An unexpected moment brings it all flooding back. Just a glimpse, a photo, a sudden reminder of what others have so easily. My heart breaks all over again. The wall crumbles, the tears fall.

The pregnant woman. Everything I want so desperately, everything I work so hard for. She is beautiful, so achingly beautiful… but all I can see is a hazy grey as my soul recoils in anger and hurt. It is sudden and takes the wind right out of me.

I cry at the anger. I grieve the joy I once felt as such pictures. I grieve the me who celebrated with them, awaiting my own life inside. The anger disgusts me, and yet it is so, so deep. So much jealousy and envy, so much anger at the mere thought that someone else may not appreciate what they have half as much as I would.

If this cycle fails… I just don’t know what I will do. I hurt so much.

I know what I want for a ring. I was looking online and suddenly a memory struck me… a ring I had loved when looking for wedding rings once upon a time (obviously, something I never ended up purchasing!). I had found it in a Canadian jewelry store that I really like. Sadly of course they do not have it on their website anymore… but I did save a picture of it on my computer in my “wedding” folder. This is it.

I also ended up finding a ring on their current website that strikes me as an “almost”… I think the perfect ring for Devin would be a combination of the two. Maybe without the side diamonds. I do love the marquise style stone but I think a princess cut would work just as well.

I also have to decide what size to get… should I get it made for my right ring finger, or my middle finger?

I’ve seen several mothers rings that I really like… that are meant for 2 or more children. Maybe someday I’ll be able to get one of those for all of my children. Someday.

Quick vent first, before I get to my entry.

I stopped by the jewelery store today to look at their aquamarine rings; one of the things I am doing for Devin’s birthday is finally getting myself a birthstone ring. I am not sure exactly what I am looking for, but I know I want it to be small, elegant and simple. I am not impressed with their selection. I went online and am not impressed with anyones selection. It appears I have two choices: a mother’s ring, which most of them require two or more stones (I have only one child!), or an aquamarine ring, most of which are huge and gaudy. I mean, seriously? I am sure there are people out there who like that sort of thing… I am decidedly not one of them. I just want a simple stone in a simple setting. Why is that so freakin difficult?!

I don’t have an engagement ring. I do not, in fact, actually own any diamonds. My wedding band is just that – a simple wedding band. I’ve always had in mind buying something sparkley later on, but when faced with the decision of a ring or a camera I chose the camera. (I also have some moral objections to diamonds, which makes me hesitate even more.) But of course I looked. I like the small dainty ones, this is what I want. Just perfect.

The woman mentioned how they have a payment plan. Whenever I’m in a jewelery store I always get the feeling like they just assume I’m looking at the small rings because that’s all I can afford. I just laugh to myself. Maybe I’m the odd one.

::

One of the odd/interesting things about Facebook is that you re-connect with people from your past who you probably never would have otherwise. It seems that my friends from highschool have all remained very close friends… spending time together, going out together. It’s an odd kind of feeling, reading their updates to each other. What was it about me that I couldn’t stay connected? Even while I was there. But then I realize I was never really all that connected, even in high school. I was always apart from the rest. I just don’t think I ever really belonged. And I don’t think I should feel sad for that. Life took me in other directions.

It’s easy to fall into a mopey kind of state about things like that. My SIL has very close friends from highschool as well, as does my closest co-worker.

But then I log online and realize I am not alone. I may not have many people here, but just look at how much friendship I have cultivated in my life. Sometimes I just need to remind myself I have friends, too.

::

This has not been an easy week for me at work. For one reason or another there has been an upsurge in baby talk. Now I can handle it for some time. Sometimes I even participate. But I do still have a threshold for it – and I think right now I’m a little more emotional than I usually am. There are times when the buzzing in my head hurts, because the voices in my head are saying everything I can’t say outloud… the “it doesn’t always work out,” and “I had a baby, too!”

And yet I stand by my decision not to say anything to them. I just take a breather when I need to. I just don’t want the awkwardness around me… I don’t want people wondering what they can and can’t say, I don’t want whispering and silenced conversations when I walk near. That would drive me even crazier. They know my story, and I try to talk about Devin. For me it is a relief to be able to talk about him in random conversations and not have people stop or stutter. I am VERY appreciative of that. But I know that I set the tone. I speak about him with calmness, joy. A little wistful. That’s how I want him to be remembered. That’s how I want him to be talked about.

