years I had the same habit of waking up at 5:50am on specific days just so I can be one of the early birds at the clinic. I get my blood tested, I get my meds, I whinged a little to the coordinator, sometimes if I'm blessed I get an ultrasound, and some days when I am really blessed - I actually have a bed reserved for me for transfers or egg collection.

It's becoming a routine. I feel nothing. None of it hurts anymore. Fuck you.

Am just tired. So tired I don't even know when it is appropriate to cry.

I told somebody at work yesterday that I don't like children. That's why I have a dog because I don't like children. That was to stop him from telling me about his 2 year old who likes to pick up the phone and talk to telemarketers and call that person daddy.

Sigh... now I have the Danish royal family portriat to look forward to.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Go Natural - Go Yoghurt Way

Yup. Estrogen didn't even climb after almost two weeks of Puregon jabbing. There are lots of little follicles but none mature enough to get an ovulation happening. There is a thick enough endometrium but probably no use if I don't ovulate. The instruction was to bump the current dosage up to double - and keep going for a few more days.

Fuck that.

I just made an appointment today to see my surgeon. I want to look into getting the smaller ovary removed. Again. The moment it came back it seems my body has lost the will to ovulate and be normal.

I don't know if I am being irrational here. But who cares. At the moment the only person who has to live in this body of mine, and knows enough to care about what is happening to it - is myself. The clinic nurse was a little too busy to tell me my blood levels today - she said it was low - that's all. I said how low, what are they. She sounded a little agitated when she told me about them - as if I was wasting her time because what would I know? I am only the infertility patient.

I think after five years of having regular bloods done I qualify to receive my blood test results. I didn't give all that blood out for no reason.

Yes today I am agitated. I am agitated because I am tired. I am tired because I feel cheated. I feel cheated because my body doesn't work and when I try to fix it, it turns more tricks and creates even more problems so I feel fucked - constantly.

I am not Mary Future Queen of Denmark and can churn out an heir to the Danish throne on demand. I am incapable of doing that. I don't know how to feel but since finding out her good news I must be the unhappiest Australian in Australia who don't really feel like celebrating or finding out the exact dimensions of her son. I don't see why we need to send her a gift of a pair of Tasmanian Devils because Drew here can't even fucking ovulate like the majority of the Australian population.

Just to show how agitated I am, and how sick, and fucking tired I am trying to conceive like normal people, I choose to rebel and not listen to the clinic. Am sticking with my low dose Puregon (instead of the instructed double dose) until Thursday's blood test. If they tell me nothing is happening, then I will pack up, go home and get ready for Christmas.

I just want to be happy. I am tired of fighting with my ovaries.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

A Little Conversation Between Me and My Ovary(s)

This morning....

Me: Ouch, that hurts.
Dianna: Ha. Fuck you for jabbing yourself with fertility drugs.
Me: Well you hurt like hell last month and we didn't ovulate did we? I thought we were going to because you seemed to be doing so much work ...
Dianna: Well you can't have everything. You got Deirdre back last month and she thinks you're a bitch for cutting her off.
Me: WELL I don't want HER back do I?
Deirdre: Fuck you - and can you feel that? That's me jabbing you on your lower back.
Me: Can I please... I beg of you two....your ovulate for me this month. I just need a little estrogen rise to get a cycle going. Please? I pray to you?? Anyone of you?? My stomach is black and blue because some bitch jabbed it real hard last week and it's getting pretty sore. I really hate Puregon, you know that. Can we please? ...
Dianna: Fuck you.
Deirdre: Yeah fuck you.

And here I am.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Life Is What Happens To You When You're....

Yeah yeah. As the song goes - whilst you are busy making other plans, grieving, hoopla-ing about night sweats and hot flashes, being thumped in the head at regular fifteen minute intervals by non-human-male boss who is more worried about gas dispersion problems in a remote mine-site in the middle of whoop whoop than your life-long fertility quest.

I just realise I haven't been doing my temperatures for the last three weeks.

