chart pt. 2

Just more charting for those fertility nerds who are into this stuff. I admittedly haven't been the best charter, but with the numbers I've continued to log, Fertility Friend has changed its estimate of my ovulation date to Day 13. As a reminder, last week it'd said my probable ovulation date was Day 17. If I strictly follow Making Babies guidelines, it would be Day 19.

In reality, I'm on Day 29, not 27. Not sure how I screwed that up. Oh, and I checked -- not pregnant. Not surprising.

There are so many problems with charting, especially if your hormones are whacked and even more so if you're a sometimes-insomniac. The only way to know for sure if I even did ovulate would be to have an ultrasound. We're still working out the kinks in our new insurance, so yeah. No doctor's appointments until that's all figured out.

I've started taking The Supplement That Shall Not Be Named (TSTSNBN) and I'm curious to see if it affects the chart during my next cycle. I've also just joined Weight Watchers.

*sigh*

charting

Here's my BBT chart this cycle ...

That spike actually happened on Day 20 but I messed up the chart, so yeah.

The Machine said my LH surged on Day 14, but I didn't get a temperature spike until Day 20. It makes me wonder if I am ovulating at all this cycle, and if I am if I'm ovulating a cruddy egg.

It's annoying.

Anyway. My order of Pregnitude (or as it shall henceforth be known, The Supplement That Shall Not Be Named) is due to arrive Thursday, and I'm sort of excited to see what it will do for me. It's supposed to improve egg quality, help induce ovulation, and help you lose weight.

Here's a link to an interesting post on myo-inositol, the active ingredient in TSTSNBN. Tell me what you think ...


**update** fertility friend thinks I ovulated on Day 17. This is in direct conflict with what Making Babies says, which is that ovulation has occurred once your temperature jumps at least .4 degrees higher than the highest temperature over the previous six days. That only appears to have happened on Day 19. Today's temp fell back down to 98.2.

meh

It's Day 15 and I've just reached my peak fertile hurry-up-and-bone day.

Yep. God only knows what all is happening up in my Lady Parts, but we certainly have a surge of luteinizing hormone, and that's something, at least. Our new insurance kicks in about a week and a half from now, and then I suppose I can go harass some more doctors about my defunct vagina.

Meanwhile, a number of irritating things are happening. Nothing major, just minor annoyances that add up to make me feel bitchy. I'm sorry this isn't one of those uplifting infertility blogs where the girl just keeps plugging away optimistically until her vagina is like, FINE BITCH, you can have a baby.

Nope. It's not. Because I let things get to me. Let's list them! All the things! Ok, here we go.

- Weight loss. Dudes. Losing weight is hard. I've been on this diet that's making me a little stabby. You eat a combination of lean protein and complex carbs SIX TIMES A DAY. Planning for meals on this diet is stressful. And I am not especially enjoying the food. Meh.

- One of my facebook friends who announced her pregnancy at the same time I was miscarrying this last pregnancy. Normally I find her funny and awesome, but now I am inexplicably irritated by her. Today she said she is going to Disneyland and will be 25 weeks pregnant at the time and asked what shoes she should wear. I don't think anyone is going to have anything particularly insightful to say to her about this. You'll be pregnant. Wear comfortable shoes, for godssakes.

- Pregnitude. Really, Pregnitude? Ya couldn't come up with a better name than Pregnitude? As if being infertile weren't already demeaning enough, companies come up with the most irritating names for their products. That said, I've just ordered a box of Pregnitude, since lately the internet has been singing its praises. Let's face it: I will try fucking anything at this point. 

- Exercise. Exerting myself is not my favorite. Yes, I am lazy.

- Cleaning the shower. Worst chore ever.

- Former infertiles who forget everything about what it was like to be infertile because now they have babies and everything's awesome. It's really not their faults, because I would be exactly the same way. Who wants to dwell on the past when now you have a baby? Let's just call this what it is: Jealousy.

- Do I plan a vacation or not plan a vacation? Is it presumptuous of me to assume I might be pregnant at the time of said vacation? Yes, maybe. Is it possible to take a vacation if I'm pregnant? Sure. Problems, though: I don't want to be sick on vacation, and I don't want to fly in the first trimester (advice from Making Babies), and -- oh yeah -- I don't want to miscarry on vacation. But I will hate myself if I don't go on vacation, so fuck it. We're going.

