Take Two

It's been three weeks since the dreaded and disappointing pregnancy results.  If the absence of a pink line wasn't enough, I got my period later the same day I took the pregnancy test.  How's that for a double whammy? 

The very next day, I found myself in the Kaiser pharmacy picking up another prescription of Clomid.  Soon enough, on day three of my cycle, I started popping the hormones and preparing for round two.  No time to wallow and cry over spilled milk.  Just gotta roll with it! 

Five days later, on my last day of Clomid, I flew to New York for a weekend and escaped the reality of the missing pink line.  I strolled Central Park, gawking at the leaves turning color, sang along with the Jersey Boys, sailed up to the top of the Empire State Building and caught up with a good friend.

Once home, it was back to business - taking and recording my temperature before getting out of bed, and peeing on an ovulation test strip each morning.  Like clockwork, I got the smiley face on day #16 of my cycle - the same day as last month.  I set up an appointment with Kaiser for the next day and called PRS to let them know I'd be by to pick up my swimmers that afternoon.

Feeling as if I was acting in a scene from Groundhog Day, I returned to PRS once again, picked up my abnormally large box containing my swimmers, carried them through the busy lobby of 444 DeHaro and sat them securely in the back seat of my car.  Only this time, I took the lil guys home with me for the night.  Yes, that's right, they stayed the night with me in my apartment.  And no, I didn't sleep with them, though I did have them pose for a few pictures:)

The next morning, I loaded the boys again into the back seat of the car.  They cruised down the peninsula with me and waited patiently in the car as I carried on with a parent - teacher conference in my classroom and prepped my half-sub for the day.  8:30am, I hopped in the car and cruised further down south to Redwood City Kaiser. 

After checking in, I sat in the waiting room enviously observing large pregnant women waddle in and out, as my swimmers were behind the scenes getting warmed up for their journey. This time a month ago, I was too busy giggling with Jules and answering eager texts to notice big bellies passing by.

My appointment was with another doctor, as my last doctor was not available all day.  Whatever, didn't bother me much.  I was pleasantly greeted by a gray haired, spectacle wearing grandfather-like gentleman who got started by announcing, "OK, I hope this is your lucky day!  Time to make a baby!"

Like round one, the procedure took just minutes.  Lay back on the table, feet in the stirrups, insert metal speculum, insert catheter, release swimmers, a bit of uncomfortable cramping (more than the first time), and finally close the legs and remain on the table for 15-20 minutes.

After dressing, loading the box and tank back into the car, I returned to school, relieved my sub and carried on with my day.  Yup, just like that - as if I has just left for an hour for a routine check up.  No one had a clue that I had really left campus to go get pregnant. 

Other than my mother, and one friend who happened to call me as I was picking up my swimmers, I didn't tell anyone I was scheduled to get inseminated this time.  The first time around, I was texting friends status updates from the moment I picked up the lil guys, to the moment they were being introduced into my body.  Why the drastic change in publicity?

Um, not exactly sure, though doing it this way, this time around, felt right.  Part of me just didn't want to hop on the roller coaster of emotions.  I was so excitedly giddy, super positive and sailing on a high the first time around, that when I was faced with the results, I barreled down into the depths of negative thoughts, disappointment and depression. 

I was angry and felt betrayed.  Strong words, I know.  Well, they were strong emotions.  All the praying, offerings, meditating, preparation; not just by me, but also my friends gone to waste.  How aggravating!  Don't worry, I've cooled down.  I don't really consider all the praying and preparation a waste - it's just at the time, I needed to point an angry finger at something.  The something turned out to be Spirit. 

I know that Creator will deliver this spirit baby when the time is right.  I didn't get pregnant this time around for a reason.  I know.  I understand.  The time was not right.  OK, I get it.  Though as much as I want to, I'm not sure I can maintain an extraordinary level of positivity each time I prepare and await fertilization.  Sounds horrible, I know.  Clearly, I'm still stuck in a rut. 

What to do?  Psych myself up, ooze positive vibes, think happy thoughts and set them out into the universe?  Or, come down a level, (or several levels), get realistic, face the reality of the 5-20% success rate of IUI and spare myself the death drop of the roller coaster ride?  Just as I'm not sure whether I can sustain high levels of positivity, I don't think I can wallow in the depths of disappointment either.

Find a balance I suppose.  Balance.  That's the answer to so many avenues in life, right?  So where does that leave me?  Think positively and practically.  Know that this will happen - in time.  And, know that along the way, I have lessons to learn. 

Well, I'm in the midst of the waiting game.  I still haven't told many people that I went in for round two, though I think word has spread, and if friends do know, they're not bringing it up.  Perhaps less performance anxiety this time around will yield positive results and two pink lines!  

 
 
   

Crampy with Clomid

November 10, 2010

Ugh, Clomid.

I'm in the midst of my second bout with the fertility drug, Clomid, prescribed to help kick start, energize and super size my eggs. I had debated whether I wanted to take the drugs the first time around. Did I want to try things naturally, take my chances and see what happens? Or, did I want to give my ovaries a boost, and help them usher a few healthy eggs out?

In the end, I decided to take the Clomid. Why not up my ante? As directed, I started popping the pills on the third day of my cycle. On this day, I happened to be staying a few nights in the Santa Cruz mountains with 120 5th graders, chaperoning Outdoor Ed. Night hikes, beach walks, songs by the campfire, learning the ins and outs of composting - good times.

