I'm a DD

So yesterday I wrote a whole post and then came back and deleted it. I just couldn't stand how whiny and depressing I sounded. Yes, I am still impatient about waiting for the surgery and frustrated that I haven't ovulated and antsy to get on with things and stagnant in my work life. But it's not going to make any of those things better to whine about them. And it's probably going to make me feel worse to wallow. And I didn't want to come back here and see those pathetic words staring at me. Or at you, for that matter. So I deleted.

When I was planning my wedding, I used to spend gobs of time on thekn0t.com and after the wedding, I spent gobs of time on thenest.c0m. On the Nest, women post about a sad/weird/freaky situation they are in, seeking advice from all the other newlyweds. Like someone suspecting their husband was cheating on them, or whose mother-in-law hated them, or who go fired from her job because she spent too much time on the Nest (true story. I think.). Whenever someone didn't like the responses they were getting to their post and would then delete it, they were labeled a DD* (dirty deleter).

When the infertility really started to become apparent, I stopped going to the Nest. I felt too old for it. And started going to sites like SoulCysters (a PCOS site). And then started coming here to IF-blogland. I gravitate online to like-minded souls, people who are in similar situations, who really understand. I hope I someday migrate over to some pregnancy or mommy oriented sites. Fingers crossed.

How did you guys end up in IF-blogland?

*Betcha thought the title referred to my b00bies! Unfortunately, they're more like an AA!

Things that are NOT happy

Grrr. Nurse just called. Most recent pap was abnormal. It's happened before; I am one of the lucky millions of women with HPV. But recent paps have been fine. Sigh. So at my post-op appointment, I have to have another colposcopy. Double sigh. Where can I sign up for a new body?

Twiddling my thumbs

I am trying to be a more patient person. But waiting for the lap so we can even begin to try seriously is just killing me. Plus I had held out hope (of course) that I would be the cliche who has to cancel the lap because she finds out she's pregnant just in time. But since I haven't even ovulated (read: bitter disappointment) that's obviously not going to be me.

But all is not so gloom and doom. Things that are happy:

1. My sister got engaged this past weekend! I'm so happy for her and can't wait to help her plan. Assuming she wants her bossy big sister's help!
2. Three of my friends had babies in the past week and all the babies are healthy. I really am happy for those friends, even though I'm also jealous.
3. Elephant fetuses (feti?).
4. India is cracking down on sex-selective abortion.
5. I'm going to Cancun with my in-laws at the end of March.
6. My in-laws are paying for it.
7. The deep freeze is leaving and it might be warm-ish this weekend.

Gosh, that list was a lot harder to compile than I would have thought.

yadda, yadda, yadda

I don't have a whole lot to say. Seems like I'm just living in this limbo state right now, waiting for the lap so I can feel like we're moving forward again. My RE told me we could try on our own this month, ha. It's hard to try when you don't really ovulate. I've been trying to convince my body that it ovulated these past few days. Even fudged my temps a little on fertilityfriend to get the line. And have been pushing my boobies to see if they are sore. They're not. And I'm sure I didn't ovulate. Why do I have such a crappy body?

I woke up feeling down today. I'm still bothered by a comment one of my friends made the other day. I'm sure you've all heard this particular brand of comment before. She was bouncing her 5-month old daughter on her hip, after telling me all about how hard/boring it is to be a SAHM, and then she says, "are you sure you really want one of these?". Actually, no. I'm just having the freaking surgery for shits and giggles. UGH.

I can't expect her to understand. She got pregnant the second month off the Pill. And I'm glad that she didn't have any trouble - I wouldn't wish this on anyone. But still. She knows all about what's going on with me. And she has another friend who's on her second IVF. So she could understand, a little. Yet we live in such separate worlds. I know I'm distancing myself from her. I can't help it.

"Are you sure you want one of these?" It just sounds so condescending. Like I'm some kind of desperate loser.

WOW. New PCOS study.

This is huge news in the PCOS treatment world. I tried metformin for 6 months, even though I am not overweight and did not have insulin resistance, just because it was the standard (though off-label) treatment. I am soooo glad I decided to take myself off it. See? It doesn't even work. And it made me feel so incredibly awful ALL the time. I hated Metformin.

Women Taking Clomiphene More Likely To Become Pregnant Than Women Taking Metformin, NEJM Study Says

Women who have polycystic ovary syndrome and take the drug clomiphene are more likely to become pregnant than women with PCOS who take the drug metformin, according to a study published in the Feb. 8 issue of the New England Journal of Medicine, the Washington Post reports (Washington Post, 2/13). PCOS is a hormonal imbalance that affects approximately 5% to 10% of U.S. women of reproductive age and is the most common cause of infertility in women. PCOS can cause a lack of ovulation, polycystic ovaries, irregular menstruation or missed periods, and clinical or biochemical evidence of high androgen levels -- such as facial hair or male pattern balding. Other symptoms include weight gain, insulin resistance and skin discoloration (Kaiser Daily Women's Health Policy Report, 8/31/05). For the study, which was funded by the National Institute for Child Health and Human Development, researchers from NIH and the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine enrolled 626 infertile women with PCOS in three groups. The first group took only clomiphene, the second only metformin and the third a combination of the two drugs. Researchers tested the women's progesterone levels to determine when they were ovulating (University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine release, 2/7). The women were asked to have sexual intercourse every two to three days, and they took the drugs daily for up to six months and stopped if they became pregnant. Sixty percent of the women who took both drugs ovulated, compared with 49% for women who took only clomiphene and 29% for women who took only metformin, the study found (Washington Post, 2/13). The study also found that 26.8% of women in the combination group gave birth, 22.5% of women in the clomiphene-only group and 7.2% of the women in the metformin group. Obese women were less likely to conceive and were less likely to ovulate when taking metformin, according to the study. Christos Coutifaris, director of the Division of Reproductive Endocrinology and Infertility at the University of Pennsylvania and lead author of the study, said, "The bottom line here is that ovulation does not necessarily result in a successful pregnancy," adding, "The results suggest that an ovulation due to clomiphene is two times as likely to result in pregnancy compared to an ovulation caused by metformin" (University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine release, 2/7).

