I have to confess, I have been obsessing. I wanted so badly to be cool as a cucumber this month and not get caught up in the tantalizing hope that we might just conceive a baby this month. But, I have failed. Things seem to be going so well, too well perhaps. I mean, I am an educated person and I understand the general process of conception, we have made the attempt many months on our own to no avail. Now, just because we have someone telling us when to bump nasties, we could get pregnant? And yes, I understand that I was most likely not ovulating for the majority of the 19 months we were out there on our own, but I also know that I did ovulate on Clomid before and it didn’t work out as we had hoped. I am trying to reason with my poor, muddled, hormone intoxicated brain, to accept the fact that it could happen but it might not happen and there is not always a rhyme or reason for this. Call it fate, call it the will of God, call it luck, but whatever it is the action of creating life cannot always be coerced into occurring on man’s demand (or woman’s demand). I just keep giving my body a pep talk. Like, “Listen up little follicles your job is to be welcoming and accepting to a nice little spermy swimming your way. Invite them in for awhile. And fallopian tubes, just shoot those happy little follicles down into the warm and waiting uterus. Now, uterus you are all prepared for our little guests, so just tuck them in for the next 9 months.” I suppose this kind encouragement is better than all the mean things I have said to my body in the past 24 months. I have been rather unkind calling my uterus inhospitable and my ovaries useless and devoid of the essence that makes me a woman.
In the meantime, every little twitch every odd twinge, I swear “it” is happening. I hate this feeling of helpless desire, the feeling of having done everything correctly but still running to risk of an unwelcome outcome. My breasts have begun to ache, but I know this is the Clomid. The previous 5 months I took Clomid my breasts hurt so bad I wanted to rip them off of my body and fling them into oblivion. I am tired, but I know my broken toe is not letting me get a good nights rest (and I have never been a “good” sleeper, so sometimes it doesn’t matter what I do, I wake up several times per night). Sometimes I feel a slight pinch on my left lower abdomen (where I believe my ovary would be), but it is probably gas. My back hurts, but that is because my fancy broken-toe shoe is never the same height as my other shoe so I walk lopsided. I am peeing more often, but I am drinking a lot more water as per instructions from the nurse at the Fertility Clinic. I want to let go, just let go of all the past pain, of all the dashed hopes and broken dreams. I want to get wildly ecstatic and giddily start picking out baby items and finding maternity clothes. I want to make celebratory love to my husband, for once in over two years not thinking about getting pregnant. But, I cannot. I hold myself back, trying to protect my tender heart from yet another disappointment. So, I hang onto what little sanity I have until I know definitively what the outcome is.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Can you do it tonight?
Yesterday was such a hectic day. It started with yet another appointment with the Infertility Clinic, bright and early in the morning. They wanted to see if I had ovulated over the weekend or not. Getting blood out of my poor vein was not easy. I use my left arm because the right one does not have a great vein. It blew out when I was getting my wisdom teeth out (not great for someone who already despises needles). Anyway, after that trauma it was time for yet another ultrasound. There were still some follicles hanging out and it was not very clear when I would be ovulating. The hormone levels would paint a clearer picture. The nurse called me later yesterday afternoon and told me I was ovulating NOW and asked if we could "do it" that night. Well, sure we got up extra early to come to the office before I went to work (Flaco does not work Mondays or Tuesdays) and I had a meeting last night in Valley Forge (nearly an hour away) and wouldn't be home until 10-ish, but sure we'll get it on. . . . Which we did. And I spent the whole time trying to imagine the little sperms meeting up with the eggs. I kept mentally encouraging them and I imagined myself introducing sperm to egg. I willed our bodies to make a baby. How romantic! I go back to the office on Tuesday for the results meeting and to check on hormone levels again. I am thinking they will be checking to see if I am pregnant, but the nurse refrained from saying this directly. I am trying to stay hopeful.
In other news, from the explanation of benefit forms I have been getting, it appears that the insurance is covering the testing and office visits we have been doing thus far. So, we just pay our co-pay every time we go in and for the medication and the insurance is footing the bill thus far. I am so grateful for this, because it looks like the bills are already up over $1,500 and counting. And we haven't even done anything expensive yet! All the more reason for this month to be THE month!!!