After one dinner and a breakfast the following morning, I noticed a lot of discomfort in my belly. I'm crampy and gassy. Damn that cafeteria camp food! The discomfort continues throughout the night and into the next day. I distance myself from others, excuse myself to the bathroom as needed, and try to go easy on second helpings at the dinner table. On the bus ride home, I ride lurched over with my arm grasping my left side.

Two days and several home-made meals later, the gas and cramps have not ceased. A friend proposes that perhaps it's the meds. We take out the reading info that came with the pills from the pharmacist. Clearly stated, it reads: "Side effects: bloating, cramps, swelling and upset stomach"....Well, there you have it! Turned out it wasn't the camp food after all!

For the final few days on Clomid, I was more aware of what was going on in my insides. The pain on the left side of my body was merely my ovaries warming up and preparing a super egg! It felt as if my tubes were oh so slowly inching out an egg the size of a cantelope. I swore I could feel the boulder being pushed down, down, down...

Now, sitting in close quarters on a plane headed to NYC, I battle the gas, cramps and discomfort once again. Luckily I've only had to disturb the guy next to me once to use the lavatory and the cramps are not nearly as painful as they were the first time around. Phew! Just gotta hold out two more hours! Today is my final day on the medication (day #5), I should be able to enjoy New York this weekend gas and cramp free! Yay!

Time for Take Two

Well, I'm slowly creeping out of hiding since Wednesday's disappointing results.  Yes, that's right, no baby.  I woke Wednesday morning restless with anticipation.  I had had odd dreams involving flying creepy crawlers and hadn't had the best night's sleep.  Nevertheless, I rolled over, pounded the blaring alarm clock, and reached for the thermometer.  98.0, still in the higher range - a good sign.

I hustled out of bed, bypassed the bathroom and went straight for my altar.  I lit a few candles, had a moment of prayer - a prayer for hope, patience and understanding should the results not be in my favor.  On to the bathroom...

I wrestled open the foil wrapper of one of the pregnancy tests thoughtfully given to me wrapped in pretty paper with a big white bow, a few nights ago by one of my bestest friends.  Took a seat on the toilet, counted to three as the pee ran over and down the test strip, and placed it on the sink counter top to wait for the results.

I went about my morning for the next three minutes...made my bed and fed Spikey, all the while, my hands trembling.  With a sense of trepidation, I slowly made my way back to the bathroom.  I could hardly take the final steps into the bathroom, nervous with anticipation, fear and excitement.  The mixture of emotions were surreal.

Before making it all the way to the sink counter top, I spied from above, the dreaded single pink line.  My heart dropped.  Without thinking, I grabbed for the instructions resting by the box.  5 seconds!  Oh gosh, I peed for only three!  Wait, can two seconds really make a difference?  Doubt it...but, hey, why not?

Repeat.  Do over.  In the back of my mind I knew it was a long shot.  But hey, I had another box of pregnancy tests under the sink.  Yay, maybe it was a good idea to try another brand!  Three minutes later, the results were confirmed - no baby.  I was devastated.  With a loud "clang" I threw the two tests into my stainless steel wastebasket.  On with my morning...

Then came the first text....and then for the next hour, more.  My sistrens sending their love, thoughts and prayers.  As much as I appreciated their sentiments, I wanted it all to stop.  Every time I read their texts, my eyes welled up.  I couldn't respond to them.  It was almost as if by tapping the letters and sending the words made it all too real and vivid.  I hadn't accepted it yet...I hadn't dealt with it yet...I just couldn't respond...I needed time.

I hurriedly got dressed, packed my lunch and hopped into the car.  I just wanted to get to work.  Work, my haven.  Once there, I knew I could escape the reality of it all.  I would easily get engrossed in the day, tend to my kids and duties and forget about the single pink lines. 

When I didn't respond to the texts, the calls came in.  I considered turning off my phone...each sound of the text alert or the phone ringing triggered the tears.  At the same time, I needed to know that my sistrens were thinking of me and I was in their prayers.  Soon enough, I made it to work.  Turned the phone off, tossed it in my purse and shoved it in my desk drawer.  Relief.  The only bell I wanted to hear now was the school bell starting the day.

At the end of the day, more texts and messages awaited my reply.  Again the tears.  Ugh.  I went straight home.  I showered, washed the day off and had a glass of wine.  Might as well, I had avoided alcohol for the last two weeks - I deserved it!  I curled up under a blanket on the couch, caught up on past Oprahs and CSI's, all the while avoiding the calls, texts, messages, emails, and Facebook alerts. 

For the most part, this continued for the next few days.  Like Pavlov's dog, I was triggered every time I heard my phone, listened to messages or read the texts.  I felt horrible not responding.  I just couldn't bring myself to talk about it.  It was easier to go into hiding, avoid reality and prepare myself for round two.

After spending much time alone, getting lots of rest and treating myself to a massage, mani and pedi, I am slowly coming out of hiding.  I admit, I still haven't had the ugly cry yet and I know it's inevitable.  I'm just tormented by having to deal with the emotions and at the same time, staying positive and focused to prepare myself for this month's insemination.  So, I guess I'm at a cross between a cry and a cheer...

To all those who prayed for me, sent their love, tried to contact me, my apologies.  I love and appreciate you all.