6 weeks, 1 day.

According to confusing medical calculations I'm six weeks and one day pregnant.  At this point in a pregnancy the doctor hopes to see a yolk sak, growth, and a heart beat.  We scored all three this morning at our ultrasound appointment.  Our little blasto is becoming a baby; currently it's the size of a seed.  H and I are thrilled (and relieved) to see progress.  I'm now eagerly awaiting our next appointment - in exactly two weeks.

Day 43 6 wks 1 day	Day 44 6 wks 2 days	Day 45 6 wks 3 days	Day 46 6 wks 4 days	Day 47 6 wks 5 days	Day 48 6 wks 6 days	Day 49 7 wks
Wed, Feb 27	Thu, Feb 28	Fri, Mar 01	Sat, Mar 02	Sun, Mar 03	Mon, Mar 04	Tue, Mar 05
Baby's crown to rump length is 4-6 mm. Baby weighs about 0.4 grams	Baby's brain begins to form and cranial nerves are formed.	Baby is C shaped now and has a tail.	Moms may be experiencing mood swings and/or irritability.	Baby's placenta development begins.	Baby's eyes, ears, mouth, nose, lip, tongue, and teeth are forming.	Moms should expect to have blood work done or scheduled at first prenatal appointment.
Day 50 7 wks 1 day	Day 51 7 wks 2 days	Day 52 7 wks 3 days	Day 53 7 wks 4 days	Day 54 7 wks 5 days	Day 55 7 wks 6 days	Day 56 8 wks
Wed, Mar 06	Thu, Mar 07	Fri, Mar 08	Sat, Mar 09	Sun, Mar 10	Mon, Mar 11	Tue, Mar 12
Baby's crown to rump length is 8 mm or 0.30 inches. Baby weighs about 0.8 grams.	Mom may notice changes in skin pigmentation during pregnancy.	Baby's bones begin to form.	Baby's mouth, nose, and lips are recognizable.	Baby's sex glands appear.	Moms may find acupuncture helps with morning sickness.	Baby's fingers and toes are present, although they may still be webbed.

Although I'd welcome them, I'm lucky to still have very few pregnancy symptoms.  I sleep a little more than usual (but, then again, I sleep more than the average bear as it is).  And my bras are getting a little too small (TMI?).  But, other than that, I'm feeling well.  



It's been a long road already, and there are many more miles to go, but with each day and every ultrasound it gets a little easier to be excited.  H and I can't believe our good fortune - that we got a pregnancy on our first round of IVF.  But, we also know it isn't just luck that got us here - we helped each other, we had a good doctor, supportive family and friends, and I'm sure to thank God and Sweetie, in my prayers, for the role they played in this miracle of life.

Angels

When I was little, there was a small plaque in my bedroom with the following prayer:

Angel of God,
my guardian dear,
to whom God's love commits me here,
ever this day,
be at my side
to light and guard,
to rule and guide.

I used to recite the words when I fell asleep at night.  I knew that prayer long before I knew Hail Mary and other commonly known prayers.  Thinking of angels brought me comfort.  I guess I've always believed in them. 

Not too many days ago, my treasured grandmother Sweetie passed away.  She'd been battling Scleroderma for over a decade.  She was often in pain and her life had changed drastically.  I marveled at her will to live, but also sometimes wondered why she didn't more easily go to be with her beloved husband, my Papa, in heaven.  Sweetie and Papa were devout Catholics and my first role models for the importance of faith.   They married young and raised four children.  They celebrated over 50 years of marriage.  They were an amazing couple.  They defied the odds with dignity and love.  Even though I know she longed to be with Papa again, perhaps Sweetie was waiting for just the right moment to give her strong, invaluable spirit to someone else.   I wonder if perhaps she held on to her life just long enough to pass some of her soul on to the new life in me.  Was that God's plan?  It just might have been.  Her passing coincides almost exactly with the moments when new life was forming in me.  H and I have a little embryo that has been a fighter, beating the odds,  just like Sweetie.  I can't help but think it isn't all coincidental; it's providential too.