In other news, from the explanation of benefit forms I have been getting, it appears that the insurance is covering the testing and office visits we have been doing thus far. So, we just pay our co-pay every time we go in and for the medication and the insurance is footing the bill thus far. I am so grateful for this, because it looks like the bills are already up over $1,500 and counting. And we haven't even done anything expensive yet! All the more reason for this month to be THE month!!!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Someone Else's Star
Below is a country song that I had stuck in my head last night and woke up singing this morning. It is a song performed by Bryan White, whom I was totally obsessed and in love with when I was about 15. If you replace the idea that he is singing about a lover with the idea of a baby, it pretty much describes the past two years of my life. . . .
Alone again tonight
Without someone to love
The stars are shining bright
So one more wish goes up
Oh I wish I may
And I wish with all my might
For the love I’m dreaming of
And missing in my life
You’d think that I could find
A true love of my own
It happens all the time
To people that I know
Their wishes all come true
So I’ve got to believe
There’s still someone out there who
Is meant for only me
I guess I must be wishing on
Someone else’s star
It seems like someone else keeps getting
What I’m wishing for
Why can’t I be as lucky
As those other people are
I guess I must be wishing
On someone else’s star
I sit here in the dark
And stare up at the sky
But I can’t give my heart
One good reason why
Everywhere I look
It’s lovers that I see
It seems like everyone’s in love
With everyone but me
I guess I must be wishing on
Someone else’s star
It seems like someone else keeps getting
What I’m wishing for
Why can’t I be as lucky
As those other people are
I guess I must be wishing
On someone else’s star
Why can’t I be as lucky
As those other people are
Oh, I guess I must be wishing
On someone else’s star
Last night a good friend told me she and her husband have began trying to get pregnant. They started in November but she was afraid to tell me because she knows about our struggles. I felt sad that she couldn't tell me but also somewhat relieved. Her husband is in the military and he will be deployed next February, so they are only trying until March because she does not want to "do it" alone. And even though she is new to the trying to conceive game, she has some of the same neurotic thoughts that I have. And while I am in the boat of just hoping it happens eventually and not trying to schedule when we will have our baby, she does not have that luxury. It would be the coolest thing ever if we both get pregnant this month, because we will be pregnant buddies and our babies can be friends!
I feel like yesterday's post sounded like I had completely given up the hope that we might be pregnant this month. I waver between trying to save myself the heartbreak and getting freaking insanely excited about the chance of it happening. In the end, I know no matter how hard I try not to think about it, not to dream the dream, if I get my period I will be crushed down to the depths of despair. One would think that after two years of this cockamamie roller coaster ride I would be more calloused and accustomed to the highs and lows, that I could laugh in the face of sheer disappointment. But, one would be wrong in this assumption. Each month hope blooms anew, slowly creeping inside and spreading more each day until the Big Let-down. Deep down inside I know we will have a baby. My fears dance around the unknown ("nothing to fear but fear itself") of how long it will take and what measures we will need to endure to have the baby. So, while I have not given up hope entirely, I have been learning there are certain things I can do to guard my heart. I don't let myself "go there" in terms of my thoughts and emotions when I see something that makes me think of my own inadequacies with fertility. I must try to stop living my life from cycle to cycle. In the beginning I stopped drinking my one cup of coffee in the morning, I wouldn't take any Aleve if I got a headache (and I am prone to headaches and migraines), and I wouldn't eat certain foods I heard aren't good for pregnant women, I even stopped cleaning the cat's litter box a few weeks out of the month (to my husbands chagrin). But, I can't put my life on hold in the process of trying to have a baby. So, I drink coffee and eat the foods I want. I take medicine when I need it.
Monday morning, bright and early, I go back to the Fertility Clinic for yet another ultrasound and blood test. I am nervous to see the out-come, to see if any of the six little follicles wanted to make a home in my uterus. Let it be, dear Lord, let it be!
