Oh my god where do I begin....
1. The RE asked the couple what they were going to name the baby if they had one...what RE does that? Same scene...why was she there two days before the beta...why....
2.ummmmmm there are too many annoying things to even say anything else...
3. Oh one more...the RE was having sex...ewwwww it never occured to me that they have sex ewwwww
oohhh gotta go it is back on...
Morning after the show: Ok so I may have been a bit juvenile about the sex thing but really I do not care how good looking that RE is I just do not care to see him in his big ass house having sex with some trollop. It just annoyed me.
At the end that stupid women saying to the doctor how she is so sure that she was pregnant. Come on we are not stupid, uneducated, and willing to be less than prideful with her display of affection and excitment before getting the results. She would have been quiet and nervous at that moment no?
Aside from the annoying things...see my comment below...I will be tuning in next week because I am sick like that.
The Gastrononmy Gods have taken up a friendship with the Infertility Gods deeming me worthless of good embryo's or a good meal.
Depression has me treading through the days of too much work, alcohol, friends, noise, thoughts, fights, and food while I drift through tides of concious strange behavior and attitudes. I am not stranger to depression but this time it has taken a new route. Conversation has become increasingly difficult, choppy, and I have had a tendency to interrupt because I cannot seem to get my mind to focus and get balanced. I teeter on the edge of crying and laughing hysterically at any moment which leaves for an odd Gourmet.
Take last night for example. I was seriously looking forward to a mad dining experience at a restaurant called Tejas that was opened by the owner of one of my favorite restaurants Harvest. Diligent eaters that we (David, Duane, and myself) are checked the website to make sure that they would be open and ready for us diners. Check. However, after a pathetic scene of crying and whining at my house where David and I both complained of nothing to wear due to miniscule amount of laundry two depressed people can accomplish in a week, we drove towards the destination of food extravaganza onlyu to receive a call from the Duanemeister that they were closed. Access denied.
Where do hungry, picky people eat on a Sunday night? The answer....the disapointing Cheesecake Factory. Now for a chain I give it two thumbs up for variety, presentation, and lovely ambience but when you want really good food this will not do. I am not a food snob because if I found myself at C.F. on any other day or for lunch it would be fine and nice.
So there we were with low lights and variety to cover up my depleted social skills. By the end of the meal my pal Mykala and Duane went off to the bathroom and by the time they got back I was crying. What set this off? ...as they looked at me strangely. My answer was I cannot seem to seperate my life from my pain or some other stupid answer like that and then I gave my example. What is a girl to do when her sweet husband is lying on the couch with his kitty and looks up at me out of the blue and says "I guess this means that I will not be dancing with my babies at my brother's wedding" and then proceeds to hang his sweet little head into the cats body and crys. What does a wife do with that? I will tell you she cries at inapropriate times mixed like a bad drink with too much fruit with intermittant hysterical laughter. Sick.
I am ensconced in my own psych ward of a hospital where they make their patients wear straight jackets. I wonder if they come in red or black...some of my best colors.
Today I sit here eating bad food at lunch. Hoffmeister cheese bought from the international store which I grudingly will admit to liking the pistachios cheese with crackers. It is all I got for you folks. Oh actually I have one more thing...I am pimping new bloggers over on my list of infertiles. I have added a few new and quite a few old bloggers so please pop over to their pads where I am sure the talk is a little more cohesive and a little less muddled with sorrow. Now in true post-IVF fashion let me go and eat my bad food for no good reason.
Chipper is how I would describe my annoying self. I answer my phone like it is the best thing I have ever done. I answer my door like the Publishers Clearing House is standing there with a check for two million which would cover about 1.4 IVF cycles per my barren bloggers. I do business like God smiled on me with this higher calling to be a Realtor.
I hang the phone up in an exhausted huff. I close that front door with a thousand tears. I leave a client and unsmile and cry.
This facade is truly brilliant. I do deserve an Emmy. Everyone thinks I am handling this fine when really all I want to do is curl up in a non-existent ball of dread. I do not want to answer my phone but I do. I do not want to be nice to everyone who passes but I am. I just want to be a prickly depressed bitch. I want to run for the mountains or a sunny beach but I cannot.
So many things I want to run to and away from this crap I call infertility.
For a few weeks while I was in the cycle I was happy and geared up which was the first time in years I felt happy. Happy was visiting me because for the first time in what felt like forever I was doing something to be a mom and to make a family. I was out of the limbo of waiting and hoping. However, with this failed cycle here I am back in the "Now what do I do now ?" frame of mind. I tell you what I am doing. Listening to toastie radio.