It was almost a three year non-breakable habit. First thing first, if Apeman wants a hug/sex in the the morning, it's a definite NO until I take my body temperature. I don't want his body heat (or body on heat) to contaminate my basal body temperature. Nooo siree. Temperature first.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeep.
Ooh. 36.9°C. What does that mean? Hormonal fluctuation? Egg release? Possible cystation occuring in the bottom half of right ovary?

And then I will obsess about this stupid little number for the duration of my car ride to work.

Well thank fucking goodness that I have temporarily abandoned this habit of mine. Because it really is making me insane.

Since grandpa's sickness and untimely death, (sigh...he was meant to be around when I present him with his great-grandchild), I have gone easy on my fertility quest. It's like I am not thinking about getting pregnant ALL THE TIME. I actually focused momentarily on other things in life, such as grandmama's happiness, Apeman's eating habits, my dog's skin problem, and to plan a nice holiday during christmas so me and Apeman can run free and relax - enjoy life like normal people.

Not sure if this is a good thing. Maybe it's a sign from Grandpa, maybe this is his way of telling me there are other things in life to worry about apart from having a baby. I just wish the rest of the world (ie. Apeman's relatives) understands that too.

And on that note. This week's New Idea once again glorifies my favourite tennis couple - please throw in your four bucks and look inside for this week's exclusive story on Bec and Lleyton's secret baby heartache! I didn't even border to stop and check out the magazine. It is likely to be something daft like - oh my god they are not getting the baby girl they have always (the 8 months they have known each other?) dreamed of - they are, and we know that for a fact because it is an exlcusive, getting a boy who is going to grow up to look and play tennis just like daddy! Hurray!


Oh my god Bec gained a humanly possible 4 pounds as a result of the pregnancy and is going to be named Australia's fattest ex-soap-actress! Tragedy!!!!

Am sure nothing is tragically wrong with her pregnancy and baby. And even if so, I don't want to read about it either.

Saturday, October 08, 2005

I'm Back

I actually wrote another really angry post the other day, but thankfully the computer crashed on me because I was trying to run a 54MB simulation at the same time.

Am fine, after my hissy fit, I got my period next day.

Last few days been really numb that's all, I really miss my Grandpa.

Had a blood test in hope for some answers regarding to the night sweats and hot flashes only to be told I am `normal'. Hormones are at base line and we are okay to start another cycle. FSH levels are fine, in fact they are pretty okay. So looks like I still have a decent reserve of eggs and not menapausal as per my ramblings last time. I do believe those crazy hormones and behaviour earlier on this week were the result of PMS. I was severely PMS - and together with the loss of Grandpa probably sent me off the edge.

Am okay now. Only just. Had headache all day yesterday and was a little cranky.

Oh I also got a letter from the ultrasound dude, it was in the form of a letter, results are loosely like this:

Drew had a history of endometriosis. (Derr!)
Ultrasound indicated there are two ovaries (It's a miracle Doc, a miracle.) , the left one is significantly smaller than the right, possibliy a remnant as a result of previous surgery, measured at 17mm x 15mm. Right ovary is slightly dense (slightly dense???) and appeared enlarged with no other indications of PCOS. (So is it or is it not PCOS? I thought you said it was?)
HSG was conducted without difficulty (well I had some difficulty holding the pose without screaming rape or civilian torture), fluid was seen passing through the right fallopian tube without difficulty. No fluid passes through the left tube. (What left tube?)
Uterine thickness 9mm, uterine cavity appeared normal with no pathological symptoms.

So there. Another normal report with no real explanation as to why I am still the walking contraceptive I claimed to be.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

No Mood For A Decent Title Today

So I had the same old hot sweats last night. And then throughout today, the occasional hot flashes (ie. sudden rush of body heat, I felt really hot and suddenly want to remove all items of clothing).

The so called period stopped this afternoon. It wasn't really a period, just heavy spotting. I spent all day sitting on an empty pad - (well, not one, but two, I changed midday due to hygiene reasons).

How do I feel?

Well, I feel crap in general. Feels like I was dragged all over a bowl of white batter, then left to drain off, then put into hot oil for frying. I then come out all crispy and burnt. I felt used, tired and extremely, extremely agitated. And on top of that some creepy old bastard I work with who occasionally and `accidentally' calls me by his `ex-girlfriend's' name - keeps walking past my desk today and giving me a creepy sneer. I really want to say fuck off you old bastard and go pay someone so you can get laid but I couldn't really. I would like to keep this job.