Alone again tonight
Without someone to love
The stars are shining bright
So one more wish goes up
Oh I wish I may
And I wish with all my might
For the love I’m dreaming of
And missing in my life
You’d think that I could find
A true love of my own
It happens all the time
To people that I know
Their wishes all come true
So I’ve got to believe
There’s still someone out there who
Is meant for only me
I guess I must be wishing on
Someone else’s star
It seems like someone else keeps getting
What I’m wishing for
Why can’t I be as lucky
As those other people are
I guess I must be wishing
On someone else’s star
I sit here in the dark
And stare up at the sky
But I can’t give my heart
One good reason why
Everywhere I look
It’s lovers that I see
It seems like everyone’s in love
With everyone but me
I guess I must be wishing on
Someone else’s star
It seems like someone else keeps getting
What I’m wishing for
Why can’t I be as lucky
As those other people are
I guess I must be wishing
On someone else’s star
Why can’t I be as lucky
As those other people are
Oh, I guess I must be wishing
On someone else’s star
Last night a good friend told me she and her husband have began trying to get pregnant. They started in November but she was afraid to tell me because she knows about our struggles. I felt sad that she couldn't tell me but also somewhat relieved. Her husband is in the military and he will be deployed next February, so they are only trying until March because she does not want to "do it" alone. And even though she is new to the trying to conceive game, she has some of the same neurotic thoughts that I have. And while I am in the boat of just hoping it happens eventually and not trying to schedule when we will have our baby, she does not have that luxury. It would be the coolest thing ever if we both get pregnant this month, because we will be pregnant buddies and our babies can be friends!
I feel like yesterday's post sounded like I had completely given up the hope that we might be pregnant this month. I waver between trying to save myself the heartbreak and getting freaking insanely excited about the chance of it happening. In the end, I know no matter how hard I try not to think about it, not to dream the dream, if I get my period I will be crushed down to the depths of despair. One would think that after two years of this cockamamie roller coaster ride I would be more calloused and accustomed to the highs and lows, that I could laugh in the face of sheer disappointment. But, one would be wrong in this assumption. Each month hope blooms anew, slowly creeping inside and spreading more each day until the Big Let-down. Deep down inside I know we will have a baby. My fears dance around the unknown ("nothing to fear but fear itself") of how long it will take and what measures we will need to endure to have the baby. So, while I have not given up hope entirely, I have been learning there are certain things I can do to guard my heart. I don't let myself "go there" in terms of my thoughts and emotions when I see something that makes me think of my own inadequacies with fertility. I must try to stop living my life from cycle to cycle. In the beginning I stopped drinking my one cup of coffee in the morning, I wouldn't take any Aleve if I got a headache (and I am prone to headaches and migraines), and I wouldn't eat certain foods I heard aren't good for pregnant women, I even stopped cleaning the cat's litter box a few weeks out of the month (to my husbands chagrin). But, I can't put my life on hold in the process of trying to have a baby. So, I drink coffee and eat the foods I want. I take medicine when I need it.
Monday morning, bright and early, I go back to the Fertility Clinic for yet another ultrasound and blood test. I am nervous to see the out-come, to see if any of the six little follicles wanted to make a home in my uterus. Let it be, dear Lord, let it be!
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Ice, Ice Baby
So, the way I see it, the rotten, lousy groundhog got it wrong on Wednesday. Spring has never been farther away and today lends evidence to this statement. I had scheduled to have my 2 hour glucose testing done this morning at 7:45. If you recall, I tried to go last Saturday but didn't have an appointment and they kept taking everyone else ahead of me until it was too late to do the test. Well, I made this appointment before I broke my toe and was rendered unable to drive. I had to wake Flaco up to take me over to the lab. He was less than pleased because he also had to be up earlier than normal for him on Thursday and Friday (to take me to doctor appointments and work). To be fair, his schedule is different from mine. He usually works 10 am - 10 or 11 pm in a very busy restaurant. He sees my job as insanely easy (which, it is most of the time, but it does require a certain intelligence) and he works very hard on his feet all day. Anyway, we were quarreling as we went outside to the car to drive to the lab (about 15 minutes away). It was freezing rain and the sidewalk was extremely slippery. Unfortunately the roads were equally as treacherous and we never made it out of our neighborhood, let alone to the lab. I was so annoyed. But, I don't suppose you want to hear all about annoyance between the two of us.