But sometimes it is just really hard, especially right now in the middle of infertility treatments. Pregnancy announcements, even if they come from complete strangers, still kick me in the ass. I always feel this flush of warmth heat my face, the anger and frustration coming to the surface for that moment. Why not me?? Always the same question, never an answer.

Dealing with the public you really get a good look at all the people who have babies and little kids. Maybe some of them had trouble conceiving… but you know that for the most part they were all blissfully unaware of what could go wrong. So many families. That’s all I want. I just wanted to be like them. I just want to walk into a bank with my little children in tow. It looks so simple. For them it probably is.

But we are not them. And we never will be.

::

My SIL was a little surprized when I told her retrieval was going to be next week. “It goes so fast!” she said. And it does. Once the cycle picks up with stims it doesn’t take long. But I’m still impatient.

I’m feeling some twinges in my ovaries, which is a good sign. Hopefully this time I won’t be feeling much more than twinges by the end, unlike last time. Tomorrow morning is my ultrasound. Again, impatient. I just want to know what’s going on in there. I just want to double-check that it’s still on track. Getting some idea of when retrieval will be would be nice, too.

If you can believe it, I actually left out a part of yesterday’s story… the part where I threw up in a parking lot. Oh yeah, it was a fantastic day, I tell you. I was standing in the store, picking up a work order, when I started feeling ill. Very, very ill. It seemed to take forever to pick up the stuff and get outside, and by then I just wanted to heave. I managed to drive a little ways away before opening the door and throwing up my non-existent breakfast. It felt aweful. I hadn’t even eaten! Only took that…. pill…. oh son of a BITCH. Remember last cycle?? Oh yeah. antibiotics on an empty stomach. IDIOT.

::

I told you yesterday… I TOLD you. The urine culture came back negative for bacteria. WTF? Like I said, this has happened before to me. Well, I am feeling better today so I have no clue what was going on with that. But as long as my bladder is relaxing and having a good time then I frankly don’t care.

::

Stars be blessed, today was a better day. Not a great day, not by any stretch, but a better day for sure. Yesterday’s injection didn’t swell up nearly as much as the first ones, and my UTI symptoms disappeared. I felt almost human today… other than the fact that I looked completely dishevelled and was drinking cranberry juice all day (which, by the way, I don’t even like).

Plus… well, I think it’s fair to say I’ve been a little emotional the last couple of days. Today, even though I physically felt fine, there were times where I was sitting at my computer wanting to just burst into tears. Why? I have’t a clue!

And then evening rolled around and I got a nice headache.

Seriously, is this how most of you feel during stim cycles? If it is, I am SO SORRY. I know I’ve always felt a little big smug that I was special and never really got any side-effects to any of the drugs I took. Clomid, lupron, follistim… I hear some real horror stories, but nope, nothing of note for me.

And now I am lumpy, red, itchy and weepy. Serves me right.

::

More good news is that my E2 level is quite nice, right where it should be. That at least helps reassure me that the menopur is doing something. Will it be too much or too little? Only time will tell. I go in friday for an ultrasound and bloodwork.

So today… didn’t go as planned. To say the least.

I woke up to a doubly swollen stomach today. Yes, last night’s shot also reacted. No bruising this time, but a nice big lump. Matching lumps! And it, too, was itchy. My boss happened to be there when I arrived, so I had her take a look at it (as she happens to have medical training in a totally unrelated field). “I have taken two injections so far, one here, one here. Does this look like an allergic reaction to you?” She peered at it. “Yep. Definitely.” I stomped upstairs shouting, “WHY can’t ANYTHING be EASY?!??”

I know, allergic reaction was suggested to me yesterday. And I held it in my mind as a possibility, but I just wanted to wait and see if that first reaction was going to turn out to be a one-off type of thing. So I was really in quite a sour mood to find out that, no, this really is an allergic reaction of some sort. So I called the nurses and left a message for them just to let them know and find out if they wanted me to do anything about it. I made sure to point out that I was not in pain or anything, just itchy, no big deal. Just… thought you should know, is all. And then I went upstairs and freaked out that this would be A BAD THING and they would want to pull me off this drug. I was already preparing my bargaining – I’ll suffer, just let me do this cycle!! Please!!

