It's done

I bought a new bra and one of those bands. Yep, I did it. Yesterday I braved the fates and I bought what I desperately needed, and so now I am much more comfortable.

But that's not all I did. The Boy and I told people. Specifically, our families and some close friends of mine who were aware that we had been trying for a while.

It feels weird, and makes me really really anxious, as if by telling people I could super double jinx things. But at this point, after the test results and the number of weeks, we decided that it was time.

Of course then I panicked, because we hadn't been to the OB since the CVS test, and who knows what could have gone wrong. For at least three days I was convinced I had made a terrible error in telling people because I was sure that I had been leaking amniotic fluid since the CVS and that everything was over. As it turns out, I went in for my scheduled appointment on Tuesday and everything IS just fine, and I am 13 weeks today.

And next week, when my boss returns from vacation, I'm going to tell him and stop wearing oversized shirts and holding my stomach in. Because it doesn't feel good and is starting to not really work. And so then? Then I will be out for real.

Data

Here's how I know I am crazy: because every morning I am convinced that this pregnancy is over (or isn't) based on the number of hairs that fall out when I am washing my hair.

In the TMI category, I usually lose a decent amount of hair every morning when I wash and condition. But since pregnant? Pretty much no hair is falling out. So to me, counting the hairs that fall out is a reasonably accurate way to determine whether the pregnancy is still healthy. And so every day I start my day with this and so by about 30 minutes after I wake up I'm totally convinced one way or the other.

So today? 16 hairs fell out. That's more than double the average of 7 from last week. And that is b.a.d.

Now I know that's ridiculous. I know this, but yet I can't keep from counting every morning and comparing it to the days when I knew that the pregnancy was still moving along ok (that would be 2 weeks ago, prior to the u/s).

I have created a whole mystical, quasi-scientific set of reasons that I am not pregnant, and hair loss is one of them.

Other reasons I am convinced that I am not pregnant? Nausea, which was really very bad last week, has been better. About 50% better, so the "oh my god I'm going to vomit right this minute" bad of last week is more of a low grade queasiness and periodic gagging. I ate two normal meals over the weekend, which I had not been able to do for the previous 4 days. So what does that mean to me? That means that my HCG levels are falling, which means doom.

And my last piece of scientific (I like how I throw that around, as if any of this is really "data-based" and not just the ravings of a woman who has lost all touch with reality) evidence is that my TSH test from yesterday was still in normal range -- 1.85 vs. the 1.2 prior to the pregnancy. Now some might consider that good news -- the syn.throid is keeping things under control. But since the Dr had essentially said "pretty much everyone needs to adjust their medication during pregnancy" the fact that I don't have to means to me that there is nothing special going on that is requiring that my thyroid work hard at all.

Oh, and my cramping seems worse. Still no spotting, and still nothing that even feels like I am getting my period, but just more pinging/ stretching/ weirdness from down there.

(On the positive side, boobs have become sore and remained sore. But that is probably just due to all of the progesterone I am taking. So that doesn't count.)

The u/s is tomorrow afternoon (7w6d). I'm never going to make it. Seriously I have completely lost my mind.

My subconscious is out to get me

I'm clearly very very stressed out about this upcoming beta on Wednesday. Here's why:
a) many of my "symptoms" (e.g., sore boobs, uterine cramping, thirst) have disappeared and so I no longer believe I am pregnant. And frankly, I wasn't even convinced before, but I was willing to pretend. Now I just want to get the damn test over with.
b) I turn 40 in less than a month and I am going to lie in bed for days and cry if I am not pregnant. It is no shit stressing me out.
c) I have been an emotional basket case all weekend, and frankly kind of bitchy.
d) I did another AMH test recently (spurred on by the monitoring appointment from hell) and, whereas my test from a year ago was 1.3, I'm now down to 0.7. So I'm really running out of time and eggs.

So my subconscious is apparently also stressed out, as I had dreams this morning about a variety of ways that I might meet my demise in the next several days. I have to say, I was remarkably creative in the ways I envisioned expiring, but it was stressful all the same. The only one that has a real likelihood of occurring is being run over by a subway (and even that is not all that likely, based on the stats of how many people ride the subway every day and how rarely that happens by accident). But I woke up 2 hours before my alarm covered in sweat and then couldn't fall back asleep, because these dreams were so vivid that I could dwell on them even when awake. So it sucked. And I am tired. And I hate that I spend huge chunks of my life trying to do something that should be easy and that billions of people manage to do every year.

So to summarize, I was terrorized in my sleep by my brain that is predicting doom and disaster, I am turning 40 very soon, I am running low on eggs, and even my hypothetical symptoms of pregnancy have disappeared. Oh yeah, and it's Monday. Woo hoo!

I'm trying. I'm really really trying

Back to "no really, this could work" today. At least I'm trying to be back there.

