Sunday, April 30, 2006


Sorry girls for not posting earlier. Everything went as well as can be - the reason why it took me so long to post again is because today (being Sunday) is the first day I can sit upright. I have a serious sore ass. More later on this rectally challenged issue.

Depending on which way you want to look at it - I am relatively happy to have 6 fertilised Ape-Drew nesting in the clinic. Hopefully there are still 6.

Told you they double accounted some of the follicles!

So initially I was told I have approximately 13 follicles in the making. After much fuss, much freaky business inside the theatre of egg collection, I woke up from sedation and asked the most important, mind shattering question: "Have you guys started (egg collection) yet?" . The answer is of course yes hunny, you are in recovery room. It's all over.

So how many eggs were there?



Oh what? That's not a bad number you know!

Well I thought I had more, I was half expecting 13 you know. (In the background I could hear a woman almost jumping over joy - if only she could stand with the drips still attached to her arm - that they collected 14 from her. 7 from each side).

Later when Apeman finally returned to my bedside, after a side trip made to the porn room (hey they have DVD's you know! - said the Apeman), and a brief return to his office, he recounted to me how the doctor was a bit reluctant to retrieve more follicles from me. I said oh why not! He said the doc reckons your other follicles weren't mature enough. The good thing was all 8 follicles collected were Grade 1 Drew-clan. I feel blessed already.

I spent all day friday and saturday in pain. Full on rectal bowel pain. When I was in the recovery room I was asked if I am sore. I said yeah I am pretty fucking sore. Where sore? Oh the...the...bowels? They said the bowels? Yeah the bowels. It wasn't until I was admitted into the day care patient quarters that I decided to shyly tell the nurse (with the nose-ring) that my ASS is sore. She giggled and said oh hunny you are allowed to say ASS here. I said yeah goody because my ASS is very, very sore. What in the hell did the doctor do to me in that room! I asked Apeman if he recalled any hard objects were shuffed rectally into me during the procedure. He said no. I said did you see the eggs?

`Yeah, they just look like round little things with a lot of pus around it'


Then on Saturday I got the call from the lab telling me 6 has fertilised with the Ape-sperm.


Yeah that's not a bad number you know. Considering one of the eggs out of the 8 are actually a little on the undercooked side (ie too small), so it really is 6 out of 7. Not a bad percentage. So do you want to go ahead with PGD? (It is not as good as my last fresh cycle, because I had 11 eggs collected and 9 fertilised, but the percentages look a lot better this time).

Yes please. I am happy to know there's six of me and Apeman joined together. A part of us.

And you know what they say - you only need one. I am not going to pray for anymore success, because I have done that before. I just hope there is a chance for me.

It's time for me to become a mommy.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

I wait for long time

Shoes for this cycle: The aquamarine floral flats by KEDS. They are cute, simple and sure-win with any outfits. I reckon anyway. I shall wear them in the delivery room if this IVF cycle works out.

After posting last night complaining about the lack of bloatiness and general fertility pains, I certainly paid for it. Fucking in PAIN all last night, so bad that it kept me awake most of the time. I didn't have the heart to wake Apeman up and tell him ALL about it. This morning I had to hobble to the toilet, once again grit my teeth so I can squeeze out as much pee as I can to relieve my internal organs.

The highlight of the day is the much anticipated vaginal probe and blood tests. Today is a good day. Only two attempts at the poor right arm, not too painful at all. I need to buy that right arm vein some flowers one day.

Ultrasound today shows:
LHS: Pretty much bugger-all, the ultrasound doc didn't think it was worth writing the sizes down. The follicles just didn't grow much - which is fine by me. I want my little ovary to have as little response as possible because that was the ovary of grief. No worries there.

RHS: I think there were 13. When I say I think it's because I suspect the doc might have double-accounted some of them. Like, how can you possibly tell you are not measuring one you have just measured before? It's like trying to count clouds, or beans, or whatever. The smallest one is 1.3, then there is a bunch of 1.6 - 2.0, another bunch of 2.1 to 2.6. Then there is the biggest one which measures at 2.8. I think that is a little too ripe for picking. I read somewhere (in the cyberspace) that eggs sharn't be too immature (ie. too small) or too mature (ie. too big). So all in all there's 13 likely prospects. Am going to get the big trigger needle in a couple of hours time. Collection on friday morning. Whooo-hoo to that. Overall the sizes for this cycle in comparison to my other fresh ones seems a little bigger on average.

