Ways in Which I am Like a Hippo

1. The bloat. Oh, the bloat. After I was all sunshine and rainbows about the paracentesis and how I felt so much better, I literally ate my words. It is back, it is bigger and it hurts. They measured my "girth" and weight today, both of which are up, and my ovary is palpable and ginormous. Have you noticed if you rearrange the letters of "OHSS" you get "HOSS"? No accident. I look about 5 months pregnant and am hiding my belly which looks quite pregnant, under puffer vests and large sweat shirts, but I am not that big to begin with so it is painfully obvious. If it were not for low-rise jeans, I'd be in my maternity ones. The doctors told me today that since my beta has gone up again to 862, and the pregnancy seems healthy, we have at least a few more weeks of OHSS fun before it starts to get better.

2. I am hungry. Like a hungry, hungry hippo. Generally speaking, I have a huge sweet tooth and love all things cookies, candy and baked goods. For about the last week, all I want is SALT. I have been eating delicious dill pickle/cheese/mustard sandwiches at least once a day, with Pringles smooshed in the middle. I am disgusted with myself. I tried to eat a cookie today, and almost threw up. What is happening to me? I don't know, but I need a salt lick, STAT.

3. I am cranky. If someone even gazes in the general direction of my midsection, their head might be torn off. I hate to hide my tummy, but know how huge I look. I don't want one of my neighbors thinking I am 7 months along, because, honestly, we've lost a lot of babies. We are not ready to share (except with the Internets, apparently). It is so frustrating to be in pain, unable to parent as I usually do, and basically told that there is nothing we can do. I like solvable medical problems, and this has no solution... except time and (gag) Gatorade.

4. I am thirsty. (Seems like hippos are thirsty, always hanging out in water.) I am on a liquid restriction, which helps to avoid too much fluid in the cavity, so I am limited to 4 glasses of Gatorade per day. YUM. All I want is a steamed non-fat milk with vanilla or a diet orange soda. But nooooo.

5. I complain a lot. Okay, I don't know if hippos complain, but I sure did in this blog. FORGIVE ME! Am VERY grateful to be pregnant today, and hoping the baby stays for nine months!

I Wanna be Sedated

Okay, here we are, 3dp5dt (or, three days past a five day embryo transfer) and I am already freaking out. I am so worried (see Wemberly posts) that it did not work. I am finding myself with all this nervous energy, but I am supposed to rest a lot to help with the OHSS. I could seriously reorganize the whole house with these nerves! The other side of the nervousness is the snappy, intolerant attitude I have about almost everything.

I can't stop combing blogs for symptoms, success stories, and really, someone should take my laptop away. Or at least turn off the damn Wi-Fi. I have already emailed my favorite nurse asking if cramping was normal and if the OHSS going away meant I am not pregnant. She was very soothing, reminding me that cramps are quite normal, and the OHSS can come and go, or simply go, even if I am pregnant. She said she'd wondered if she'd hear from me today as she'd grown "accustomed" to my daily emails full of questions. I HEART her and must bake her cookies immediately. See what I mean about the nervous energy?

This about summarizes my attitude for today (and possibly until 8 am on Monday the 30th). You know the Ramones?

"Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated
Nothin' to do and no where to go-o-oh I wanna be sedated
Just get me to the airport put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can't control my fingers I can't control my brain
Oh no no no no no"

Meet my Alters

Does anyone watch "United States of Tara" on Showtime?* It is a fictional show about a woman with Dissociative Identity Disorder (or DID). It is funny and heart-wrenching all at once. She is a middle-aged mom played by Toni Collette, who just happens to have other "Alters" or personalities that help her cope with an unknown past trauma. They range from Alice, the perfect 50's housewife, to Buck, the Vietnam vet with a drinking problem. Her alters are all different sides of her, and come out without her control or knowledge.

Here's the scoop: infertility is making me get Alters.** I am firmly in my two week wait, two days after the five day transfer of two blastocysts. Or, for you crazy Infertiles: in the 2WW, 2dp5dt. Wow, that is a mouthful. Anyway, the whole process is really getting to me. I can't go out for a run, have a glass of wine, even take my daughter to the park to distract myself and reconnect with the rest of the world. I am finding myself feeling a bit off, maybe a bit crazy.

Allow me to introduce my Alters:

1. OHSS Alter: She is bloated, sore and nauseous. She is hoping the symptoms go away, but also hoping they don't because that could be a good sign of pregnancy! She likes to wear loose shirts to hide her massive girth and has no appetite.

2. Wemberly (The worrying fictional mouse)***: Brief glimpse into Wemberly's head, "Are the embryos okay? Should we have just transferred one? What if I don't get pregnant? Why do I have cramps? What if they are twins and they are premature? Or get HELLP? What if I have an incompetent cervix and we don't know it yet?"

3. Suzy Sunshine: She is nothing but smiles, and is sure she'll get pregnant. With those embryos, and all the confidence of the doctors, embryologist that we'll get a BFP, why wouldn't we?

Okay, so there you go. You've met my Alters. I tend to spend about 85% of the day as Wemberly, truth be told. I know it is neurotic, but now I am worried about unhealthy twin pregnancy at the same time as not getting pregnant! Someone, please knock me out until Beta on March 28th. For everyone's sake.

*I have nothing to do but read blogs and watch TV while on bed rest.
**No, not really. I am kidding... and not insensitive to mental health.
***Major credit to this post at Just Another Infertile which opened my eyes to my Wemberly-ness.