Meanwhile coworker arrived and did the casual, “So how are things?” I showed her my stomach with a grumble, curse and a groan. “And,” I added, “on Saturday I felt a UTI starting, but at least that hasn’t bothered me since.” Cue dramatic irony here.

To rewind a little bit, when I was finishing up work on Saturday I had to pee several times. After about three trips to the bathroom (with little output) I knew it was not normal. I’ve had a UTI before, I know what that feels like. I came home and drank a ton of cranberry juice and layed in bed and thought more about the shot I needed to give myself than anything. Sunday I spent the day in bed, but I felt fine either way. I didn’t give the “possible UTI” a second thought until I mentioned it offhand to my coworker this morning.

So sure enough today it started bothering me again, with increasing intensity over the day. At first I figured I’d just wait to talk to the nurse when they called back about the allergy thing. Then when I felt like I wanted to just live in the bathroom I figured the nurse would be calling me any minute now. I finally ended up giving up on work and driving home. I was miserable. The itchy stomach thing had receded so far into the background of my conciousness I barely noticed it… it was my poor bladder that was shouting and banging pots and pans in my head.

Of course, somewhere in the process of driving home, stopping at the pharmacy to buy some OTC stuff, and running into the house to the bathroom, I missed the goddamn mothereffing call from the nurse. I had the phone either in my purse or in my hand at all times, so WHAT THE HELL?? Thinking it was really getting late and I should ring the on-call person I picked up my phone and there it was, “1 Missed Call” and a voicemail. I swear to you I wanted to throw that phone against the wall and scream, I really, really did.

I was left wondering WHO DO I CALL?? I just had a feeling that maybe the RE’s clinic isn’t the one who really should be handling something as mundane as a UTI, but at the same time I am an active patient and it’s all kind of connected, health-wise. The RE’s nurse is definitely who I wanted to talk to. Most people call their primary doctors, but the last time I did that I was told I didn’t have a UTI and was sent to my ob/gyn (who said I did have one, and treated it), so I don’t exactly trust his office with this particular problem. Do I call the ob/gyn? Suddenly I realized I am not ready to go back there until I am pregnant again. So… what do I do???? On a whim I called the RE nurse’s line… and she answered. Oh I felt like I’d won the lottery. No, really… it was the best thing that had happened all freakin’ day.

The nurse sent in a prescription for antibiotics for the stupid UTI, but I had to go get my urine cultured. I decided to go do that right then – the sooner I do it, the sooner they get the results. Unfortunately I’d been peeing all. day. long. I squeezed out a pathetic little amount into a little cup. I was told it was probably enough for one test… but two had been ordered. So I drank some water, sat in the waiting room for 15 minutes, and tried again. I think I gave them enough. Of course I’m now worried that, like last time, I’m going to be told I don’t have a UTI. Wouldn’t that be hysterical. Because I so do.

Getting back to the nurse’s voicemail message, there were other little goodies in there.

First of all, on saturday the nurses had asked me what kind of hCG I have for my trigger shot, since they were thinking the Dr wanted me to do the Ovidrel again, like last cycle. I, of course, have Novarel, not Ovidrel. So in my message I mentioned it, thinking they would just order me the correct stuff. Oh no. The nurse checked with the doctor. What I have is what he wants me to use this time – but he wants me to do it intramuscular.

I nearly dropped the phone. Not what I was expecting to hear!! I mean, it makes sense. But… what!! All you other IVF veterans must be giggling at me, because I’ve been pampered. I’ve gotten this far with doing only sub-q injections. No problem. I have lots of fat, I barely feel a thing! But the thought of that big needle in a muscle scares me to death. Oh goodie! Something new to frighten me with!

Oh, and the thing that started this whole day? The allergic reaction? She said it probably is the menopur and that I can try hot or cold compresses, and also can try using a little more diluent when I mix it, that could help lessen the effects. But she says they really want me to stay on this medication if I can. If I can?? I may be hunting for an unbruised, unswollen piece of blubber by the end of stims, but by god I will survive. Just call me Ms. Lumpy.