Went home in tears because my right ovary was hurting so much, it wasn't tears of self-pity, it was tears of blinding pain. I was in real twisted pain at work trying to finish off this stupid report nobody wants to write. I should learn to say no more often.

I told Apeman he better get ready for some fertilisation loving on friday.

`You mean, like, I am going to spray (ejaculate, come) all over the petri dish?'

And I am going to propagate the Ape-clan with this man. It was a good laugh anyway, I know he was trying to make me laugh. It was a tough day and he knows this is a tough game.

Right now I am reading Belle de Jour's Diary of a London Call Girl. It's the second time I've read it. I don't think it is at all glamarous what she does (or did) for a living, but fair enough, it's still a job. She's a very infectious writer nevertheless. I am an underpaid engineer who gets fucked by the corporation I work for by taking less cut of my rate (in comparison to what I am charged out for) and does all the shitty work (ie. doing work you don't get credit for, and is manipulated into believing you are making a big contribution to the project, but somehow you just don't seem to be able to reap the rewards).

It's still prostitution in some ways I guess.

Anyway - egg collection friday.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

I am making this shit up

Oh yes - its all bollocks.

I made this entire cycle up. At least that's how I've been feeling the last two days anyway. I've been waking up in the morning to this intense FULL feeling, like I need to do a big dump, but I don't really. Pissing is a hideously painful excercise - so bad that I had to grit my teeth and go slowly everytime. I blame endometriosis again. Fucking disease.

I went to work the last few days with this foul fullness pain in my stomach. Then two days ago I started having this intense prickly pains in the breasts - not pre-menstrual type boob pains - but prickly, sharp jabs in all areas around the boobs every 10 minutes. My boobs suddenly seem to have filled out a bit (I have gone from an A-cup to a fuller A-cup). Apeman was quite excited about my new fuller boobs. He thinks I'm a porn star. Sickly. Anyway the bigger boobs are probably the result of Puregon jabs.

Then today I don't feel anything at all. No boob pains. Not much stomach fullness. It certainly doesn't feel like I am an egg farm. Very ordinary. I remember before I got onto this IVF ride six years ago, a lady at work told me she is about to embark on her first IVF cycle because they haven't had much luck for the past 18 months. She told me she was going to take the entire month off just to concentrate on IVF and give herself sufficient rest to cope with the process. I thought to myself, holy shit, this IVF business is SERIOUS! Then of course she goes and fall pregnant naturally - one week before she was to start IVF. She had a little girl and she looks absolutely beautiful.

I don't intend to take any time off this time - only a few days here and there to accomodate the procedures. But then of course somewhere during the two week wait I will fall off my bandwagon, quit my job and ramble in my blog something about blue skies and jesus juice and how I am never going to be mom in this lifetime...something like that.

But all that will only happen if I can get pass egg collection. Tomorrow going in for what I hope to be my last blood test before egg collection, and a final scan. I hope there is something in there for everyone - ie. eggs to collect from me, and a little more revenue for the clinic.

On a more upbeat note, today I inherited a beautiful antique diamond ring. It belonged to Apeman's grandmother who passed away a couple of weeks ago. I don't know much about diamonds (honestly!), but it looks pretty expensive. At her funeral I remembered I consoled Apeman saying something about what a wonderful life she's had - 10 children, 25 grandchildren and another dozen of great-grand children. I said to him I wish I have a life like his grandmother - to have such a large clan of loved ones and to be loved and cherished by so many.

And today I inherited a part of Apeman's grandma - I hope to rub off some of her luck and happiness, and create our own breed of Apekids. It's time to start a family of our own.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Some Egg Farm

Was at Coles today at the deli section waiting for my number to be called so I can buy some bacon and chicken. From the corner of my eye I saw a little boy making faces at me, I gave him a little cheeky wink. He smiled and went to his mother's side, she was possibly a woman my age (ie. early 30's), with a well-worn figure - even though she is quite slender herself, her stomach bulges out and appeared quite loose because afterall, she had five kids. Her smallest one was probably two years old, sucking on her thumb mumbling something about chicken or something. She looked at me, I smiled back. She smiled and then proceed to launch into a full-on verbal assault on her second oldest child - yelling at him to stop FUCKING around with the Coco-pops because she hasn't paid for it yet. And if he doesn't stop right this minute she will hurt him. Her children then ran mad around her trolley.

