GONE.
(picture me screaming here)
The IV antibiotics worked. I am stunned. And excited. Like jumping-up-and-down excited. This cycle might be the first realistic shot of getting a BFP that we've ever had. Except that I think my endo might have returned, but that's another story.
I talked to Dr. K. She said we'll give it three cycles. If we're not pregnant by then, a laparoscopy—my second one—is likely up next. I figured that would be the case. I'm okay with that.
But for now, I am hopeful. Like through-the-roof hopeful. :)
I have so much to write about and no time to do it in the near future as DH and I take a little vacation, but I couldn't wait to share this news.
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Sunday, July 15, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Three years of TTC
We are on cycle #30 of TTC. It's been three years since we started. That's a lot of TTC. And a lot of BFNs.
In some ways, IF has become comfortable—not enjoyable, mind you. I know what to expect. I know when I'll be extra sad or sensitive. I know when I can handle baby-related news with the greatest likelihood of having dry eyes. But I'm weary. Living with prolonged grief is emotionally draining. This third year of TTC has been noticeably harder than the prior year, probably because we've checked more and more things off the treatment list that haven't worked. I can see some good fruits that have come from this suffering. I know it has brought DH and me closer. I can sympathize better with others going through IF (like some of my clients) or anyone facing a difficult cross. As painful as IF can be, I trust that God will bring a greater good out of all of this. I may not know what that good is this side of heaven, but I know there is value and power in offering up this suffering. Without taking a more "eternal" perspective, I think it would be so easy to fall quickly into despair.
A good friend shared her BFP news with me recently. She was technically IF (according to NaPro's definition of six cycles) but never mentally crossed over...she hadn't been TTC "that long." She knew of our IF from the beginning and was supportive, offering frequent prayers for us. I tried to be happy for her, and in some sense I was. I am glad she doesn't have to delve deeply into the sad world of IF—either the emotional side or the medical treatment side. But when she told me the news my first feelings were ones of hurt. She waited until nearly the end of her first trimester to tell me. Why did she wait so long? I had spoken with her more than once since she would have learned she was pregnant and specifically asked about the latest in her TTC attempts each time I spoke with her. I guess I could see not wanting to tell "people" (in a general sense) until after the first trimester in case there would be a miscarriage, but I thought I was closer to her than that. I wonder if this self-pity is a by-product of IF. In my head I sometimes think others should feel sorry for me because I'm IF, so I also feel sorry for me. Now here's another opportunity to feel sorry for myself. I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. I have no idea what's it like to decide when to share news of a first pregnancy. I guess if it were me, I'd want prayers from at least a few others as soon as I found out...especially with an increased risk of miscarriage (which she has). Maybe she was trying to protect my feelings by waiting to tell me...although the manner in which she shared the news with me was not sensitive to an IFer, so I doubt protecting my feelings was the reason. If you're super excited by your pregnancy, that means everyone you tell is going to be super excited as well...including your IF-for-three-years friend. (I did manage a fair amount of excitement in my response.) Apparently I never shared with her how hard pregnancy announcements are...or I didn't repeat it enough times before she got pregnant.
With her pregnancy announcement, it really hit me how left behind I feel. Just since last summer, there have been six weddings among our friends. Five of those six are pregnant or recently gave birth. We were TTC before most of them even started dating. I try not to be jealous, but sometimes I can't help it. IF is so hard.
As for this cycle, against my better judgement, I have hope. ;) (although I completely forgot to take Clomid at the beginning of the cycle...oops) I used to think that the more hopeful I was in the 2WW, the worse I'd feel when CD1 arrived. I guess for the most part, it has been true. But last cycle, for whatever reason, I had very little hope that the cycle would end in a BFP—with a week of TEBB staring me in the face, clearly something is still wrong—so AF arriving wasn't a surprise at all...yet I still felt as sad (and cried as much) as any other previous cycle. So if I'm going to cry when CD1 arrives regardless of my hope level, I might as well be hopeful now.
