So I peed on lots of things over the weekend. You know…as one does.
I got the first positive on Friday, 7 days post 5 day transfer. It got progressively darker so I was happy.
Monday’s beta at 10dp5dt was 326. I was very happy with that number. I considered Hurdle 1 to be making it to today and the follow up beta at 12dp5dt. I was keeping my fingers crossed for somewhere in the 650 range. It came back at 977! Like… holy shit. My progesterone is 25, and the RE was happy with it.
Next step is to go back for one more blood draw next week. If numbers still look ok, we wait another week for an ultrasound to find a blob and a possible heartbeat. But I’m just concentrating on breathing until next Wednesday’s blood test.
I don’t know how the fertile people do this. All of my friends got a positive test and then went to the doctor at 8 weeks and thought nothing of it. I am SO VERY TYPE A so I think I would spontaneously combust. I’ve also spent the last year studying absolutely everything that could go wrong in the next 8 weeks waiting for the first trimester to be over. I’m still so convinced that the idea of IVF working for us is a pipe dream. Also…really regretting not PGS testing now.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. For now I trot slowly towards Hurdle 2.
7 days post transfer and this popped up within like 30 seconds of peeing on the stick this morning. I was getting ready to jump in the shower when I looked and saw the line and promptly freaked the fuck out.
Blood test is Monday and I know a zillion and one things could go wrong. But for at least today…I am pregnant.
5 days post transfer and I’ve officially lost it. I’ve cycled between “THIS TOTALLY F-ING WORKED” and “This will be another massive failure” pretty much constantly over the last 5 days. I had some cramping off and on the first few days, but that’s pretty much gone now. No boob soreness that I read about all over the internet (yes, I’m currently living on google…it’s like I’m the sweet little fresh faced IVF newbie of yesteryear).
Just…nothing. I feel like I always feel. How is it freaking possible that all these little unicorns all over message boards are getting positive tests after 5 days? They are literally everywhere and I hate them (not really…but really).
On the one hand, not knowing is the worst. The absolute worst. But on the other hand, I somewhat enjoy holding onto the idea for another 4 days that this could be our chance. Our baby. Like, there’s nothing you can point to right now that says it definitively failed. So I still get to have that nugget of hope that this could be successful.
So there’s an embryo somewhere in me. A little 90% hatched nugget. I can’t believe this is our 3rd transfer. 2 years, 2 retrievals, 3 transfers and nearly $40,000 later….
I’m in the zen phase. It’s either going to work or it won’t (Schrödinger’s fetus much?) . I’ve already assumed it will not, but of course I still hope. I’m not sure where we go if this fails – the options are IUI with donor sperm or another IVF with half my husband and half donor to confirm our suspicions on why we have so few make it from day 3 to 5.
But for now? For now I wait. And who am I kidding? I fucking HOPE this is it.
So at my lining check on Friday, I asked the nurse to draw circles on me for my husband to aim at with the needle. He’s always a little nervous the first few times and needs a target to hit. She only drew it on one side, so last night we did that side and I told him he’d have to use his best guess for tonight’s shot. His response?
“Meh, I’ll just throw it like a dart at that side and see where it sticks. Should be fine.”
I married this man. On purpose.
Had my lining check and blood work done today and all went fine. Lining was at 9.2 and trilaminar and my progesterone showed I have not yet ovulated. I get to start PIO again tomorrow (YAAAAY…said no one ever) Transfer is scheduled for next Friday the 10th. Sigh.
I am so over this cycle. I think both my husband and I know this is going to fail. We were optimistic during the first IVF. It just something we had to do to have a baby. When both of those transfers failed, we were gutted, but didn’t think twice about another round. When the 2nd round became its own clusterfuck, I think both of us kind of realized that we were never going to have biological children together. I am so mentally checked out on this cycle. It’s going to fail…because why would it not? That is just our luck.