The Worry Begins

I am an anxious person. To anyone who knows me, this statement would draw a hearty snort and a "No, really?" I tend to obsess, over think and worry about things endlessly. After I read this post over at Just Another Infertility Blog, I thought, "Yes! I am Wemberly, too!" I worry about absolutely everything... and now the worry that this long, painful process of IVF won't work.

I know I should be all rainbows and sunshine since our first IVF cycle is going well, but the facts are over the last year, I have been the worst case scenario. I had three pregnancy losses, one after seeing our little daughter's heartbeat, and had my fallopian tubes removed. They told me at that ultrasound that very few pregnancies are lost after seeing a heartbeat twice, and I shouldn't worry. When I went back the next week, with a bad feeling in my heart, the ultrasound tech became very quiet and turned the screen away from me. I remember her saying, so clearly, "The baby is quiet now, honey. There is no heartbeat." I am not sure what it is about the possibility of a healthy pregnancy that causes me to relive these losses, but they feel very close by, looking over my shoulder, reminding me not to get too optimistic. We've spent lots of tears, time and dollars getting to this point, and I have this frightening feeling: This Is It. IVF is our only chance, and it still might not bring us a baby.

I had a nightmare last night was that I got a negative beta test, and was hysterically crying. I went to my RE's office and begged someone to let me start stims that same day. They blew me off, saying I had to wait a month at least, and they left me there, sobbing, desperate for some hope. I woke up feeling that loss could be right around the corner, could be coming in a couple weeks. That is a unique part of IVF: you put something alive, and growing inside of your womb. If it doesn't become a pregnancy, it isn't just, "We did not get pregnant this month." It is a loss in its own way.

I am going to acupuncture this afternoon with the most amazing, kind and relaxing woman. I am hoping it will help relax my body, get me ready for the embabies to come home (and maybe help with The Bloat). I know that being at peace would be a good way to be, but the pained voices that have been let down, hurt and lost in the past are making it so hard to be purely hopeful. But hope is there. And I want it to win.

*Thanks to my husband for making my blog look so spiffy and new! :)

Searching for Symptoms...

So today is Day 4 of stims and I am not feeling many side effects. I had a pretty bad headache yesterday, and am a teensy bit edgy, but other than that, I feel like a million bucks. This should be good news*, but being the overly analytical person I am, I can't help but wonder, (Carrie Bradshaw style): Why aren't I a raving, bloated hormonal mess?

I am going in for my first round of blood work and ultrasound tomorrow morning, and I am a little worried that my Follistim and Menopur are damaged goods and not stimulating the ovaries! I keep asking DH, "I did inject all of it, right?" The bruises on my stomach and empty vials should tell me, but really, I just need to be sure. I expected to be really bloated and hormonal now, and I am not.

I might have to kidnap a sonographer and get an ultrasound machine for my living room. Any voices of reason out there? Has anyone else had a similar situation while stimming?

*Lately, I seem to have a hard time believing good news until it is proven to me. Enter live-in ultrasound machine.

My Eyes are Up Here

Back in those young, carefree going out days, I recall (barely) the habit of men to not look at a woman in the face, but in the, um, chest. Not only do you feel like someone is not listening to you when their gaze strays lower, but it can be a bit offensive. I would occasionally say, before walking away, "My eyes are actually up HERE."

I am finding myself thinking this again. Not to interested men, in fact it is mostly women of child bearing age. Why would they want to check out my rack, you ask? No, no no. They are checking out my abdomen. For a baby bump. They are desperately searching for signs of pregnancy instead of just asking. 'Cause that would be rude! But staring at someone's not-swollen-with-baby-stomach is not.

Maybe I should print a shirt: "Not Pregnant Yet" or even "Still Barren". Thoughts? Are you ever assaulted with veiled questions ("Are you drinking? What about eating sushi?) by nosy Fertiles?

Infertility makes me crazy

Seriously nutty. This week has been really hard- waiting to find out if I can start next week, if the cyst has shrunk, how my E2 is. I feel like we've been waiting for something for the last 18 months. For my period to start, for me to ovulate, for the IUI's to work, for my surgery and finally to start IVF.

I am aware it is strange to WANT to inject myself, have more wild hormone adventures and shell out many thousand dollars for something with no guarantees, but here is the thing: it is our only hope.

Recent crazy behaviors*
1. Glaring at pregnant women, especially if they have three kids in tow.
2. Wanting to throw up in my mouth at the mention of Octo-mom.
3. Crying over pictures of my daughter as an infant.
4. Major eye rolling at the complaints of pregnant women who wanted a different gender.
5. Pretending for a second that my bloated birth control belly could be a bump.
6. Sneaking looks at maternity clothes, late at night, while eating M & M's.
7. Examining anyone with a child over one for a tell-tale baby bump.
8. Wanting to burst into tears when someone asks when we will "give" A a sibling.
9. Fist-shaking at celebrities like Nicole Ritche who seem thin AND extra-fertile.
10. Having the sneaking suspicion that I will be voted off the island for being unable to conceive on my own, Survivor style.

*I know that these behaviors are not always justified.

I am thinking that Crazy Infertile Behavior needs a home in the DSM-IV of psychology. Really, we should be diagnosable and easily identified. Maybe I should wear some kind of badge: "Lock up your chocolate, hide your bellies, here comes Crazy Infertile!"