I am in limbo-land. The place where all the meds have been taken, all the tests performed, and now it is just time to wait and let "nature" take it's course. We cannot control if one or more of the follicles will actually mature. We cannot force the mature little bugger out of the ovary and down the fallopian tube to some waiting sperm. And short of crossing our fingers and praying to God, we cannot shove a little spermy into one of these eggs and start cellular multiplication. Nothing we do will hinder or enhance the little egg-sperm from nestling into the uterine wall and continue to grow into our baby. I want nothing more than to end this Clomid Challenge a winner, with a bun in the oven. I have dreamt about it so often, sometimes I wake up in the morning and I swear I hear my baby crying for me. I see flashes of our "new" life; feeding the baby in the morning and then snuggling in bed with Flaco, taking baby to visit my parents on the farm, coming home to hugs and kisses, soothing our baby to sleep - so many little snapshots! Clearly, I need a hobby!
I am trying to stay sane with this nasty Clomid pumping through my veins. I am weepy and moody and the hot flashes continue. And now that I am stuck home with this lousy broken toe, I have nothing but time to think and troll the blogs. I just want to know, one way or another, if we will get pregnant this month. I hate to be so afraid to let myself believe that just another month on Clomid can give me my heart's desire. And while I have been intrigued by actually seeing my body during the ovulation cycle, it has also given me a whole other venue to obsess about. I keep envisioning the little blobs morphing into a pea-sized baby. Mentally, I talk to them, encouraging them to stick around for awhile. But, in the end I can do nothing but wait. . . . .
I am in limbo-land. The place where all the meds have been taken, all the tests performed, and now it is just time to wait and let "nature" take it's course. We cannot control if one or more of the follicles will actually mature. We cannot force the mature little bugger out of the ovary and down the fallopian tube to some waiting sperm. And short of crossing our fingers and praying to God, we cannot shove a little spermy into one of these eggs and start cellular multiplication. Nothing we do will hinder or enhance the little egg-sperm from nestling into the uterine wall and continue to grow into our baby. I want nothing more than to end this Clomid Challenge a winner, with a bun in the oven. I have dreamt about it so often, sometimes I wake up in the morning and I swear I hear my baby crying for me. I see flashes of our "new" life; feeding the baby in the morning and then snuggling in bed with Flaco, taking baby to visit my parents on the farm, coming home to hugs and kisses, soothing our baby to sleep - so many little snapshots! Clearly, I need a hobby!
I am trying to stay sane with this nasty Clomid pumping through my veins. I am weepy and moody and the hot flashes continue. And now that I am stuck home with this lousy broken toe, I have nothing but time to think and troll the blogs. I just want to know, one way or another, if we will get pregnant this month. I hate to be so afraid to let myself believe that just another month on Clomid can give me my heart's desire. And while I have been intrigued by actually seeing my body during the ovulation cycle, it has also given me a whole other venue to obsess about. I keep envisioning the little blobs morphing into a pea-sized baby. Mentally, I talk to them, encouraging them to stick around for awhile. But, in the end I can do nothing but wait. . . . .
Thursday, February 3, 2011
6 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed . . .
I know, random. It's been a random kind of day. This morning I went back to the Fertility Doctor for another ultrasound and more blood donation. I hobbled in on my crutches, nearly falling on the ice outside the door. For the first time in the past 3 weeks, there was another couple waiting when we went inside. I don't know why this bothered me, but it did. I mean, I know they have other patients, but for whatever reason we have never come across anyone else. On our way out there were another two couples waiting. All three couples we saw were young-looking (probably near our ages).
