Now, as I said previously, Dan wasn’t initially a big fan of this whole idea. So I asked (read: forced) him to answer a couple more questions in order to try and get an idea of what was running through his head during this time:
September 3, 2013. My Dad’s birthday. Also the first day of our next frozen embryo transfer cycle.
Although we continue to bounce the ‘what’s next?’ conversation around, I have decided to try and focus on growing my uterine lining! Yes, that’s what I want to focus on.
Today is the ‘random’ start date for my next cycle as I don’t have any natural cycles. Mentally, I’m in a pretty good place. I’m excited to start again, hopeful the drugs are going to work this time in a (sort of?!!) timely way, and that this is going to end with a positive beta test. I am literally dreaming at night of how we will find out that it is positive- peeing on a stick, the phone call from the clinic, how to tell my family, who are we going to tell, and if I’ll just burst out crying because of the great news! But I also find myself struggling… How much optimistism is good? If I focus on the great news, the baby bump, the baby shower, the newborn pictures… will it just hurt even more if it doesn’t work? On the flip side, moping around assuming it won’t work isn’t going to be doing myself any good either. Is there such thing as a happy medium? (Literally.) Dan says to focus on small steps, so step one is to start the estrogen pills again and pray that my lining starts to thicken up.
The goal is over 18mm. I’m sitting at about 10mm when I start. The good news is that the docs have learned that nothing is easy with me, so they start me, right off the bat, with a good dosage of estrogen. They start me off on 6 pills daily (12mg), 3 in the morning and 3 at night, all vaginally. Wonderful. I’m back to being a smurf with blue pills.
The other thing we are giving a shot this round is acupuncture. I have done a lot of reading and several fertility and medical studies have proven that fertility acupuncture has been shown to have positive effects during IVF and FET cycles. At this point, I’m willing to try anything.
There is a clinic that specializes in infertility not far from the fertility clinic so I called and made an appointment. The practitioner is an MD from China and was the deputy Dean of the Chinese School of Traditional Medicine in Beijing. He came very highly recommended so I walked into the clinic on the first day of my new cycle. Not really knowing what to expect, I was pleasantly surprised that he was very well versed in fertility. He asked all the right questions about my cycles, the meds, the dosages, and checked me out from head to toe. He instructed me to lie down on the bed and turned on ‘relaxing’ Oriental music in the background. Honestly, I was half laughing in my head as this really isn’t my thing, but if there is even a chance it would work, then I’m at least giving it a chance.
The guy took my pulse and said I was too agitated to start so he would come back once I had calmed down. Uhhh… ok Adele, calm down. Ten minutes later, he walks back in and re-takes my pulse. Apparently, I had settled enough for him and he asked me to close my eyes and focus on the music. He proceeded to put little needles in the tops of my ears, my ankles, my feet, and all around my abdomen. In all, there were more than 25 needles now sticking out from various parts of my body. He put a basket covering my needle ridden belly and then covered me in a heavy blanket and told me he’d be back. He gave me a mini doorbell to ring if I needed anything and then he left the room.
Generally, each time you had to lie there for about 30 minutes. It was weird. I was lying in this dark room with random ‘calming’ music in the background and supposed to be relaxing. All I could think about was if this was all BS or if it actually worked… Cause if this was BS, he was sure putting on a really good show.
After 30 minutes, a small bell would ding outside my room and he would come in and pull all the little needles out. I have a bleeding disorder so then I would have little pinprick fountains of blood trickling from various points in my body that I would try to stop with random pieces of kleenex. I looked like a 14 year old guy learning to shave. You honestly have to chuckle at the stuff I’m now willing to do if there is even a slight chance of success. At $87.00 a pop, acupuncture was my new way to get another 30 minutes of sleep after fertility. For the rest of my cycle, I proceeded to go about three times a week. Another $261.00 a week was peanuts compared to the amount I was paying for the meds and the actual procedure. To be clear, none of which we really had at this point, but if I was in for an inch, I’d be in for a mile. Oh, poverty induced by my fertility…
As my cycle progressed, the Chinese Doctor would calculate whatever special formula he had and moved the the little needles around my stomach like little soldiers preparing for battle. It was a relaxing time for me to decompress and try not to think of strategy for my next meeting I’d be prepping for.
In typical fashion, my f*ing lining didn’t thicken up as quickly as it was supposed to. You’d think by now, I’d expect that. But each cycle I’d have a renewed sense of hope that the doc would have figured out my random medically puzzling body. Alas, not yet. After CD 5, I started daily monitoring appointments again. I was driving 40 minutes for blood work and transvaginal ultrasounds each morning as a mini wake-up call. Trust me. This gets old. Very fast.
CD 18 I was finally at 18mm. My lining had never got thicker than this, but the clinic assured me that there was no benefit to being any thicker than this. Once you hit 18mm, the chances of success were equal to that if I was at 19mm or 23mm. Okay, it’s almost time.
We added in Progesterone suppositories again on CD 18. The clinic decided to do things a tad different this time and they gave me the rectal ones. Wonderful I thought, but the benefit was that I didn’t have time out all the various pills to shove up there at different times. These ones I could put in the same time as the estrogen. These turned out to be a life saver. These didn’t make any mess at all and once they were in, you didn’t have to worry about anything until it was time to do it again. If you told me I’d be bragging about how awesome the rectal suppositories were compared to the vaginal ones just a short year ago, I would have been asking what institution I was committed to. Oh, how things change.
I am now on 4 estrogen pills vaginally in the morning and 4 at night, plus the progesterone suppositories morning, noon, and night. Oh yes, this is the ‘easy’ cycle compared to IVF, but they sure keep you busy. My hormones are raging and I’m hvaing every early pregnancy symptom out these plus menopausal ones to boot. I spent my days dressing in layers so I could strip down at any time when I was hit by a hot flash.
September 26th was to be the big transfer day. I booked special acupuncture appointments for before and after my transfer as the Chinese doc told me to, and I was getting ready.
The closer I got to the transfer date, the more worried I became about our back-up plan. I needed to have some sense of control over this, and the back-up plan was my control. I made Dan promise that before the transfer, we would sit down and hash out all the pro’s and con’s of all our options if this round didn’t work- then pick an option. We shook on it and planned a date. The Sunday for the transfer he promised me would be dedicated solely to fertility/life planning.
I was happy. Two more days until our planning date and four until the transfer. I started saying extra prayers that the back-up plan was going to be nothing but wasted time when we got our positive beta, but felt good knowing that we would have it ‘all figured out’… whatever that meant.
Breathe in. Breathe out. My new motto.