This little baby embryo surely has an angel in heaven just for him or her.  I will forever thank God for that guardianship, even though right now my heart aches over the loss of my dear grandma.  I've loved her, with all my heart, for my whole life.  I miss her already, but will do my best to be strong despite the grief.  Now more than ever I want to meet the little person who I believe will carry on some of Sweetie's best qualities - love, perseverance, and faith.  I am trying to push all that worry I've been talking about aside and beginning to trust that this new life is in the hands of God and in those of a new angel.  I have renewed hope, it's been a common theme in this blog, it's gotten me this far, and it is also Sweetie's name.  Here's to Hope.


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A seed has planted.

Another appointment today ... another ultrasound, another beta test.  H and I arrived by 8am, I had my blood drawn (three vials) by 8:15am, and we were in the ultra sound room shortly there after.   All seemed routine on the monitor (less fluid, fuzzy screen, etc) - but then the doctor pointed out a small black dot.  "We can't confirm it yet, but that looks like a gestational sac,"  she said.  H and I looked at each other with glee ... we sort of marveled over the little spot where our baby will grow.  

(this is someone else's black dot; looks strikingly similar to mine though)

 It was comforting to see the good news and have some reassurance in the morning, as I'd wait until 4pm for my beta results, which thankfully more than doubled again.  All seems to be going well.  I keep wondering when I'll feel confident enough to allow myself to think about pregnancy things (maternity clothes), new baby stuff (nursery), and all the other plans that go along with parenthood.   For now, I mostly focus on the present... and presently, the embryo is about the size of a sesame seed.

Worry outweighs Happy.

It's been a long week.  On Monday, I developed a severe case of bloating.  My stomach was larger than I thought humanly possible.  On Tuesday, it wasn't much better.  My vigiliant husband suggetsted I contact the doctor's office.  The nurse determined I should come in for an ultrasound.  To H, and to her, it seemed as though I had a condition known as Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome (OHSS).  My appointment was Wednesday morning.  Since that was just two days before the previously scheduled Friday pregnancy test, they said I could do that on Wednesday as well.

 

(my stomach looks and feels a lot like this)

At the appointment the doctor confirmed that I have OHSS.  In short, my ovaries are overstimulated and are secreting fluid all over the place.  My case is mild, but it is something they'll keep an eye on ( more ultrasounds!).  In all, I was at SGF for about an hour - out by 9am.  Then the wait came - the blood is sent to a lab, the lab sends the results to SGF, and SGF calls me.  Our call came at 2:30pm.  "I have good news," the nurse said, "You're pregnant!"  H and I had her on speaker phone.  I started crying and couldn't speak.  H seemed stunned and wasn't speaking either.  It was awkward.  I'm not sure we reacted the way she expected.  I managed to tell her thank you and sorry for not talking because I was overcome with emotions.  My mom, in town for a few days, was just a few feet away listening to the call too.  She walked over to give us a hug.  The nurse continued, and gave us our beta number (this is measured every couple/few days).  I heard her say they hoped for a level of 100 and then I don't remember much.  I got the gist-  mine was higher than that and I am pregnant.  I hugged H, cried and said, "We did it."  Then, almost immediately, the joy (and I was over joyed) passed.  Fear set in.  Will the pregnancy last?


Since then, I've been a stress case.  I didn't exactly dream of that moment that someone would utter - "You're Pregnant" (always keeping my expectations in check), but I did at least think I'd be on cloud nine if someone did say that.  In reality though, I'm anxious.  The anxiety is compounded by the fact that I don't feel pregnant - at all.  I have no signs, don't have any symptoms, and other than the bloated stomach and stress, I feel pretty normal.  I'm desperate for this blasto baby (or whatever stage it is now) to hang out in  me and then this world for a good long forever and am wondering when I can stop feeling nervous and start being excited.