I managed to gingerly slide my mangled and bandaged foot into the stirrup, with the help of the nurse. The ultrasound showed 6 (thus the 6 monkeys jumping on the bed song popping into my head) follicles maturing. They are estimating I will ovulate this weekend and the nurse declared, "You are responding well to the Clomid Challenge." I wanted to ask for a gold medal (sense the sarcasm?). I was a little freaked out by the 6 follicles, but the nurse assured me that this was not an issue, since not all the follicles will mature into eggs. The human body is such a confuzzled thing! She also told us to have sex every day or every other day from now until Sunday. Flaco took his homework seriously and after some propping with pillows, we managed to get started on this mandate.
After the fun at the infertility clinic, we headed off to the orthopedic doctors office to get the foot taken care of. I got a sexy blue shoe which doesn't allow me to talk normally (it is flat so I can't push off with my toes). It still hurts a bit, so I still use the crutches. But, the toe should heal all on it's own and no surgery is needed. I was given an excuse to be out of work until next Thursday, so I never went into the office today. But, I am going tomorrow. What is the point in sitting around the house when I am perfectly capable of working? I cannot drive so Flaco will need to take me to work and a friend will bring me home. Sigh.
So, as I am relaxing with my foot propped up, catching up on the newest episodes of Bones and What not to Wear, the nurse from this morning called me. She said my hormonal levels are a little on the high side and that I should drink a lot of water. I might feel "a little full" in my lower abdomen. They will double check these levels on Monday. I really don't know what this means, but I am feeling fine (other than the toe, but that has nothing to do with my ovaries).
I don't know how I feel about all of this. I asked Flaco if he thought we would get pregnant this month and he doesn't think so. He thinks it will happen next month. I am optimistic - I mean we have follicles and they look like they are getting ready to pop on out of the ovaries. We just need to make sure they meet up with a few good sperm and then stick around to form a baby. I thought I would be over the moon with excitement because we have been getting nothing but good news thus far. Maybe I am just trying to keep myself calm and just take whatever comes our way. Well, maybe not 6 kids all at one shot . . . . Or, perhaps I am too weary to put my heart out there again and dare to believe that this month might be our month. I have been uncharastically calm to date. Maybe, breaking my toe was a good way to distract myself during this excruciating waiting game.
Although I tried not to, I looked up when my estimated due date would be and it is exactly a month after my 30th birthday (my birthday is October first, the estimated due date is November first). I know that it is totally jumping-the-gun-putting-the-horse-before-the-cart-counting-my-chickens-before-they-hatch kind of crazy, but I couldn't help myself. I have been dreaming about it for over two years now. Even longer, since I think I have always wanted to be a mother. Today when I was getting a prescription filled there was a little girl (older than one but not quite two) waiting with her mom who was getting her prescription filled. The little girl was playing with bottles of cough medicine. She was enthralled by me and my crutch, so decided I deserved a bottle of Robitussin. She even put it back when I handed it back to her. As her mother was herding her out of the store, she apologized to me. I told her not to worry about it, but what I was really saying was that interacting with a baby, even one I don't know, somehow warms my heart (even as it breaks my heart in the process).
My mom called me to see how the doctors office visit went this morning. I explained about the 6 follicles and the high hormone levels. I told her I was hoping this would be our month and she said, "We are too! We are anxiously waiting for a grandbaby!" She then told me that she caught my dad telling their cat, Oliver (he was a kitten from the barn who fell out of the hay mow and his mother abandoned him. He can't see very well and hardly at all. He is incredibly spoiled and very rigid in his routines), that they have to dote on him and give him all their love because they don't have a grandchild to spoil. This makes me sad, but we are doing all that we can do to give them a grandchild. We shall stay the course and march onward. At least until Monday. Think fertile thoughts!
I managed to gingerly slide my mangled and bandaged foot into the stirrup, with the help of the nurse. The ultrasound showed 6 (thus the 6 monkeys jumping on the bed song popping into my head) follicles maturing. They are estimating I will ovulate this weekend and the nurse declared, "You are responding well to the Clomid Challenge." I wanted to ask for a gold medal (sense the sarcasm?). I was a little freaked out by the 6 follicles, but the nurse assured me that this was not an issue, since not all the follicles will mature into eggs. The human body is such a confuzzled thing! She also told us to have sex every day or every other day from now until Sunday. Flaco took his homework seriously and after some propping with pillows, we managed to get started on this mandate.
After the fun at the infertility clinic, we headed off to the orthopedic doctors office to get the foot taken care of. I got a sexy blue shoe which doesn't allow me to talk normally (it is flat so I can't push off with my toes). It still hurts a bit, so I still use the crutches. But, the toe should heal all on it's own and no surgery is needed. I was given an excuse to be out of work until next Thursday, so I never went into the office today. But, I am going tomorrow. What is the point in sitting around the house when I am perfectly capable of working? I cannot drive so Flaco will need to take me to work and a friend will bring me home. Sigh.
So, as I am relaxing with my foot propped up, catching up on the newest episodes of Bones and What not to Wear, the nurse from this morning called me. She said my hormonal levels are a little on the high side and that I should drink a lot of water. I might feel "a little full" in my lower abdomen. They will double check these levels on Monday. I really don't know what this means, but I am feeling fine (other than the toe, but that has nothing to do with my ovaries).
I don't know how I feel about all of this. I asked Flaco if he thought we would get pregnant this month and he doesn't think so. He thinks it will happen next month. I am optimistic - I mean we have follicles and they look like they are getting ready to pop on out of the ovaries. We just need to make sure they meet up with a few good sperm and then stick around to form a baby. I thought I would be over the moon with excitement because we have been getting nothing but good news thus far. Maybe I am just trying to keep myself calm and just take whatever comes our way. Well, maybe not 6 kids all at one shot . . . . Or, perhaps I am too weary to put my heart out there again and dare to believe that this month might be our month. I have been uncharastically calm to date. Maybe, breaking my toe was a good way to distract myself during this excruciating waiting game.
Although I tried not to, I looked up when my estimated due date would be and it is exactly a month after my 30th birthday (my birthday is October first, the estimated due date is November first). I know that it is totally jumping-the-gun-putting-the-horse-before-the-cart-counting-my-chickens-before-they-hatch kind of crazy, but I couldn't help myself. I have been dreaming about it for over two years now. Even longer, since I think I have always wanted to be a mother. Today when I was getting a prescription filled there was a little girl (older than one but not quite two) waiting with her mom who was getting her prescription filled. The little girl was playing with bottles of cough medicine. She was enthralled by me and my crutch, so decided I deserved a bottle of Robitussin. She even put it back when I handed it back to her. As her mother was herding her out of the store, she apologized to me. I told her not to worry about it, but what I was really saying was that interacting with a baby, even one I don't know, somehow warms my heart (even as it breaks my heart in the process).
My mom called me to see how the doctors office visit went this morning. I explained about the 6 follicles and the high hormone levels. I told her I was hoping this would be our month and she said, "We are too! We are anxiously waiting for a grandbaby!" She then told me that she caught my dad telling their cat, Oliver (he was a kitten from the barn who fell out of the hay mow and his mother abandoned him. He can't see very well and hardly at all. He is incredibly spoiled and very rigid in his routines), that they have to dote on him and give him all their love because they don't have a grandchild to spoil. This makes me sad, but we are doing all that we can do to give them a grandchild. We shall stay the course and march onward. At least until Monday. Think fertile thoughts!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Calamity Jane
Before I get to any infertility related news, first let me recount what has happened to me in the past 24 hours or so. . . . Last night I was dashing out of our bedroom bound for the bathroom. I was wearing slippers and slipped while making the turn and slammed into the wall. My toes cushioned my impact. Unfortunately, there was nothing to cushion my toes. It hurt so bad I could hardly walk. Flaco taped the poor toe (hanging at an odd angle) to his neighbor. I didn't sleep well because the weight of the comforter on my toe. This morning, I briefly opened my eyes to check if the electricity was still on and noticed the comforting blue light on the Direct TV box. I briefly drifted back to sleep. Then, as my alarm was blaring in my ear, I heard a huge BOOM! At first, I was like, "Who is shooting off fireworks in an ice storm?!" Until I realized it was the transformer across the street. I had to do my hair and make-up by the light of a few candles. I nearly singed my hair trying to get the candle closer to my face so I could see! Since, I couldn't make breakfast (and we didn't have any cereal in the house) I went outside to clean off my car, which was thoroughly encased in ice. Trying to relieve the poor windshield wiper from the thick ice surrounding it, I accidentally broke the wiper. Broke it into 15 million pieces. Flaco had to take one from his car and put it on mine (he wouldn't need his car because he can walk the two blocks to work). I got to work fine, thank God.