- Articles with headlines like: "Father's Age is Linked to Risk of Autism and Schizophrenia." There's no turning back time, folks! Time to throw the dice and see how they land.

I'm sure that is quite enough bitching and moaning for today. I hope to return shortly and report on the wonders of Pregnitude ...

please hold

Hurry up and wait is the order of the hour. It's a good news/weird news week.

For starters, my OB (the bitch with a capital C) is leaving the medical group I go to so she can be a full time mommy. How nice for her. That sentence wasn't dripping with acidic sarcasm. In opposite land.

Anyway, it's fine, because as I say, she's a total cuntwozzle and I am just gonna pick a different OB in the same practice. Probably.

Probably, because yesterday my husband's old company acquired his new company, and our insurance is going to change. Things can only get better in that department -- nothing can be worse than "We're sorry your vagina doesn't work, now here is zero dollars to help with that."

So in anticipation of better coverage, I canceled a physical I'd scheduled at the fertility clinic on Tuesday, along with a round of blood tests that would have cost a couple grand. I'm OK with waiting another month or so.

In other fertility clinic news, they keep having this ignoramous call me and tell me things, when she clearly has no idea what she's talking about. It's becoming grating. She called Monday to tell me one of the doctors says two miscarriages in a row does not equal "a pattern of miscarriages." In their world, perhaps. Anyway, because of that, they do not feel any additional testing is warranted. I didn't argue with her because as I said, she knows nothing. I'd planned to attack the NP doing my physical for information yesterday, but that'll have to wait.

Finally, I pored over Making Babies and upped my vitamin intake to the level the book recommends. I will probably ovulate this cycle, despite the miscarriage, if the CM I'm seeing is any indication. I'm seeing more than normal, and I can only attribute this to the vitamins. I'm taking a lot more folic acid, and I've added vitamin C, NAC, and coQ10 to the mix.

The ignoramous on the phone says they don't generally recommend trying to conceive again directly following a miscarriage blah blah I've heard it all before. I wonder if three miscarriages equals a pattern? Hm. I'm not interested in finding out but I also wonder if it's possible two miscarriages in a row really isn't a pattern and there's maybe nothing wrong with me. I can clearly get pregnant; staying pregnant is the trick. I'm still losing tiny bits of weight at a time and am down about ten pounds, so hopefully that helps whatever might be jacking me up.

In any case, that's what's up right now. There probably won't be much to report until we get the insurance thing worked out. Til then!

(insert curse word)

Since what Making Babies calls my "early pregnancy loss" and what others may term "chemical pregnancy" or the charming "disintegration":

• I ordered an ass-ton of new vitamins. Because what if vitamins are the problem? Sure.

• I rescheduled a physical with the fertility clinic. Blah blah I hate everything. 

• A woman from the clinic told me "we don't test for progesterone" when I suggested that might be the problem. She is dead now because I killed her. 

• I composed a list of tests I want done, including progesterone testing. I am bringing it to my next appointment. If they won't order them, I am blowing the place up. Which I think is perfectly reasonable. 

•  My dominating emotion this go-round has been anger, if that's not readily apparent. I'm a true joy to be around. 

• I'm still not talking about it. I don't want to talk about it. After the first miscarriage I talked the fuck out of it and now if I have to talk about it I might hurt someone. 

Yep.

Second verse, same as the first

I may have just had a beer, which is not on the Dr. A diet plan, but allow me to explain.

Last Tuesday, I was scheduled to have a physical with a nurse at the fertility clinic I've recently begun using. I woke up and took a pregnancy test, just in case. And it was positive.

This moment in time -- this two-pink-lines moment -- was such a sweet plink on my timeline. Good god, second pink line. You could not have arrived at a more fortuitous moment in time. You are saving me thousands of dollars in doctor's bills. You are the indicator of the son or daughter I fully expect to come tearing out of my vagina in nine months.

I woke up my husband. He was astounded. I went to the drug store and bought various different types of pregnancy tests. I tested a total of five times and got a positive result each time. So I bought a baby name book. We discussed plans for the nursery.