So it turns out that the thing I was worried about was nothing big, the thing that I had dismissed wouldn’t leave me alone, and the thing I didn’t even think to think about bit me in the ass. Literally.

It just wouldn’t be my cycle without some weird big crazy rollercoaster-from-hell, now would it.

I’m already exhausted, and it’s only stims day 3. Is it just me, or does the crazy shit happen earlier each cycle?

Yesterday I gave myself my own shot. This is the first time I’ve ever had to do that for anything more than the little lupron shot – this was the full 1cc of fluid, mixed stims meds. And it was the one night Den had to work all evening. Short of driving myself up there so he could take a quick break to stab my stomach, I decided I’d just suck it up and do it myself. I could do this!

I got everything together, mixed the meds, drew it up, then stuck the ice pack on my belly until it started that tingly numb feeling. I did it quick, before I could overthink it. The needle went in easy, and… it didn’t even really sting as the fluid was injected. Not like last cycle. Easy as pie! I was so relieved!

And then I woke up this morning. A little bitty bruise, not bad… and a huge lump. And when I say “lump” I mean my entire belly was lopsided. I gave a, “Holy crap!” but no one was home to hear me (Den worked today again).

It was still big when Den got home, though, and he repeated my, “Holy crap, Nat! Are you okay??”

Den did my injection this evening and I’m really hoping that this one doesn’t do the same thing… although if it does at least both sides will be even, heh.

Now granted, I do not normally have a flat stomach, but this is something… special.

Weekends oppress me. All week I look forward to my day off, when the pressures of work finally let up and I can breathe for a day. I go to sleep Saturday night feeling gleeful and relieved. I even wake up feeling serene, light streaming in the windows, a dog nose next to mine (eyes peering into mine, questioning if I am actually awake or not). But very soon the silence sinks in a little too much, the boards I visit have nothing new to say, and I start getting that panicky feeling. I have nothing to do but think… and thinking is what I do not want to do.

I am still very appreciative of how fast the weeks go by when I am working so much. Every week I mark off on the calendar is another week that I survived, another week closer – I hope – to when I will have a new life to cherish. Right now there is nothing but the waiting. Anything that makes it go by faster is a balm on the countdown that repeats over and over again in my heart.

The weekend is, of course, when the internet is quietest. Other people are off spending time with their families. Even sites like lolcats seem quieter (though that may just be because I refresh the page every half an hour, looking for something new).

Typically I get bored, since my very short list of stuff I keep up on during the week is quickly exhausted with all this free time and I start poking around. Whatever happened to so-and-so? I look around places I haven’t seen in a week or more. That’s usually when I start running across the pregnancy announcements. Expected, but it still stings. She’s pregnant now, and so is she. That one I knew about, but she’s already that far along? And she’s pregnant too already?

I shut it all off, it just hurts too much. Not for them, but for me. It should have been me last month, announcing. Or the month before that, or the month before that. I have no idea if this month I will be the lucky one, but it stresses me out too much to think about it. I am not that one today, and that’s all that really matters. So I sit here alone and turn on the TV.

I could get up and do something productive, but my body is tired from the work week. It is my mind that is tearing loose. Maybe I’ll go grab a book… and some lunch.

A beautiful video for the Supreme Court, saying “Don’t Divorce Us!” Watch, read, and sign the petition against Prop 8. They will NOT win this one. Equality in love, for everyone.

Baseline went same as usual. More than 15 antal follicles total, thin lining, everything hunky dory to start. I didn’t get a call, which means my E2 was also completely normal.

Which is good, since the lady taking my blood had to poke me twice. I warned her about my veins, she tried, she rooted around, found nothing. Then the same in the other arm. Thank the light she found it there, because I was really wincing from the fishing for the vein. She had started eying the veins on the back of my hand, and I was politely trying to dissuade her from trying that. Oh nooo you don’t. No hands. Painful.

I did mention to the nurse that I was a little worried that my body wouldn’t respond to the menopur-only protocol. She reassured me by reminding me that menopur is half FSH, half LH. In every 75iu bottle there is 37.5iu of FSH. I’m doing three vials a day, so it’s basically like doing 112.5iu of follistim. That made me feel better. And it is a lower dose than before. This is good.

The hope is that the extra LH will all go to my little eggies and whisper in their ear.