It's Friday, another ultrasound and blood test for me.  The fluid is down.  But, more importantly (to me, anyway), my Beta is up.  Today it is 641.  While the nurse was on the phone I asked what Wednesday's number was (since I forgot to listen) - it was 294.  They like to see the number at least double, so we're doing well so far.  I have another blood test on Monday and probably another one sometime after that.  Maybe I'll feel less nervous about being excited after we see a heart beat.  I'm hopeful and happy, I promise, there's just a lot of other concerned emotions too.

Enjoy the holiday weekend everyone.  I'm glad to be entering it on a high note. 

A melted heart can't be broken.

Valentine's Day is fast approaching.  It isn't my favorite holiday, but I do like seeing all the red and pink everywhere.  The many heart sightings got me thinking - about my H and how sometimes he says something, and it feels like my heart just melts.


(http://ohhappyday.com/2013/01/tree-heart-installation/)

Like last Sunday, when I was done lounging on the couch for the day, I headed to bed (I took lazy Sunday to a whole new level).  While I was going down the steps I got an idea.  I paused to be sure I was out of sight to H who was still sitting on the couch.  Above me was the ledge where the embryo photo had been sitting.  I took our little photo and pretended it was a puppet.  I picked it up, shuffled it back and forth, and then the puppet said, "Hey!  Hey you!"  I peeked to see if H had turned his head.  He had, so the puppet continued, "Um, I was wondering... do you want to be my Dad?"  I was giggling by this point, so I peeked again to see if H was smiling too.  When I do something wacky he usually just laughs and tells me I'm crazy.  For a second, I wondered if I shouldn't be joking around with our blasto baby photo because H wasn't laughing.  He simply replied, in the most sincere tone, "Yes, I'd like that very much."  I put the puppet down, popped back out of sight, and teared up for a second.  This was one of those times when he says something and it makes my heart melt.  When I felt more composed I looked back at H and said, "I'd like that very much too."


(my puppet talked kind of like this muppet)

What H has shown me, over the last few months especially, is that I really hit the husband jackpot.  Awareness of this gives me a lot of peace while we wait for our news because I believe, deep down, that he and I will be okay no matter what.  We'll get through whatever news we get and at the end of this journey, either way, I'll have H.  Will bad news make me sad beyond my wildest nightmare?  It probably will.  But, will my heart irreparably break?  I don't think so.  H (and our family and friends) will be there, to help keep it feeling whole.  I try to remember this each time I get scared.



No one gets a perfect life.  Mine certainly isn't.  I wouldn't wish infertility on my worst enemy.  I've learned, however, that despite this hardship I  can seize the opportunity to see the good above all else.  Some days that's easier than others.  Next time I'm down, I'm going to re-read this post.

Where will the time go?

I need a plan.  Just two days into the two week wait, my mind is already restless.  This morning, I've come up with some goals to help me get through the days.

Goals:
1.  Do not read blogs or forums re: early pregnancy symptoms.
(This can really mess with my mind - desperately seeking signs leads to nothing more than torture)

2.  Do not take an early pregnancy test.
(It may be positive, it may be negative; but, I'm not really going to believe anything until the doctor tells me so)

3.  Read this book.
(I'm told it'll make me laugh)

4.  Finish this project.
(Clearly it still needs some work)

5.  Make some dinners.
(H and I will do this together so I'll look forward to coming home to cook)

6.  Go back to work.
(As long as I'm productive and focused)

7.  Plan home improvements for my mom's visit next week.
(Pretty sure it's going to be project window treatments)

8.  Go to the new Courthouse movie theatre.
(You get to reserve your own seats!  Those who know me, understand the importance of this, since more than a time or two, I've ditched sitting with friends, so that I can sit middle seat, middle row at the movies)

9.  Try Yoga
(This is H's idea.  I'll give it a whirl and hope it doesn't bore me to tears)

10.  Learn photoshop
(This may also require I take the camera out - need warmer weather please!)

11.  Have positive thoughts
(esp about our embryo)

 This is a good start, but I'm accepting any and all ideas should you have one.