And, of course, I canceled my physical. The doctor's office wanted me to have a blood test to confirm the pregnancy, so I blithely headed to a lab for a draw that afternoon.

This is where the sequence of events becomes droll and irritating and grey and possibly even infuriating.

The doctor's office called me back. Yes, you are pregnant, they said. But your HCG level is only 28.

HCG levels are supposed to double or triple every 48 to 72 hours.

I tested again on Friday. They called on Saturday. Your HCG level is only 32.

I tested again on Monday. I started bleeding Monday afternoon. I took a home test and it was negative. The doctor's office called Tuesday and the HCG level was 8. I informed them that I already knew I was miscarrying.

What a fertility clinic will never call this (because they want to keep you as a client) is a chemical pregnancy. Christina says: I hate that phrase. I hate it, too. It's demeaning. It's a real pregnancy but the difference is it's never seen on an ultrasound. It's an early miscarriage. It's a blessing in one way; I won't have to spend any number of hours hunched over on a toilet this time. But it's absolutely still a miscarriage.

Miscarriages are what happens to other women. Two miscarriages in a row is what happens to other women who have shitty fucking luck; not you. God, or the universe, or whoever it is you think is looking out for you out there: He or She would never let this happen to you. You don't deserve it, certainly. It's not fair, at all. You'd be a good mom, your deity knows.

But there it is, draining out of you. Draining out of me, a bright red river. Again.

I'm not sure what I should feel, and I'm not sure what I do feel. I feel a swarm of things that are buzzing around my head, really, and when I pluck one out of the air it's often something like: Rage, self pity, helplessness, seething anger.

Whether I am allowed to feel strong emotion about an early miscarriage, I'm not sure. I do, though. I did. I will. I don't know, really. I am confused. They said You miscarry once, then you get pregnant again and it's fine, and it wasn't fine. No.

I told my family and a few close friends, but most friends I didn't tell. If you are one of them, I'm sorry. Maybe you are one of them but you'll never read this, and that's OK, too. I can't discuss this over and over and over with everyone. I know you get it, or hope you do. I wanted to be pregnant at the same time as my other friends who were pregnant and I can't talk to them about it. They'll read it here: Hi, girls.

The only option is keep going, keep going, keep going. The woman from the clinic on the phone talks of next steps and tests and appointments and money and I answer with a voice that's small in my chest and I know it's the only option. 

Things I needed to hear

We had our consultation with the fertility specialist, Dr. A, and we really liked him. I went in to the meeting feeling irritable and left feeling hopeful. So that's definitely something.

And that's despite the fact that he spent at least 20 minutes talking about how I need to lose weight. He said it in the nicest way possible, really. And it's not like it was surprising news. I'd been planning to ask Dr. A about how my weight might be affecting my fertility, in case he was one of these docs who's too embarrassed to discuss it. Turns out, he's not.

He pointed out that weighing too much can result in higher miscarriage rates and make it much more difficult to become pregnant in the first place. He said losing weight would double my chances of conception. So really, I have no excuse now. None.

Other highlights:

- I'll be having a number of tests run. They include: a physical, a heart check-up (I have an arrhythmia and enlarged heart valve), a bunch of blood tests to check hormone levels and for STDs, at least one ultrasound to check endometrial thickness, and probably a hysterosalpingogram and a hysterosonogram (which: yikes).

- My husband will donate more sperm to the cause even though we finally found out his motility and count are way above normal -- information my gynecologist mysteriously refused to tell us.

- Dr. A suspects PCOS. He says treatment would likely be metformin and clomiphene.

- Dr. A emphasizes eating of whole foods (not packaged), getting plenty of sleep, exercise, keeping caffeine and alcohol consumption fairly low, and limiting toxic exposure to stuff like pesticides, solvents, beauty salon crap, etc.

- Dr. A has freed me from lying around in bed, waiting for sperm to magically swim to the right place. For that matter, he's freed me from the missionary position. BAM!

-  Sex should be happening every 1.5 to 2.5 days mid-cycle. He says every day is fine, but he refrains from telling people that because he's worried they'll get divorced. Ha!

Finally, Dr. A says my "chances are excellent." I know we haven't run any tests yet, but I feel relieved and hopeful, nonetheless.