Oh, also she mentioned that they recently (within the last year) changed their freezing protocol to only freeze embryos cultured to blast. She confirmed that if our second embryo last time didn’t freeze it was because it didn’t make it to blast. Which reinforced my belief that those embryos took a hit to quality with the overstimming… which I think also explains why the first embryo didn’t implant. It probably didn’t make a good blast either. Kind of makes me wonder why they transfer at day 3 at all…. using the same logic, they ought to wait and see if it’s a worthwhile embryo first.

I go in Tuesday morning for bloodwork to see how my E2 is doing. That will be the first clue that things are going well or not. Today was somewhat a “gimme” (as much as they can be, in this game)… but seeing if my body is responding appropriately, that will be the first big question.

I’ve always had an issue with the phone. A big one. Most teenaged girls glued their phone to their ear for the entire evening, and there I was, avoiding mine at all costs. I hated answering it, I hated calling people. My mom would get very frustrated and a little angry with me. “Just call and ask!” She didn’t see what the big deal was, and to be honest neither did I. I didn’t know why I disliked it so much, I just did.

Over time I have learned to prepare myself to use the phone. Speaking to people I know well is fine now, but for all other calls I have a process. I get a pen and paper ready, I jot down notes, I rehearse, and I have to have complete quiet.

I have had many years to ponder this issue, and realized that I have trouble hearing people. Or, rather, understanding them. Having a silent room to phone from is of paramount importance – any sound at all and I can’t understand a word that is said. It’s almost like my brain gets distracted… like the background noise garbles up the signal. I’m constantly asking, “Sorry, what was that?” Even when conditions are perfect, it is hard work. It takes all my concious effort to keep up with the conversation, and I feel quite exhausted afterwards.

I mentioned this offhand to my therapist last week, and she asked a few questions of me to get a better understanding of it. Do I have the same problems talking face-to-face? No, it’s much easier when the person is in front of me. Maybe it’s the connection I need, she said, that I don’t react well when it’s not personal. No, I countered – I love email and written communication… in fact, I prefer that over all else. Her suggestion was that the probems that I have on the phone I also have in face-to-face, but that I rely on visual cues to fill in the gaps. She said I might be lip reading far more than I am aware.

I’ve been paying attention for the week since then it all seems to make sense. I looked it up, and this is what I found: Auditory Processing Disorder. Well holy shit.

* It’s a processing disorder, not a hearing problem. Which explains my confusion all these years. I thought there couldn’t be anything wrong, since I have very sensitive hearing. But the problem is in my brain translating the sound to language.

* I have a hellish time understanding any kind of instructions given verbally. I always always have required it to be written down. Even if I only glance at it once, it still stays in my head that way. My parents used to argue with me and give me verbal driving directions and I would throw a fit… I just could not understand verbal directions.

* “need more time to process information” – This is one of the ways I’ve described what I’m dealing with. When I get verbal information I feel like I’m always three steps behind, struggling to process it all.

* “develop a dislike for locations with background noise such as bar, clubs or other social locations” – I despise them. I usually just give up completely. I usually end up just nodding and smiling a lot, because I can’t figure out what the fuck anyone is saying. Visual clues only get me so far.

Obviously whatever I have does not extend into other things. I am not autistic, dyslexic, ADD, or a language procesing disorder that extends into written words. It’s solely the auditory processing.

It does explain a lot, though. I like it when the puzzle pieces of my brain fall together a little bit more. Like when I was sorta-diagnosed with OCPD. Little things that basically explain who I am and how I function.

I should probably get formally tested and diagnosed with this APD, but to be honest, I don’t feel like shelling out hundreds of dollars in copays for something that have had all my life and have learned to cope with. I simply don’t see any benefits to being officially diagnosed. It’s not like depression, that you can “fix” with a medication. I know how to best structure things to my advantage – and I know my weaknesses. That’s pretty much the best you can do anyways. Most of what I find online is about school-age kids, and I’m a little bit past worrying about it being an issue in school.

Some people probably think I’m being overly dramatic and looking for things that aren’t there. But it is what it is, and I don’t really care if it’s something you can pin a name on or not. (It just makes it a little easier to describe and understand!) I have troubles understanding verbal speech and need to work a little harder than most people. That’s pretty much what it boils down to.