If this hormone thing gets me heated enough I will surely report him to the manager. I'd say I don't like the way he looks at me, and I don't like to be called the same name his ex-girlfriend has. I have had enough.

I feel like shit and wanted to go home and have a cry. I miss my grandpa and grandma.

I want to call my surgeon up and ask him to please kindly remove all reproductive organs within myself, all imaginary parts, all real parts, and all parts that grow back despite previous removal. So I won't have to live through this life of mine, month after month, wondering both silently and aloud if I have ovulated and if it was a good ovulation, and if I didn't ovulate what actually happened and what is my FSH today and was the problem due to PCOS, endometriosis, pituary disfunction, cysts, adhesions, progesterone deficiency, early menopause, divine intervention or something much more scarier.

Five years.

I spent my twenties fucking around with (or being fucked by) fertility clinics and doctors and fertility related websites.

I am just tired today. Also I read the MSN news that Nicolas Cage's 19 year old Korean waitress wife he married last year has just given birth to a baby boy, he named the baby after a superman character.

In the mean time, I am going to try and hold on to my marbles, sit tight and wait for tomorrow's blood test at the clinic to see if the `period' I had to today is a real period. I would like to start another cycle straight away before this pathetic fertility ship of mine starts to sink.

And fuck you Nicolas Cage for calling your baby Kal-el Cage. Hollywood should prevent knobheads like him from reproducing if they are going to keep giving their children stupid names so they can be made fun of when they go to high school.

Monday, October 03, 2005

A Bleed Is As Good As Anything

Didn't sleep well last night for obvious reasons (grandpa's passing, thinking about poor grandma and how she's coping).

Woke up around 2pm and went for a pee. And realised, Shock! Horror! I am having night sweats. My PJ's were soaked.


My new and improved lifestyle in honour of Grandpa will probably think this is nothing. Just nightsweats as a result of a very stressful day. Pffft.

My old pessimistic self is screaming OH HOLY FUCK I AM GOING INTO EARLY MENOPAUSE!!!!

I am going to treat it as nothing, will see if it happens again tonight. Am stressing but also trying to stay calm.

Woke up this morning and felt like my right ovary is about to explode. It really is PCOS. It feels really lumpy and painful. And the new ovary on the left is definitely stuck high up my lower back. Fucking Deirdre.

Then halfway through the day I see blood on my knickers. Today is Day 30 and I haven't even ovulated yet according to the ultrasound last wednesday.

Again, my new and improved lifestyle in honour of Grandpa will think it is probably my period - hack, it's been 30 days hasn't it? So yeah you should have a period right about now. So there you go. TAKE THAT Libra Fluer.


My old pessimistic self is screaming (*in a high pitched girlie voice*) oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck - it's mid-cycle spotting, I am spotting again. Oh all the surgeries, all the ovary cutting, all the cathether inserting, all the learning how to walk again amounts to nothing. I am back to old self. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

Let's just hope that I only broke into a sweat last night because I was having bad dreams, and I am about to have a period so that's why I am spotting today.

Pretty please?

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Goodbye Grandpa

After a week spent lying in a hospital - and exactly one week since he was given two days to live - my grandpa passed on this morning in the presence of his immediate family.

Cancer took him away. I'd never imagine the power and frightfulness of cancer, but I see it for myself for the first time.

It came, it conquered, and it took my grandpa with him in a matter of weeks. But my grandpa died a happy man - he was able to talk to each and everyone of us before he looses consciousness, the cancer impaired his speech but he managed to held on to my grandma really tight a couple of days ago, telling her he will miss her the most. Then he lapsed into semi-consciousness, then to deep sleep, then death came this morning.

I cannot imagine a better way to go -warm in a bed surrounded by loved ones.

I hope today, will be the last day I view life as a pessimist. I am going to face life as it is and take each day as it comes. Because if there is one thing I take with me today as a result of my grandpa's passing, is to live for today and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. That's his favourite line.

Oh and I sure will have a glass of whisky in his honour this week to celebrate his life.