Sadness with a side of eggwhites

Last night K caught up on the phone with one of his buddies from grad school who he hadn't talked to in a few months. And... (I'm sure you can already predict this), his wife is pregnant! Due in June! With twins! When K came downstairs after he got off the phone he just sat down and started watching TV without saying anything. I asked how his friend was, and he told me the news. I asked him if it made him feel sad. His eyes. They were so watery. We just held each other for a while. I think I sometimes forget that this affects him as much as it does me. Sigh.

On the bright side (warning: tmi alert), after obsessively checking cm the past week or so (we're talking close my office door so I can stick my hand down my pants obsessive), I observed a teensy amount of ewcm last night. Even called K into the bathroom to show him. See how insane this is? What normal person shows their husband these things? It's probably just an ewcm drive-by rather than the real deal, but I still get excited when I think my body is working anything close to normally.

decisions/ complaints

So I came across (who am I kidding, I was searching for it) a job opening today at a place I think I'd like to work. It's still research, but it's with a public health organization that provides health care to low income women and their families. Totally right up my alley.

The issues are:
1. Not wanting to burn bridges in academia
2. How can I even contemplate leaving in the middle of my postdoc (the amount of effort and $$ NIH has put into training me... the GUILT), see #1
3. Why would I make my life more difficult in the middle/beginning of IF treatment when my schedule is sooooo flexible now

Argh. Reading my list, I think I need to stick this postdoc out for now. And stop looking for other jobs. But, oh, the angst.

The other problem weighing on my mind today is our (old, Victorian, needs a LOT of work) house. We've put all the extra money we have into fixing the roof, the sewer line, and now our 3rd floor (new bathroom, new flooring, new windows, new electric, etc.). The amount that still needs to be done to this house is staggering. Pull up nasty carpets and tear off ancient linoleum to get to hardwood floors, which need refinishing; new kitchen (total gut job); many more new windows; new master bed/bath (again, MAJOR gut job); etc. I don't know where we thought we were going to have the money for all of this. It is feeling so overwhelming right now. I think we were on serious cr.ack when we decided to buy this house a year and a half ago. What do we do? Cut our losses and try to sell it without a new kitchen etc.? Stick it out and see it as a long term, decades long, project? Uuuuggh.

In IF news, lap scheduled for March 7. Anyone ever had one? I'm a little skeered of the whole surgery.

progress report

I have to submit a progress report for my postdoctoral fellowship. If I was being TOTALLY honest about what I do all day, this is what it would look like:

Dr. [Carrie] has completed approximately 5 months of her two-year research fellowship. During this time, she has focused on developing an infertility blog, preparing herself for infertility treatments, and spending an excessive amount of time reading a variety of infertility blogs and message boards online. In addition, Dr. [Carrie] adopted a dog with severe mental health problems, researched treatments for these problems, and then mourned the dog's death. Finally, Dr. [Carrie] has focused on renovating her old Victorian house that was probably a mistake to buy. She has actively participated in meetings with her contractor and worried about having enough money to both renovate the house and pursue fertility treatment. Her plans for the next year of the fellowship include getting (and staying) pregnant, deciding whether academia is really the best career choice/ researching ways to leave academia, and continuing to renovate her house. If these activities are not successful, she will continue to BS her way through the postdoc fellowship and submit an eerily similar progress report next year.

chasing squirrels in heaven

Last night, our poor sweet Reba was hit by a car and was killed. We had taken her to a friend's house - we were going out to dinner with our friends, and Reba was going to stay with their dog and their babysitter. The babysitter briefly let the dogs out into the fenced-in yard, and somehow, Reba escaped. We'll never know if she freaked out and tried to go find us, or if she saw a cat and was trying to chase it, or what exactly happened. Apparently she was still breathing right after the accident, but by the time we were able to rush back from the restaurant, she was gone.

We loved this dog so much. We adopted her from the Humane Society in the middle of November. She had severe separation anxiety (which is why we brought her to our friends' house in the first place). She had managed to chew out of a metal crate, and we had just purchased a new door for her second crate. She was on anti-anxiety herbs and freaked out in the crate whenever we left, whether it was for 10 minutes or several hours. But she had been getting a little better. She was able to wait in the car while we went into a store, which was a huge improvement. There was so much potential in this poor sweet pup. We will never know how much more we could have rehabilitated her. We always imagined we'd have many many years with her.

It breaks our hearts that she's gone. She was the most loving, loyal dog. She rarely barked, didn't jump, didn't beg. She'd follow us around the house and lay down wherever we were. She loved going for walks. LOVED going for walks. And we loved taking her. And most of all, she loved squirrels. And we picture her in heaven, chasing squirrels around to her heart's delight, free from all anxiety, free from all pain.

Dr. MyAge

So I met with the Dr. who will do my lap surgery. And he's MY AGE. I didn't think I was old enough to be thinking that doctors were looking so young these days. Not that it matters, of course. I'm sure he's a good surgeon. It's just so strange to be in stirrups, staring at the ceiling, talking to someone who you could just as easily have been talking to at a party.

Speaking of the stirrups, I had no idea there would be an exam involved in the consult. At this point I so willingly drop my pants, spread open, and let someone probe around in there without a second thought. And since I was overdue for one, I asked him to do a Pap "while he was down there". As though he was running an errand for me.