Make a Wish.

It's Super Bowl Sunday, better known around here as Transfer Sunday.  Our morning started off with an update from the doctor.  We had one embryo make it to the blasto-cyst stage.  The other three have stalled.  It isn't likely they'll make it much further and aren't (as of today) good candidates for freezing.  We'll know for sure on Tuesday.  We were surprised to hear that, but it isn't unexpected.  It's also part of the reason we waited five days; to find the most viable embryo.  On a happier note, our blasto-cyst is as good as can be expected.  Grade AA, the doctor said (H called it organic, free range).  It was recommended, and we agreed, to only transfer one embryo - our all star. 

I was expecting the transfer to start off rocky, given how the mock trial went.  But, thankfully, this doctor had no trouble at all getting my testy cervix to cooperate.  The transfer is done through a catheter.  H and I could watch it enter the uterus on the ultrasound.  When the doctor was sure the catheter was positioned well, he asked the embryologist to enter the room with our blasto baby.  The embryo was in a straw like contraption that was placed into the catheter.  Liquid carries the embryo and the doctor launches it out of the straw and into my uterus.  The embryo is too small to see, but when the liquid exits it looks just like a streak of light.  Weeks and weeks of preparation and worry and excitement and a whole list of other emotions went shooting out into my uterus in less than five seconds.  The doctor asked if I saw it ... the shooting star.  "Yes", I said, "and I made a wish."

Afterward, I had to lay there for 5 minutes before I could get dressed and leave.  H  held my hand and laid his head on my stomach.  We feel a connection to our little blasto baby.  We want the best for it.  We will have to wait at least two weeks to find out what's next for our family.  In the meantime, we have to remind ourselves that we've done well, come a long way, and tried our best.  We're proud of our journey and of our embryo, no matter what.

(my view from mandatory bed rest - a magnetized photo of our little star)

I think the embryo wants a fruit shake.  Time to place an order with H.  Bed rest isn't so bad!  Oh, and go Niners!

Voice mail

Ever since cell phones became all the rage, I've been really terrible about keeping mine with me and/or keeping it charged.  I'm not a person who spends much time on the phone.  I never cared much if I had my cell on me or not.  Having an iPhone has helped - love the apps (still not wild about talking on the phone).  When IVF started, and the highly anticipated calls were coming almost daily, I became much better about having my phone handy.  Until yesterday, that is, when I walked out of the office with my iPhone still on my desk.  H offered to bring me back to grab it, but figuring the nurse calls have been coming at 1130am as of late, I didn't think it was a big deal.  I'd be to work in time to receive the call.  Wrong.  Of course this is the morning that our doctor phoned.  She left a voice mail at 8:37am.  Shoooooot!  Voice mail is the worst because you miss the chance to speak with the doctor directly (and I've alluded to how giddy that makes me - see "And then the doctors came.") and you don't get to ask all the questions that have been on your mind.



Such is life; maybe I can dump my questions on the nurse later.  Here's a transcription of our doctor's message:

"Hello [M] and [H].  Just wanted to call and say hello.  It's Dr. X.  I am thrilled your embryos are still doing lovely.  We want to see that they are developing and today they should be a minimum of six cells.  So, we have three embryos that are doing outstanding; one's a six cell, one's a seven cell, and one is an eight cell.  All three of those are grade one top quality embryos   The fourth embryo has gotten a little delayed, it was a three cell yesterday, it is still a three cell today.  But, I'm thrilled for the three that are developing well.  This will hopefully give us the ability to be able to select the single best embryo for transfer on Day 5.  I hope you're both well, just wanted to give you the update and this is wonderful news.  We'll catch up soon.  Bye bye."

There you have it - that's the latest.  I imagine that our three growing embies are jumping for joy at the chance to be a life.  I wish I knew the end of this story, but I have at least two weeks of waiting left.  Until then, I'm keeping this vision in my mind: