Look at me. I'm blogging like a wild woman now.
I took Thing 2 to the grocery store a bit ago. That didn't go over so well. Remember I mentioned the morning/mid morning/afternoon/evening sickness... yeah.. that would be afternoon sickness. Which is really whipped into a frenzy in the produce aisle. ICK. I went with every intention of buying actual edible food. I bought pop tarts and the makings for s'mores. And chips. Lots of chips. It seems this pregnancy is going to follow a similar pattern as last time in that I won't be eating for the next nine months. Ah well... it was fun while it lasted. Food is really overrated.
When I explained to Thing 2 that pregnancy makes Mommy want to vomit, all the time, and it's worse in the grocery store at the moment, she proceeded to recite the grocery list over and over, emphasizing the eggs. She's adorable. Really. I'll take $5.
Needless to say I'm probably going to have a pop tart for dinner.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
oof....
I seriously do not remember my boobs hurting THIS bad ... EVER. OUCHY. Man looked at them this morning and it hurt.
Plus, I would have to say yesterday could qualify as the official start of morning/mid morning/afternoon/evening sickness.
It's just about 3pm today and I'm finally feeling not so nauseous. I am hungry, but no desire to eat anything. Nothing sounds good. I've eaten things even though I had no desire to eat it. I think starving to death is counter productive to the whole surrogacy thing.
Plus, I would have to say yesterday could qualify as the official start of morning/mid morning/afternoon/evening sickness.
It's just about 3pm today and I'm finally feeling not so nauseous. I am hungry, but no desire to eat anything. Nothing sounds good. I've eaten things even though I had no desire to eat it. I think starving to death is counter productive to the whole surrogacy thing.
yikes....
I suck as a blogger. I was abducted by aliens. Honest. They sent me back too. Said something like "asks too many questions..." something. Pansies. Request one simple anal probe....
Let's get to it. I'm pregnant. June 6th, transferred two lovely embryos. Apparently one (or more?) stuck around. Must have been that sticky fella that didn't want to come out of the tube. I worried though. To be totally honest, I think I still don't believe it. Our last surrogacy I got my first positive home pregnancy test (HPT) seven days after the transfer. This time, the seventh day passed with nary a line. I immediately wrote the whole thing off and started wondering when the next transfer would be. Yeah, I'm an optimist.
So I managed to convince myself that this time was going to be different anyway, and expecting the exact same thing was foolish. That was before getting another negative eight days after the transfer. That pretty much sealed the deal for me. Yet I kept thinking WAY back in the back of my mind, it could still work out. But, seriously, I man WAY BACK in the very back of my mind. Areas rarely used for thought. Cobwebs and whatnot.
Monday rolls around and it's the day we're leaving for the beach. Even though I had given up, I still had a billion dollars worth of HPT's in the cupboard. I did what you do on them and set it aside while I tried to look elsewhere. I checked the results prior to the full three minutes and had to do a double take. Now, the previous tests were all torn apart for proper analyzation. This one didn't need prying open. There was the faintest of faint lines, but it was there. I promptly stuck the test in a baggie and tucked it safely into my purse and commenced with beach packing.
During the two and half hour drive to the beach, I checked the HPT roughly eleven times. That line was there without any special vision enhancement necessary. Very exciting. However, being me... I wasn't convinced. I mean, this was two days later than last time. I proceeded to go through an extensive amount of HPT's during vacation. All the test result lines continued to darken in progression, leading one to assume the levels of HCG in my system were increasing properly. Still not convinced.
Finally the time came for the blood test. And yes, I tested on HPT's all the way up until test day. Mind you, the tests have all gotten as dark as they could... but I wasn't going to quit. "Pee Away" they begged me. So this past Monday morning, I woke up at 5:30am got ready then headed out for the clinic at 6am. It's not as bad as it sounds. Anyway, bloodwork done, home by 7:30am. I was home before anyone even woke up.
The nurse called me at 1:30pm with my Beta number, which was 226. I then proceeded to sulk since I was expecting a larger number, because once again, I was comparing this to the last time. I posted my number on my various surrogacy forums and everyone else seemed to think it was a fine number. I then started researching other peoples numbers and started feeling better about the number. In fact, there was a surrogate that had similar numbers and was carrying twins. GAH. We'll worry about that later.
Fast forward to Wednesday, another early appointment, blood test, nurse called at 1:30 again. What we're looking for is the number doubling. So in order for me to relax, the number had to be at least 452. Well it was 587. So the doubling time was less than 48 hours, which is good. Very good.
I'm now willing to call myself pregnant but I'm reserved about it. We have our ultrasound next week so we'll see how things are going for sure then.
Let's get to it. I'm pregnant. June 6th, transferred two lovely embryos. Apparently one (or more?) stuck around. Must have been that sticky fella that didn't want to come out of the tube. I worried though. To be totally honest, I think I still don't believe it. Our last surrogacy I got my first positive home pregnancy test (HPT) seven days after the transfer. This time, the seventh day passed with nary a line. I immediately wrote the whole thing off and started wondering when the next transfer would be. Yeah, I'm an optimist.
So I managed to convince myself that this time was going to be different anyway, and expecting the exact same thing was foolish. That was before getting another negative eight days after the transfer. That pretty much sealed the deal for me. Yet I kept thinking WAY back in the back of my mind, it could still work out. But, seriously, I man WAY BACK in the very back of my mind. Areas rarely used for thought. Cobwebs and whatnot.
Monday rolls around and it's the day we're leaving for the beach. Even though I had given up, I still had a billion dollars worth of HPT's in the cupboard. I did what you do on them and set it aside while I tried to look elsewhere. I checked the results prior to the full three minutes and had to do a double take. Now, the previous tests were all torn apart for proper analyzation. This one didn't need prying open. There was the faintest of faint lines, but it was there. I promptly stuck the test in a baggie and tucked it safely into my purse and commenced with beach packing.
During the two and half hour drive to the beach, I checked the HPT roughly eleven times. That line was there without any special vision enhancement necessary. Very exciting. However, being me... I wasn't convinced. I mean, this was two days later than last time. I proceeded to go through an extensive amount of HPT's during vacation. All the test result lines continued to darken in progression, leading one to assume the levels of HCG in my system were increasing properly. Still not convinced.
Finally the time came for the blood test. And yes, I tested on HPT's all the way up until test day. Mind you, the tests have all gotten as dark as they could... but I wasn't going to quit. "Pee Away" they begged me. So this past Monday morning, I woke up at 5:30am got ready then headed out for the clinic at 6am. It's not as bad as it sounds. Anyway, bloodwork done, home by 7:30am. I was home before anyone even woke up.
The nurse called me at 1:30pm with my Beta number, which was 226. I then proceeded to sulk since I was expecting a larger number, because once again, I was comparing this to the last time. I posted my number on my various surrogacy forums and everyone else seemed to think it was a fine number. I then started researching other peoples numbers and started feeling better about the number. In fact, there was a surrogate that had similar numbers and was carrying twins. GAH. We'll worry about that later.
Fast forward to Wednesday, another early appointment, blood test, nurse called at 1:30 again. What we're looking for is the number doubling. So in order for me to relax, the number had to be at least 452. Well it was 587. So the doubling time was less than 48 hours, which is good. Very good.
I'm now willing to call myself pregnant but I'm reserved about it. We have our ultrasound next week so we'll see how things are going for sure then.
Monday, June 8, 2009
keeping track....
Now, let's look at cold hard facts.
ETA: Egg retrieval was on 6/3 so that's my 'conception' date. So in doctor office terms, my LMP will be stated as 5/20. Today that makes me "technically" 2 weeks 5 days pregnant, with a tentative due date of 2/23/10. Yes I AM anal, thank you for noticing.
On Saturday, we transferred two embryos and they were 3 dayers. Which means it had been 3 days since they fertilized with sperm. Today I'm 2 days past a 3 day transfer. 2dp3dt. Congratulations, you've just learned surro speak. Now, I've been taking Del Estrogen for a few weeks now, a shot every third day. A week ago I started Progesterone, every day.
Today I feel nauseous. I don't really think it's morning sickness, I'd like to think that but I'm realistic. It could just be that the embryos do put off something, or the progesterone (even though it's been around a week and only NOW I'm experiencing issues), or whatever. Hell for all I know it's the hamburger for dinner last night. I just think it merits mention. And my salad for breakfast tastes funny. Somehow I think ANY salad for breakfast would taste funny.
I realize I'm delusional but it's fun to analyze every little thing. What the hell else am I supposed to do in this miserable wait?
ETA: Egg retrieval was on 6/3 so that's my 'conception' date. So in doctor office terms, my LMP will be stated as 5/20. Today that makes me "technically" 2 weeks 5 days pregnant, with a tentative due date of 2/23/10. Yes I AM anal, thank you for noticing.
On Saturday, we transferred two embryos and they were 3 dayers. Which means it had been 3 days since they fertilized with sperm. Today I'm 2 days past a 3 day transfer. 2dp3dt. Congratulations, you've just learned surro speak. Now, I've been taking Del Estrogen for a few weeks now, a shot every third day. A week ago I started Progesterone, every day.
Today I feel nauseous. I don't really think it's morning sickness, I'd like to think that but I'm realistic. It could just be that the embryos do put off something, or the progesterone (even though it's been around a week and only NOW I'm experiencing issues), or whatever. Hell for all I know it's the hamburger for dinner last night. I just think it merits mention. And my salad for breakfast tastes funny. Somehow I think ANY salad for breakfast would taste funny.
I realize I'm delusional but it's fun to analyze every little thing. What the hell else am I supposed to do in this miserable wait?
Sunday, June 7, 2009
think it's love....
I think I'm in love with this blogger format. I can adjust the text size. That alone nearly caused me to wet my pants. I still cannot get wordpress to load. This breakup won't be nearly as difficult as I imagined it would be.
stuff.....
I'm getting very lazy in my post titles. If anyone has suggestions, feel free.
So we ended up with 3 embryos. From the egg donor there were seven eggs designated for my IP's. Three of those didn't fertilize, one did but abnormally, and the remaining three fertilized (with my IF's sperm) just fine. We got the OK to transfer two embryos and that's what happened yesterday.
We had to travel a bit of a distance, and in the past, this trip has taken Man and I 3 hours. 1 1/2 hours spent on one 7 mile stretch.. going FIVE MILES PER HOUR. I joke you not. Plus, I was always in agony with my required full bladder. We always went during the work week. This time we got to go on a Saturday. Man insisted the trip would be much shorter. Was it ever. We left our house at 7:07AM and I signed in with the receptionist at 8:35AM. Weird dude. Well... I signed in on the wrong floor but whatever. I still made it in the building in record time.
I didn't have to be there until 9:30 with a 10AM appointment. Why I needed to be there thirty minutes early is beyond me. It hasn't ever taken me, in my entire life, 30 minutes to remove my pants and underwear. Honest. So, I get to the proper floor and check in again, and then hop in the chair farthest from people cause I'm all anti-social and get out my book. There were only two other couples in there, and being the nosy ass I am, I couldn't concentrate on my book. Instead, I'm busy trying to figure out are these people here for a transfer? Are they here for an egg retrieval? Is that dude going to go "leave a sample" in a cup? I want to know. I'm nosey.
Within roughly 10 minutes of sitting down, I'm called back. By 9:05 I'm sitting bare ass on the table waiting for the doctor to come in. I'm still sitting there forty minutes later. Listen, I'm all for having patience, but that usually works better when I'm fully clothed. I fiddled with the ultrasound machine, I twirled the stool, I attempted to peak under the cover over the instruments but I was afraid they'd make me wait longer to sanitize everything again. My book was in my purse but I had put it on the chair which was not within easy reach. Of course. Being quite accustomed to Murphy's Law, I opted to remain seated instead of pointing my butt skyward while I reached for my purse. I knew it would be at that moment the Doctor would enter the room... behind me.
Finally the doctor came in. After going over the embryos quality and what not, I assumed the butt-in-the-air position. Really makes me wonder why I didn't just grab my book earlier. What happened next almost made me laugh out loud. He said "I'm going to touch you down there" and "I'm now inserting the speculum into your vagina". Dude, WTF? Just do it. LOL Obviously, being a woman in my mid thirties, I'm aware of the area a gynecologist and especially a fertility doctor specializes in. Now should I be at the podiatrist and feel a speculum in my vagina, yes, in that case I'm going to have cause for alarm.
Here comes a breakdown of what transpired next, in real honest to goodness medical jargon. I swear......
He inserted a tube thing into my cervix, a nurse brought in a syringe like thingy with the two embryos in it and put it to the end of the tube thing. She then squirted the embryos in their embryo goo into the tube. Next they removed the tube to make sure there were no embryos stuck in it. And sure enough one had remained in the tube thing. Which meant we had to do it all over again, all the way back to the speculum assault. That time the sticky bugger came out of the tube thing.
Afterward, I had to lie there for five minutes. I have no idea why. I can only speculate at this time, and here's what I've come up with. After they shoot the embryos into the uterus, and pull the tube thing out, the embryos try to escape. Apparently, my laying flat on my back makes my uterus tilt in such a position that the legless and armless embryos are unable to scale Mount Uterus and make their way to the opening of the cervix. Meanwhile, the opening of the cervix, which has been stretched open a bit by the tube thing, slowly slams shut again, and it only takes five minutes to do so. Defeated, the embryos return to the back part of the uterus where they begin to devise another escape route. Only this one takes nine months to complete. It's just a theory.
I need to interject here a bit... because Man's uncle died on Wednesday, we were unable to leave one child with Man's mother. It wasn't an issue, so Man just dropped me off and he took the kids to find something to do. They ended up at the Burger King down the road which thankfully had a play place. A yard sale was also a part of their tour.
So as I'm getting ready to leave, I text Man to let him know I'm ready. I get down to the lobby, take a chair, and wait. After a minute I decide to call, thinking it may take a bit for the text to reach him. No answer, but his voice mail picks up. I text again. I call again. By this time I'd been waiting over 20 minutes. Finally I see them pull into the front and make their way around to the back parking lot. I head out to meet them, and Man is laughing as he pulls up. "I thought you were going to call" he says. "Uh, I called and texted you four times". His phone was OFF. Dumbass.
We somehow made it home yet again in record time. I was now officially on "bedrest" for 24 hours. Basically I got to do legitimately what I do everyday; which is lay around and fool on the computer. I was to stay on the couch or in bed, getting up only to go to the bathroom. Mission accomplished. I did get bored horribly, which is weird. When there's things I need to get up and do and just don't want to, I can be the worlds best lazy ass. But if I CAN NOT get up... it's all I want to do.
Today I opted to extend my bed rest. You know, to be on the safe side.
So we ended up with 3 embryos. From the egg donor there were seven eggs designated for my IP's. Three of those didn't fertilize, one did but abnormally, and the remaining three fertilized (with my IF's sperm) just fine. We got the OK to transfer two embryos and that's what happened yesterday.
We had to travel a bit of a distance, and in the past, this trip has taken Man and I 3 hours. 1 1/2 hours spent on one 7 mile stretch.. going FIVE MILES PER HOUR. I joke you not. Plus, I was always in agony with my required full bladder. We always went during the work week. This time we got to go on a Saturday. Man insisted the trip would be much shorter. Was it ever. We left our house at 7:07AM and I signed in with the receptionist at 8:35AM. Weird dude. Well... I signed in on the wrong floor but whatever. I still made it in the building in record time.
I didn't have to be there until 9:30 with a 10AM appointment. Why I needed to be there thirty minutes early is beyond me. It hasn't ever taken me, in my entire life, 30 minutes to remove my pants and underwear. Honest. So, I get to the proper floor and check in again, and then hop in the chair farthest from people cause I'm all anti-social and get out my book. There were only two other couples in there, and being the nosy ass I am, I couldn't concentrate on my book. Instead, I'm busy trying to figure out are these people here for a transfer? Are they here for an egg retrieval? Is that dude going to go "leave a sample" in a cup? I want to know. I'm nosey.
Within roughly 10 minutes of sitting down, I'm called back. By 9:05 I'm sitting bare ass on the table waiting for the doctor to come in. I'm still sitting there forty minutes later. Listen, I'm all for having patience, but that usually works better when I'm fully clothed. I fiddled with the ultrasound machine, I twirled the stool, I attempted to peak under the cover over the instruments but I was afraid they'd make me wait longer to sanitize everything again. My book was in my purse but I had put it on the chair which was not within easy reach. Of course. Being quite accustomed to Murphy's Law, I opted to remain seated instead of pointing my butt skyward while I reached for my purse. I knew it would be at that moment the Doctor would enter the room... behind me.
Finally the doctor came in. After going over the embryos quality and what not, I assumed the butt-in-the-air position. Really makes me wonder why I didn't just grab my book earlier. What happened next almost made me laugh out loud. He said "I'm going to touch you down there" and "I'm now inserting the speculum into your vagina". Dude, WTF? Just do it. LOL Obviously, being a woman in my mid thirties, I'm aware of the area a gynecologist and especially a fertility doctor specializes in. Now should I be at the podiatrist and feel a speculum in my vagina, yes, in that case I'm going to have cause for alarm.
Here comes a breakdown of what transpired next, in real honest to goodness medical jargon. I swear......
He inserted a tube thing into my cervix, a nurse brought in a syringe like thingy with the two embryos in it and put it to the end of the tube thing. She then squirted the embryos in their embryo goo into the tube. Next they removed the tube to make sure there were no embryos stuck in it. And sure enough one had remained in the tube thing. Which meant we had to do it all over again, all the way back to the speculum assault. That time the sticky bugger came out of the tube thing.
Afterward, I had to lie there for five minutes. I have no idea why. I can only speculate at this time, and here's what I've come up with. After they shoot the embryos into the uterus, and pull the tube thing out, the embryos try to escape. Apparently, my laying flat on my back makes my uterus tilt in such a position that the legless and armless embryos are unable to scale Mount Uterus and make their way to the opening of the cervix. Meanwhile, the opening of the cervix, which has been stretched open a bit by the tube thing, slowly slams shut again, and it only takes five minutes to do so. Defeated, the embryos return to the back part of the uterus where they begin to devise another escape route. Only this one takes nine months to complete. It's just a theory.
I need to interject here a bit... because Man's uncle died on Wednesday, we were unable to leave one child with Man's mother. It wasn't an issue, so Man just dropped me off and he took the kids to find something to do. They ended up at the Burger King down the road which thankfully had a play place. A yard sale was also a part of their tour.
So as I'm getting ready to leave, I text Man to let him know I'm ready. I get down to the lobby, take a chair, and wait. After a minute I decide to call, thinking it may take a bit for the text to reach him. No answer, but his voice mail picks up. I text again. I call again. By this time I'd been waiting over 20 minutes. Finally I see them pull into the front and make their way around to the back parking lot. I head out to meet them, and Man is laughing as he pulls up. "I thought you were going to call" he says. "Uh, I called and texted you four times". His phone was OFF. Dumbass.
We somehow made it home yet again in record time. I was now officially on "bedrest" for 24 hours. Basically I got to do legitimately what I do everyday; which is lay around and fool on the computer. I was to stay on the couch or in bed, getting up only to go to the bathroom. Mission accomplished. I did get bored horribly, which is weird. When there's things I need to get up and do and just don't want to, I can be the worlds best lazy ass. But if I CAN NOT get up... it's all I want to do.
Today I opted to extend my bed rest. You know, to be on the safe side.
stupid wordpress....
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For the umpteenth time in a short while, I've had problems getting wordpress to load. So I think I'm going to start blogging here. Seems logical really since this is blogger. And I'm blogging. We'll see.
BOO wordpress.. BOOOOO
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