Unfortunately I had to stand there and watch because my number wasn't called yet, the mother looked at me again, I was pushing a trolley full of snacks, hair things, dessert things (all for Apeman except for the hair things), she looked a little beaten.

`Your little one is cute'. I found myself saying.
`Hmm thanks, yeah she's alright, thank God she's not saying much yet, you can have my older one if you want - see that one?' She was gesturing at the sandy haired boy who is now eating from the unpaid for Coco-pops.

If only she knows. The higher powers adpots some pretty weird logic.

Ultrasound indicated I have 5 growing follicles, and maybe another 5 that is on they way up - all from the good ovary (well done Diana). There's another 4 little ones on the smaller ovary but it is only really small (on ya Dierdre). Estrogen climbing nicely at 1500 yesterday. The clinic reckons I should be looking at egg collection next friday. Then it will be the moment of truth.

To the mothers out there with lots of children (ie. more than 2) - I salute you. Tough job, but I must say, great rewards.

Day 8 today. Bring it on.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

I hope

Today, in my mind, I see a baby girl with a mop of dark hair like me. 

Big almond shaped eyes, cute cupid bow lips, no dimples, but thick eyebrows like Apeman (she can always pluck those when she’s older).

She is a stubborn little girl, bit like her mother, very much like her father, so stubborn that her hair literally stands up straight.  Her grandma marvels at how much she looks like me when I was a baby.

She has chubby cheeks, with a little rosy tint, a little dry from the weather, fingers are short – like her father, and when she finally sleeps she sleep not too soundly, she shivers as she is having a very exciting dream, in her sweet dream she was chasing a golden retriever puppy, a puppy her dad got for her as a birth present because he wants to raise her without fear towards animals.  She is going to grow up and tell her friends in kindergarten that she has an older brother, and he is a golden retriever. 

Day 6 today.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

And it's bleeding...

So the first sign of bleeding showed up on thursday, friday came the faint red river flow, then it was Saturday. Day 1.

Easter Saturday was a bit of bollocks. I went to the clinic to get my `Day 1' blood test. I thought I was cute for showing up earlier than expected for a Saturday, only to discover another 30 or so women had the same idea. They were all waiting patiently as the under-staffed clinic tried to cramp as much blood taking they can in two hours. I wasn't too fussed - waiting in a cramped room with crampy women reading well-read magazines is like a walk in the park these days. What's new.

An hour later my name was called. And after three attempts I was told all veins have collapsed and I was to wait for another 10 minutes and get myself a coffee for hydration. Fuck. Well I guess it's better than let's have a look at your feet to see if we have anything there.

For some reason I was feeling sad after all that jabbing and probing around under the skin. Just plain sad. This would've been piss easy for me and I would've taken it in the chin like any other day. But for some reason that day I just felt like plain shit. I walked out of the clinic (en route to the coffee machine) crying. Pathetically crying. Sob sob sob sob sob crying. And worse still, as I walked out of the clinic I saw a man (who was about to walk INTO the clinic) eyeing me up and down. Yeah thanks.

I think I was feeling vulernable. I really fucking hate blood tests. Anyhow everything is okay. At base line on saturday and on sunday I was allowed to start my injections. I want to grow big big big eggs. Please.

I signed all the papers - everything from the `Yes please I want to be wheeled into an operating theatre' to the `Yes please use the new government non-approved fluid to grow my embryos' to the `Yes please use my eggs or any genetic material extracted from me or my husband'.

I don't even know what to say. I want to be a mommy so incredibly bad. I was holding my sister in law's baby girl on the weekend and saw how much she looks like Apeman's brother. I want a little girl with big brown eyes who calls Apeman daddy, and hug him until she falls asleep and breathes her baby breathe.