Man, I am negative as hell lately aren’t I? Sorry. My husband gets really annoyed with me if I show negativity out loud, so I’ve gotta get it out somewhere!
In case you were wondering how FET prep is going, I walked the dogs today near a park where a children’s soccer game was going on and I started crying.
That’s really all I got at the moment.
So much estrogen.
Welp. It’s been an eventful two days. Yesterday marked the start of my period (FUCKING FINALLY!), my husband’s 37th birthday, and a meeting with the RE to discuss…everything.
So…it’s a sperm issue. Nothing we didn’t already know. She said given my age and the fact that his counts and quality (HAH) are holding steady, there’s no reason to NOT go ahead with a 3rd cycle should the next transfer fail. It’s really a matter if we can stomach it emotionally and financially. Bright side: 3rd cycle is discounted 50%. So…we could have this going for us. It all boils down to luck and the fact that it’s a numbers game. One of those little fuckers someday is bound to be genetically normal and stick. It’s just up to us to figure out how long we want to wait and what we want to go through for a child this both of ours genetically.
She brought up donor sperm. Whether it be in an IVF cycle with half my husband’s sperm and half donor sperm to confirm our suspicions. Or just straight up IUI with donor sperm. We’ve talked about donor embryos so that I could still experience pregnancy, but donor sperm has never been talked about. And this is where my husband shocked me.
“At this point, I just want to raise a child with her. If there are two parts and we know which part is malfunctioning, you replace that part, right?”
I think I looked at him like he had two heads. I truly thought that he would not want to even discuss it. He just shrugged at me and said “Kids come out not looking like their parents all the time, right?” To her credit, my doctor took it all in stride and agreed. She said “Damn right. You raise that child and it’s yours. No one can take that away from you.”
I won’t bore you with all the details, but we’ve decided to go through with the FET on this cycle with our one remaining embryo. It’s funny and sad at the same time, but I think both of us are kind of checked out on this one. We both know it’s going to fail and we just want to get through it so we can figure out our next step. I start estrace tomorrow and go in for a lining check next Friday the 3rd and will start PIO the next night. If all looks well, the FET is on for Friday the 10th.
I know that sounds…shitty and pessimistic. But it’s kind of freeing in a way. We still have options. Maybe we do another cycle (at 50% off baby!!) and test the donor sperm route with half.
Every time I look at my husband, I want to cry when I realize I may never have a biological child with him. But then I also look at him and realize that I married the most amazing freaking man I’ve ever met.
Day THIRTY FUCKING ONE of the cycle that just won’t end.
I went off the pill in January of 2015 and have been tracking my cycles ever since. I went back through the history and I’ve never had a cycle longer than 29 days (and curiously, that was the cycle after my first egg retrieval). 27 days is probably about 70% of my cycles. A few 26’s and 28’s sprinkled in there. So WHAT THE FUCK body?!
I just took a pregnancy test when I got home from work not too long ago. Big ole negative. I’ve never EVER skipped a period – not before the pill, not in the last 2 years. I’m under a normal amount of stress. No lifestyle changes. So truly, body, BRAVO. You have sunk to new levels of annoyance to me. I have all the impending period doom symptoms. My back has been hurting for like a week now. Cramps and twinges in the uterus region. Bloating like a bitch. But nothing. Not even a spot.
Stupid me starting crying when it came up negative. All day I had convinced myself that this was going to be some freak of nature conception. Like, we would fall into that less than 1% chance (yes, I researched it).
I’m tired, y’all. Next week marks 1 year since we got the results of my husband’s first SA after 1 year of actively trying and realized that pregnancy wasn’t going to be easily achieved. I know in the grand scheme of infertility, 2 years is nothing. But I’m feeling it. I’ve dreamt of being pregnant and having babies my entire life and a year ago, I was so optimistic. I’m just tired. Today proves that I still have some optimism left in me, however misplaced. It also proves that reality is a cruel bitch and she has no issue slapping you in the face when she feels like it.