I have to wait several months before I can cycle again because my clinic requires three periods in between. Aside from that the earliest target date that they have available is Feb. 9th. February is like a thousand light years away. A million miles away from my dreams.
Let me get back to my depression. I am incapable of acting depressed in front of anyone so what most see is this upbeat girl who needs to be smacked. My husband is about the only one who sees it.
Yesterday in discussing plans for Shabbos which it is soooo my turn because I have forgone the responsibility now for at least a month I said that I would have to think about whether or not I could handle being a hostess. I chipperly told my neighbor on the phone that I needed to think about it because I do not know if I am up to it. Normally I would say yes and just deal but this time I thought about it and called my friend back and said that getting dressed wore me the fuck out and if that is difficult I gurantee that being a nice hostess and putting on my usual dinner would be impossible. So I am not doing it.
The pain of this is so intense and I am overwhelmed.
I need to work on just acting like I feel. Why should friends always see me as chipper when that is not how I feel. Business wise I will stay that way because I am professional but the rest will have to deal.
Chippy Chipper needs to make some Chocolate chip cookies because she was too damn healthy today than she should have been in hard times like this....wheatgrass shots, veggy sandwiches, and herbal tea.
We bitter infertilites love a good neighbor, SIL, or In-Law story right? Cause' I got one.
The scene: My backyard
The Characters: Myself and the neighbor whose son killed my dog
Small talk occuring and then she asks if the test was negative or positive....you all know this part of the story.
She ohhhhhhhhhs and aaahhhhhhhhs and says I am sorry. Then she says well you are not going to want to hear this which obligated me to saying what is that? She then regales me about the other son and his wife who went off birth control in May and started trying in August and now Voila! She is knocked up and due on my due date of May 15. First of all do not laugh at me for looking up my due date with this IVF cycle. I was curious so laugh quietly.
Then I hear how they have been having marriage problems and hope this will make the difference.
Is anyone else choking to death on a spoon right now? Because I do not know about you but I felt sick like I wanted to puke...maybe I am pregnant...oh no I am not because I am bleeding and clotting like crazy.
Ask me what your gourmet did. She smiled and says with a fained excited and civil "oh congratulations!" The look on the outside was good acting on the inside I pictured gremlins sucking my heart dry and chewing me apart. No one knew the inner turmoil. I deserve an emmy.
Update: Ok I could have been more subtle but I am still bitter about my dog dying and I barely had an apology and I got that only after I confronted the son. The following posts explain the Curry saga for those of you that have not been reading since the beginning. I now have two ridgebacks that are Curry's sisters. The girls are ok. Curry is still in my heart though.
Where do I begin and where do I go from here?
The obvious emotions of a failed IVF cycle are in the throes of turmoil. One moment I have a numb and forgotten feeling. The next the impact hits like a thousand meteors in my heart. In between both of these are the subtle yet frustrating feelings that seemingly will linger forever.
We played the last card in the armory of the infertility game. Yes, we can do it again and I imagine that is just what we will do but before there was always IVF left to do if nothing else worked. Now, we can officially say that we have done all that we could.
This morning I just feel a sense of doom. A dull ache accompanied by a grey sky and a grey future.
I dealt with the news on my own Thursday. I knew it was going to be bad news but I had to get my house clean before I called the clinic. I cooked delicous food like cream of zucchini soup, carrot and potato, root salad, and I bought from whole foods a decadent looking dessert with a strawberry mousse on a crust. I also had the typical cast of cheeses ready and waiting ...Tomme de Savoie, Parrano, Ubriaco, and a new try which was a Stilton with mango and lemon peel added to it. Why, you ask, was the food and details important to the suckiness of the day? My answer...how else could one prepare for some of the worst news in her life except to plan and prepare ceremoniously with perfection a backdrop to something out of my control. However my menu was in control.
Finally, after mopping and cooking fervently I showered and made the call. I planned that I was not going to cry but just ask when I could start the next cycle. The nurse was too sweet and was not matter of fact about it which brought my womanly emotions to the surface carelessly knocking aside the poker, business facade. I cried on the phone to the nurse. Pathetic. Talk about the stereotypical IVF patient call requesting the results of a doomed negative beta. I hate being stereotypical.
Honestly, which I am completely a doofus for admitting, I still had an iota of hope that my thousand tests were wrong and I was indeed pregnant. I knew better but you know how Hope is...she is evasive that way.
A thousand people called to get the results from me that day and I had offers of company which at first I declined. By the evening after my one glass of wine I decided that I would have friends over. My neighbor bought dinner for me and my friend Mykala brought cards. So the evening turned into almost a college night....cards, a glass of wine, and a litte weed. The only things missing were the bongs, the cussing, and the talk of hot guys. Which leads me to another weird feeling of limbo in my life. If I am not to be a mother soon determined by failed acts of god then what am I supposed to be doing?
