Uterus For Sale

For Sale

One used, middle aged uterus.  Original owner. Currently possess the inability to develop suitable lining on demand (even with outside drug help) to promote growth of impending embryo implantation.  Known issues include endometriosis, spotting for no apparent reason, and great emotional trauma.

If this item is for you, please call the number below.

1-800-GET SOME FUCKING THERAPY

All Sales Final.

In case you haven't figured it out, my lining decided this cycle to pull this crap.  Has this happened before?  No. So What the fuck?  I mean really.  Know how much my lining did grow?  It went from 5, to...wait for it...5.  Nothing.  It grew not at all.  So we are scrapping this cycle.  Back to the beginning we go.  Oh but wait, there's more!  Not only do we have to go back to the beginning, I have to get in the "Way Back Machine" and actually start out two weeks before the beginning.  Yes boys and girls, instead of going back to "1", I have to go back to "-14". First, I start on the pill for two weeks to bring on my cycle, then on some day after it starts ( I can't remember which day becuase frankly I can't care enough to lean over and look at the paper resting at my feet.)  I start the pill AGAIN and THAT'S the beginning.  It's birth control pill, the prequel.

To top it off  I come home to one of the cats puking on the carpet.  Yep.  That about sums up my morning.

Have a nice day!

SHE gets to have kids????

Seriously?  SERIOUSLY??!!  How many things are WRONG with this picture!  I lost count...

(I do have to admit to laughing at the comments though!)

http://failblog.org/2010/07/26/epic-fail-photos-parenting-fail-31-6/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+failblog+%28The+FAIL+Blog+-+Fail+Pictures+%26+Videos+at+Failblog.ORG%29&utm_content=Google+Reader

I Feel Week

The good news is the spotting seems to have stopped.  The bad news is, my lining is only at 5.  They want it to be at least 7.  Decision?  Give it another week.  I'll go back in on Wednesday and we'll check again.  If it doesn't work, then we'll scrap it and start all over again.  Tick toc. Tick toc.

...Life is but a dream.

Last night I had a dream.  My best friend is singing about the sadness and unfairness of life.  The tune is familiar but now I can't remember what it is.  I sang the first verse, something about in your twenties, how you think you have all the time in the world.  Then she continued eluding to a bunch other life disappointments.

Next I'm surprised by the news that 12 people are to descend on my house for dinner.  I was stressing out.  I go to the fridge and begin cleaning it out to make room for the food that will need to go in there for the guests.  I find cartons and cartons of old eggs.  So I  throw them out in the sink and watch them break one bye one and note the irony.

At the end of the dream when I wake the simple message from the song "Foolish Games" is played clearly in my head "You're breaking my heart".

It's  been stuck in my head all day.

~Sigh~

UPDATE!

Evidently the broken eggs represent my fear of wasting my embryos.   My unconscious mind sucks.  Why couldn't it give me dreams of star studded dinner parties or Wentworth Miller proclaiming his undying love for me.  No...instead it has to beat a dead horse.  What a bitch.

UPDATED, UPDATE!

We have decided that cleaning out the fridge means making a nice clean space for the embryos.  Yeah.  That's it!

Maybe I Just Need a KICK!

CON INCEPTION

And all will be well!

I am Estrogen's bitch.

Short story is, Dr. K is as concerned as I am about the spotting.  We are extending the drug protocol another week and adding an Estrogen patch because my lining was only 4 on CD15.  Too thin and we're hoping the spotting will subside.  The spotting seems to have stopped, but it tends to do that just before CD1.  So, I dunno.  We'll see on Wednesday.  If I still suck, we'll scrap the cycle.  I think at that point I'll start calling specialists and ask very demure and lady like, "WHAT THE FUCKING HELL????"

The heat has not helped my extra drug hormone fueled craziness.  So if you see me out on the street, I'd advise you either run, give me pretty things or a banana slurpee.  Just sayin'.

What if?

I tried to embed a video, but Word Press is a fucking bitch and won't is disinclined to cooperate.  Anyway, the link is below.  Watch it.

What IF? A Portrait of Infertility from Keiko Zoll on Vimeo.