Here's really where things are:
- my boobs are sore. So sore that I am tempted to throw a protective arm across them every time I walk, but I think people might look at me funny. Tomorrow I am wearing a sports bra.
- I've been crampy and bloated for the last 3 days. I feel like a macy's thanksgiving day parade balloon and wish there was some way to get the bloat out out out.
- Cramps the first 2 days were kind of sharp and now its more of a low dull ache.
- Thirsty all the time. Followed by having to pee all the time because of the oceans of water I am drinking.
- Moody. But what's new there?

But since all of these symptoms could be attributed to the progesterone I am shoving up into my nether regions, I've really got nothing to go on.

I went to acupuncture yesterday and she said that my pulses were strong and good and that in all of her evaluation of me there is really nothing that leaps out as a potential problem, nor does she think that I need to be taking any herbal supplements or anything -- overall she sees everything good. And the acupuncture helps me relax, so that's great. And it's a block from my office. Yay for things being easy for a change!

But the waiting? This waiting is driving me completely, no-kidding, absolutely crazy. I'm trying to breathe deeply, think positive thoughts and relax, but it. is. hard.

Frustrated

First, thanks to you for your many thoughtful comments on my last post - you gave me some good stuff to think about. In fact, I tool some of your very helpful questions with me yesterday morning when I went to the RE.

Pretty much the only thing that went right about the appt was that the bus came right as I got to the stop, so it was a quick commute at 700am on a Saturday. The rest, well, that was a shit show.

1) At my clinic, which is more and more reminiscent of the DMV, morning monitoring is done on a first-come, first-served basis. So you get there, fill out a little slip of why you are there, and then wait to be called by first name only (for privacy, of course). I checked the box "starting a frozen embryo transfer cycle." Then the crack receptionist looked at it and asked me why I was there, to which I responded "I'm starting a frozen transfer cycle today." And then, instead of sending me to billing to make sure I was all paid up (still no copay, people!), she told me to wait. While waiting, about 1000 people arrived. Then a nurse called me and said "why are you here?" to which I responded "I'm here to start an FET cycle, just like I checked on the sign in sheet." And then the receptionist wheeled around and yelled "You said you were here for your transfer." Ummm, no sweetie, that's not what I said, and I also checked off the fucking correct box on the stupid ass piece of paper you gave me, so if you bothered to read it, that should have prevented this misunderstanding before we started.

So then they sent me to billing. Behind the hordes who had arrived while I was waiting. Then the nurse calls me to do b/w, but I'm still in the billing line, so it's a whole big ordeal to get me to the front of the line before I go back, and it all sounds really petty and small, but it's 730am on a Saturday, and I am at a damn cattle call and I don't like it.

2) After b/w they sent me back to the waiting room to wait for an u/s room. And in walks a couple with their stroller and they park next to me. Yep. They brought in a small child (around 9 months, or so maybe) and that child immediately started screaming, so then was picked up and bounced on the lap of the woman next to me. Because that's what I want at the RE -- to sit next to a woman bouncing a baby on her lap.

3) I had my U/S (all clear) and then had to wait AGAIN to speak to a nurse to go over the protocol. By the time they called me, it was 830am. I got there at 720. I've been sitting next to a woman with a baby, and I'm not even going to talk about the couple across from me (it will make me seem mean and petty, so I won't share. But just let me say, it made it feel more and more like a bloody circus there. And not a good circus, but a kind where the clowns are all scary and you feel like you need to wash your hands.) So I get instructions that say "take lu.pron for 2 week and then come back and we will check up on you."

I thought it would be pretty reasonable to ask about the full protocol, just so I knew the dates, etc. The nurse gave me such attitude about how they really didn't need to do that now since nothing will happen until 2 weeks from now, etc. etc., that I was practically stunned into silence. But only practically, because I have a lot of questions, and I used this opportunity to share them all:

- I need to know the dates for monitoring and transfer, so that I can plan the rest of my life (including my new job) around this process

- why put me on a lup.ron protocol since it gave me a cyst last time?

- if we stay on this protocol, can I come in for monitoring before 2 weeks to check on cysts, so I lose less time if there is one?

- does this FET process really need to take a full 4.5 weeks? And why didn't we start on Day 2? I thought we were going as quickly as possible?

- Can you tell me the grading of the embryos that we have on ice? Can you be specific?

Now, I know that a lot of these questions are more appropriately for the RE herself (and the nurse was able to answer only the first), but was sort of at wit's end yesterday since I've tried to get the RE on the phone and couldn't do better than trading messages, so when the nurse refused to show me the embryology report, I pretty much lost my patience. I then waited more time to speak to "patient services" who really are just there to prevent people like me from publicly losing their shit.

So after unloading on patient services, I set up an appointment with the next avail RE in the practice for Tuesday. Alas, the Boy would rather speak to our RE, since aside from all of the BS, we really do quite like her. So tomorrow I will reschedule for my RE, and in the meantime, still take the lu.pron, and wait for transfer in mid-Feb.

Is it bad that the crazy has already come back to visit before I even started the lu.pron? That's probably not a good omen for the next few weeks....