I am going to take this one day at a time. Today is Day 4.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Easter Wishing

There are days when you think to yourself, oh wouldn’t it be nice to get knocked up naturally, your period never comes and you get tested positive for pregnancy.  Especially a week before you were meant to start an IVF cycle.  Oh the cliché!

But no.  Mine’s here, exactly 14 days since ovulation.  No surprises for me – it’s like I don’t even dare to think it may happen to me.  Sigh.

Sometimes I like to read up on other people’s success IVF stories just so I can psyche myself for the excitement of a fresh cycle.

But I am not in the mood for it today.  I better in better mood next week because I am going to need it.  Somebody said to me today the whole bollock of IVF process is like rolling a dice – you have to keep rolling and eventually your number will be up soon.  Well my hands are getting really tired.

And congratulations Panda!  Well done you sparkly, sparkly gur-fren.

Happy Easter everybody!


Wednesday, April 05, 2006


As I eagerly awaits for the Divine Panda to experience the ultimate experience in life (ha), I went for a blood test this morning just to confirm I did indeed ovulate and can start down-regulation for my fresh cycle this month.

Was quietly sitting in the blood room on a blood chair waiting for the blood nurse to fetch my blood file, I overheard next door's conversation.

"You got all your meds for this cycle?"

"Oh yes"

"Is this your first cycle?"

"Oh yes"

"Right, so this must be all new to you, so can I have your date of birth please?" (Assuming it was meant for Medicare related purposes)


I snorted (quietly and discreetly of course).  Doesn't 1984, make her, like, 21 years old?  What is she doing here?  She should be out in the sun, dancing, bearing midriff lining up outside a nightclub waiting to get in, experience assorted hallucination drugs, join the Greenpeace, learn how to break-dance, get a degree, anything.  Anything but strapped willingly to a blood chair waiting to check her hormones to start a gruesome IVF cycle.  It was ludicrous.  When I was 21 I didn't even know I have two ovaries.

But once my selfish-I-do-IVF-so-leave-me-alone self recovered from that little titbit of information, I reasoned with myself that IVF is for everybody who wants to start a family - even if it means you are 21 (or 14).  But then again even if I had the knowledge when I was 21 that I am infertile, I still won't go through IVF at such a young age.  No-fucking-way.

And on that note – things are looking good hormonally and we are due for a start when the witch shows up in a week or so.  Bring on egg collection.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Wishful thinking

It was Sunday morning, me and Apeman managed to drag ourselves out of bed early (ie. 8am) and went for a drive to a not so local nursery (plants type) to buy some plants.  We want to beautify the garden.

Ape:  “Want a coffee?”

Me:  “Yeah why not.”

So he took a left turn and we were at McDonald’s drive through – and placed an order for one of new Macca’s brewed coffee.  It tasted like crap but hey, it’s decent enough to keep us awake.  We didn’t buy two coffees – we bought one cup.  We always share one of everything ever since we were both 20. 

As we were taking turns to sip the coffee, I made a comment about not being able to do what we’re doing if we have children.  ie.  We can’t just drive off in the morning and do whatever we want if we have a baby in the house.  He said yeah.  But it will be nice if we have a baby won’t it? 

So there I was, trying to make our bleak situation as beautiful as possible. 

There is a guy here whom I work with.  He just couldn’t stop talking, it is as if he is possessed by some demon and all he talks about is his wife, house and mortgage.  So today, against my will, even before I was allowed to go and get my coffee, he went on about his big plans.  He wants his mortgage repayments to be reduced to $200 a month first, then his wife shall become pregnant, then the next nine months will be spent on renovating his house and maybe put in an extension for a few rooms for his unborn children, his wife will then quit her job and they will live on a single salary for the next three years until his wife returns to the workforce.  I was losing interest in his waffling, partially because he is so dull and boring and talks about himself all the time, and partially because I get annoyed when people talk about having children as if they can control when and where that will happen.  Because this is one of the things I no longer have control of and even if it happens it will be nothing short of a miracle.  If it happens I will worship whichever God and run down the road naked because I will be so blinded by happiness.  It is just something this workmate of mine will never understand because the chances are all those things he mentioned will happen to him at the time he said it will.

I need a new workstation.  Or a new job.