Out, damn'd spot! out, I say! or Other Adventures Surrounding My Stupid Fucking Uterus

I like to think I'm a pretty reasonable person.  Not quick to emotion, fairly clear headed.  When I'm having trouble, I'm a solitary kind of creature.  When I'm having difficulty personally, emotionally, I crawl off like a hurt animal to suffer in silence until I can calm.  When I can't suffer in silence, I go further into the woods to howl in pain alone, again, until I calm.  My mother says I've done this since I was a kid.

If we go back a couple of weeks, when I was on the birth control pills, surprisingly my continued issue with spotting seemed to clear up.  I was obviously happy.  Then CD1 showed up and after the requisite week, the spotting continued, and still is.  Saturday, it seemed heavier than usual.  Now, I know one of the Estrace side effect is "Irregular vaginal bleeding or spotting", and that day I was scheduled to start taking it three times a day, but I hadn't yet.  So I was bummed.

Sunday morning I woke at 5:45 A.M., mind racing.  Thinking about the FET and the past six years of dealing with this shit.  It started with silent tears.  Then full-fledged crying.  So, I gave in to it.  I'll let it run its course.  Instead of running its self out, it got worse.  I sobbed and sobbed, then it got really bad.  I realized it wasn't stopping, and I had lost control.  Someone with control issues losing control is no small thing.  The Man had fallen asleep on the couch downstairs.  I gathered my convulsively crying self up and went downstairs bawling the way down, trying to rein it in.  As soon as I saw The Man I completely fell apart.  He was up like a shot and I crumpled.  He asked what was wrong, and after several strangled tries I finally choked out I was freaking out, and proceeded to do so, wailing about how I couldn't take another negative.  The crying fit didn't stop after my confession, inconceivably they got worse.  I was now dry heaving and hyperventilating.  It was frightening, I had no command over any of it, I couldn't breathe and my body was trying to expel whatever was evidently trying to kill me and I was terrified.  It just. wouldn't. stop.  I vaguely remember having visions of The Man racing me to the ER and them knocking my ass out.  Which, I would have really appreciated. After around an hour, I had finally gotten down to that hiccupy breathing, and was in a saner place.

Here are my questions.  What is causing the spotting?  Someone, somewhere KNOWS!  And someone somewhere KNOWS how to make it stop!  It doesn't make any fucking sense to put embryos into a uterus that is shedding lining all the fucking God Damn Time!  Does it? NO!  So why is no one else concerned but me?  WHY!! I do not want to waste those two precious, precious lives!  I will not!!

So here is how this is going down.  Wednesday when I go in for my ultrasound, I'm asking all those questions, AGAIN.  If I am the LEAST bit doubtful about the answers, I'm calling it off.  I will pull my feet out of the stirrups, get dressed and walk out of that office and start making phone calls to specialists.  All I will have lost is time and a bottle of Lupron.  I will get answers about the spotting and only when I am convinced about the situation or we have solved the spotting problem, will I do the FET.

How am I now?  Awful.  I'm a mess and in pain physically and emotionally, but I can put on a public face.  I can pretend that I'm a normal person and am not struggling.  Moment by moment is how I'll get through the next few days.  With any luck, no one will get hurt, including myself...well more hurt.

Check, please!

Drug induced rage?  Check.

Hot flashes?  Check.

Body aches?  Check.

Headaches? Check.

Next?

IDEK...

Can someone please tell me, how the spot band-aids I use to cover my injection sites end up in the oddest places?

Seriously.

Team Estrace

Today was a pretty good day.  The headaches were manageable and were easily handled with Tylenol.  That's awesome.  I even felt well enough to hit the movies today.  I have to say, it was better than I thought it would be.  I was pleasantly surprised.  I enjoyed it quite a lot.  In fact, I would actually pay to see it again.

So, since I feel so much better, of course it's time to start the Estrace.  I fully expect it to make me feel like shit becuase God forbid I should actually feel good while I'm on the drugs.

Maybe we could get Jasper in here to mellow me out.  I like it.  MAYBE he could hire himself out to women on Lupron.  I'm sure husbands around the world would pay big bucks to have Jasper calm their hormonal wives.  I'm so amused with the thought I can't even stand it.