Now, this is not the first time I have broken a toe. I am something of a klutz and have managed to damage my poor phalanges previously. It hurts. Taping the toes together and wearing sturdy shoes helps and after a day or so the pain lessens and you almost forget you broke your toe (until you stub it again). But, this time it hurt so bad, I could hardly walk. The pain was making my head hurt (probably from grimacing) and my stomach ache. But, worse than the pain, my toe was seriously pointing in the wrong direction and I was afraid if someone didn't "pop" it back into place it would forever be deformed. I'll admit it, I was thinking about wearing sandals with a deformed toe and was feeling pretty vain, so I decided to call my doctor's office. The doctor was not in the office today, the rude receptionist informed me. She suggested I go to the ER or an urgent care facility. I have been using quite a few hours of my "sick" time for doctors appointment lately, so I did not want to leave work early today. So, I just gimped around all day. After work I went to the urgent care center and was seen right away. I peeled off my winter boot and sock gingerly and the doctor picked off the tape. My toe had blossomed into a purple bloated monster, vaguely resembling my toe (although, my pedicure from a few weeks ago still looks very nice). She pressed a few places, asking if it hurt, then said I would need to get an X-ray to make sure my joint was not broken. The X-ray technician asked if there was a chance I could be pregnant. Boy, what a loaded question! I explained that while I was trying to get pregnant, I was not currently pregnant because I just saw the little follicles on Tuesday and they are still all snug as a bug in a rug in my ovaries. She let me see the X-rays right after they were taken, which was cool, and it didn't take a doctor to see the break. The second to last toe is broken right above the joint where the toe joins the foot. The doctor put on a soft cast so I can't walk and sent me home with crutches. Seriously. I need this like I need a hole in my head! Good news? The electricity came back on around noon and my husband's windshield wiper worked just fine on my car.
So, tomorrow I am returning to the Infertility Doctor for a blood test and for another ultrasound to check on the little follicles. Poor Flaco has to take me there and then to work. He will need to come get me after work too, since I can't drive with this cast on. I could take the cast off, but it looks to hard to get back on by myself. And with it, I am in a lot less pain. I will have to make an appointment with an orthopedic doctor to get the toe set and get a fancy boot cast. I wonder how I will get my damaged appendage into the stirrups tomorrow . . . . ? I am such a hot mess!
Now, this is not the first time I have broken a toe. I am something of a klutz and have managed to damage my poor phalanges previously. It hurts. Taping the toes together and wearing sturdy shoes helps and after a day or so the pain lessens and you almost forget you broke your toe (until you stub it again). But, this time it hurt so bad, I could hardly walk. The pain was making my head hurt (probably from grimacing) and my stomach ache. But, worse than the pain, my toe was seriously pointing in the wrong direction and I was afraid if someone didn't "pop" it back into place it would forever be deformed. I'll admit it, I was thinking about wearing sandals with a deformed toe and was feeling pretty vain, so I decided to call my doctor's office. The doctor was not in the office today, the rude receptionist informed me. She suggested I go to the ER or an urgent care facility. I have been using quite a few hours of my "sick" time for doctors appointment lately, so I did not want to leave work early today. So, I just gimped around all day. After work I went to the urgent care center and was seen right away. I peeled off my winter boot and sock gingerly and the doctor picked off the tape. My toe had blossomed into a purple bloated monster, vaguely resembling my toe (although, my pedicure from a few weeks ago still looks very nice). She pressed a few places, asking if it hurt, then said I would need to get an X-ray to make sure my joint was not broken. The X-ray technician asked if there was a chance I could be pregnant. Boy, what a loaded question! I explained that while I was trying to get pregnant, I was not currently pregnant because I just saw the little follicles on Tuesday and they are still all snug as a bug in a rug in my ovaries. She let me see the X-rays right after they were taken, which was cool, and it didn't take a doctor to see the break. The second to last toe is broken right above the joint where the toe joins the foot. The doctor put on a soft cast so I can't walk and sent me home with crutches. Seriously. I need this like I need a hole in my head! Good news? The electricity came back on around noon and my husband's windshield wiper worked just fine on my car.