Remember David was in Korea until Saturday evening and we agreed on no calling home because whether it was positive or negative we did not want him knowing.
Friday was a whirlwind of business that I needed to take care of with one of my clients, typical errands, and a mournful Shabbos dinner at the neighbors.
Saturday kept me busy all day at a dog show for Masala. She beat out the competition hard and won a blue ribbon...she was the only one in her puppy class. Well she would have won if there had been other pups to beat. By the time I got home it was about time to pick David up.
Off to the airport the girls and I went. It was so good to see him. I received the best hug from him that I have had in a long time. We drove out of the airport without mentioning the elepant in the room. Finally he said...Well? No, honey was my answer. His reply was is there any chance that Monday will be positive? Some time right around that moment I was starting my period so that would have been a no and then it was a big no.
Sunday was another big rush to the dog show again and then we visited my Grandpa who lived near the show. The girls were enamored by his African Grey Parrot named Oscar who talked to them. When we left the room Oscar would whistle for the dogs to come back. Intermittently screaming Bye Bill and See you later! Oscar is quite amazing with his repetoire of words. Before my grandfather and wife owned him her daughter and husband did. The husband speaks french. Oscar could hear him low talking on the phone and would mimic him .."Allo, mumbe jumble of french, D'accord". He also mimics the phone and when he rings you run to the phone because it does not sound any different. The husband put Oscar to bed by saying Bon Nuit but my grandfather jokingly imitating him says Bon Newey in a southern accent which the bird now always says it that way to my grandpa and to everyone else the correct french way. It is a hoot over there.
Do you see how time and tangents have taken me away from the core of the issue all weekend?
Finally Sunday evening we thought we would have to ourselves but then we found out our friend from Tucson was in town for his yearly business trip and this required us to take him out to dinner. Evening spent being bitter and joking about my struggles and catching up.
Fell asleep as soon as we got home.
So here I am Monday morning still in a jumble, feeling raw and frustrated, and to top it off I have a really, really bad case of the "mondays".
The girls (my puppies) and I just dropped David off at the airport. He is off to Korea until Saturday for business.
Thursday is my beta. I highly doubt that it will be positive as you know I tested this morning and it was negative. Most likely this cycle is over since I cannot find hardly anyone who tested later than day 12 or 11 and got a positive then. I did not tell David this news so he does not know. I had to act chipper all day when I feel an overwhelming sense of dread for the week. He is meeting with some really important clients this week and I could not have him worrying about me anymore than he already will.
Finally, under all the stress, I lost it towards the afternoon and cried. I told him I was crying because I would miss him. Which was true but there was just another element to the crying than I let him know. He started crying because he hates to leave me as we are typically attached to the hip. So for two hours before he left we had bits of crying and whining.
We made a rule that he was not to call home after Thursday as I will receive the results then. If it is by some small chance positive I would like to celebrate with him on Saturday when I pick him up. If it is negative I do not want him depressed and sad while dealing with these clients. So that is the pact we made. Nor is he allowed to call anyone we know as they will be ringing me non-stop and news will travel through the grapevine fast ...I just hope not fast enough that it reaches Korea.
This sucks for so many reasons. I will have to deal with this on my own. Not that I do not have wonderful friends who will be beating on my door disrupting my suicidal plans (Kidding ..just kidding) and ringing me until they all know if I am ok. What I really will need is some barfly of a friend who will get me drunk and introduce me to her fave bartender. However I have none of that variety and in fact I have not been drunk since my 21st birthday. It is about GD time. All kidding aside I will probably hole up in my house and order some bad food and pull the covers over my head. And drink. Water. Whenever I am depressed I drink water like I am in the Sahara which is fitting because I am as barren as the Sahara.
Here are all the food groups I will cover that I have not been allowed to do so....caffeine, processed, junk, alcohol, and some herbal concoctions and my gosh darned green tea that my doctor forbid me to have...asshole. For the record he is a nice man who is caring but Ghandi would have been an asshole too if he had forbid me from me teas. Oh and not to let me forget about my red rasberery leaf tea....oh the pains I have had without it.
I may test again tomorrow and then again I may not as my heart cannot take it. My last resort...token IVF has been used.
So that is the story today.
For the record tonight I will sleep with a thousand covers as he who steals blankets is away. I will only have to fight off the two bitches.
My understanding is that I should start having the possiblity of seeing a positive today or tomorrow. Has anyone gotten pregnant from an IVF cycle that showed a positive on day 12 or 13?