So, tomorrow I am returning to the Infertility Doctor for a blood test and for another ultrasound to check on the little follicles. Poor Flaco has to take me there and then to work. He will need to come get me after work too, since I can't drive with this cast on. I could take the cast off, but it looks to hard to get back on by myself. And with it, I am in a lot less pain. I will have to make an appointment with an orthopedic doctor to get the toe set and get a fancy boot cast. I wonder how I will get my damaged appendage into the stirrups tomorrow . . . . ? I am such a hot mess!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The doctor says. . . .
This afternoon, before the impending ice storm entraps us in our house, we had yet another appointment with the Infertility Doctor. First, the obligatory vial of blood, then they performed a saline ultrasound. Now, generally when a doctor prescribes you a medication for pain, even if it is just extra-strength Ibuprofen, you kind of expect the procedure to hurt like H-E-double-hockey-sticks. But for me, it wasn't painful, just a slight cramp, not even as bad as a period cramp. I was more uncomfortable about the nursing student hovering in the corner (I think I mentioned before that I am not a fan of putting the hoo-ha out there for all the world to see - even under the guise of medical necessity). I am in the oh-so-familiar compromised position, feet firmly in the stirrups when they jack the table up into the air and tilt me back like some crazy slo-mo tilt-a-whirl. I suppose this was to better position me for the spec, tube, and water they were squirting inside. So, the ultrasound revealed that my uterus is empty which I guess means no fibroids or other abnormalities. The nurse assured me this is good news. So, it basically boils down to my inability to ovulate, which they are treating with Clomid (for now). The doctor and nurse counted 3-4 follicles developing in my ovaries and we are hoping these little suckers can squeeze past the cysts and find a nice new home in my (empty) uterus. Then the doctor muttered, "There is a chance of twinning," which reminded me of when we had sheep and they had lambs - I don't know why. . . . So, I go back on Thursday for another ultrasound and more blood (for the love!!!) to check on those little follicles. Then they will tell us when to do the nasty. In the meantime, we are crossing our fingers so that we do not lose power in what has been termed "the storm of the century." I think it is a little too early to start calling anything "the event of the century," considering we are only into the second decade of the century, although I suppose none of us will be around to see if there is another storm to top this one. . . . . Think happy follicle thoughts!
This round of Clomid has resulted in serious hot-flashes! I have been having a lot of my own personal summers. The dizziness hasn't been too bad and the headaches seem to have subsided. BUT . . . . The hormones! Holy Hannah Montana! Last night, I wanted to rip my husband to shreds, just for irritating me. Tonight, I could bawl my eyes out and I can't figure out why (other than the evil Clomid). I am crazy hormonal lady all over again. I did not miss this hot-mess-city last month (when I was not taking Clomid). All for the sake of filling my arms with our beautiful baby. . . .
This round of Clomid has resulted in serious hot-flashes! I have been having a lot of my own personal summers. The dizziness hasn't been too bad and the headaches seem to have subsided. BUT . . . . The hormones! Holy Hannah Montana! Last night, I wanted to rip my husband to shreds, just for irritating me. Tonight, I could bawl my eyes out and I can't figure out why (other than the evil Clomid). I am crazy hormonal lady all over again. I did not miss this hot-mess-city last month (when I was not taking Clomid). All for the sake of filling my arms with our beautiful baby. . . .
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