Do I know if the IV antibiotics got rid of my TEBB? No.
Am I putting way too much stock in quasi-pregnancy symptoms? Yes.
I have no breast tenderness at all. This is a change from usual. I always have a little bit of tenderness post-peak. Well, I'm pretty sure I always have it. I stopped writing it down a long time ago. But I still pay attention even if it's not recorded on paper. This could be just my brain trying to over-analyze things in an attempt to convince myself I could be pregnant. It has happened plenty of times before, and I've been wrong every time. haha Hopefully all the fun 4th of July festivities will distract me. :)
In some ways, IF has become comfortable—not enjoyable, mind you. I know what to expect. I know when I'll be extra sad or sensitive. I know when I can handle baby-related news with the greatest likelihood of having dry eyes. But I'm weary. Living with prolonged grief is emotionally draining. This third year of TTC has been noticeably harder than the prior year, probably because we've checked more and more things off the treatment list that haven't worked. I can see some good fruits that have come from this suffering. I know it has brought DH and me closer. I can sympathize better with others going through IF (like some of my clients) or anyone facing a difficult cross. As painful as IF can be, I trust that God will bring a greater good out of all of this. I may not know what that good is this side of heaven, but I know there is value and power in offering up this suffering. Without taking a more "eternal" perspective, I think it would be so easy to fall quickly into despair.
A good friend shared her BFP news with me recently. She was technically IF (according to NaPro's definition of six cycles) but never mentally crossed over...she hadn't been TTC "that long." She knew of our IF from the beginning and was supportive, offering frequent prayers for us. I tried to be happy for her, and in some sense I was. I am glad she doesn't have to delve deeply into the sad world of IF—either the emotional side or the medical treatment side. But when she told me the news my first feelings were ones of hurt. She waited until nearly the end of her first trimester to tell me. Why did she wait so long? I had spoken with her more than once since she would have learned she was pregnant and specifically asked about the latest in her TTC attempts each time I spoke with her. I guess I could see not wanting to tell "people" (in a general sense) until after the first trimester in case there would be a miscarriage, but I thought I was closer to her than that. I wonder if this self-pity is a by-product of IF. In my head I sometimes think others should feel sorry for me because I'm IF, so I also feel sorry for me. Now here's another opportunity to feel sorry for myself. I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. I have no idea what's it like to decide when to share news of a first pregnancy. I guess if it were me, I'd want prayers from at least a few others as soon as I found out...especially with an increased risk of miscarriage (which she has). Maybe she was trying to protect my feelings by waiting to tell me...although the manner in which she shared the news with me was not sensitive to an IFer, so I doubt protecting my feelings was the reason. If you're super excited by your pregnancy, that means everyone you tell is going to be super excited as well...including your IF-for-three-years friend. (I did manage a fair amount of excitement in my response.) Apparently I never shared with her how hard pregnancy announcements are...or I didn't repeat it enough times before she got pregnant.
With her pregnancy announcement, it really hit me how left behind I feel. Just since last summer, there have been six weddings among our friends. Five of those six are pregnant or recently gave birth. We were TTC before most of them even started dating. I try not to be jealous, but sometimes I can't help it. IF is so hard.
As for this cycle, against my better judgement, I have hope. ;) (although I completely forgot to take Clomid at the beginning of the cycle...oops) I used to think that the more hopeful I was in the 2WW, the worse I'd feel when CD1 arrived. I guess for the most part, it has been true. But last cycle, for whatever reason, I had very little hope that the cycle would end in a BFP—with a week of TEBB staring me in the face, clearly something is still wrong—so AF arriving wasn't a surprise at all...yet I still felt as sad (and cried as much) as any other previous cycle. So if I'm going to cry when CD1 arrives regardless of my hope level, I might as well be hopeful now.
Do I know if the IV antibiotics got rid of my TEBB? No.
Am I putting way too much stock in quasi-pregnancy symptoms? Yes.
I have no breast tenderness at all. This is a change from usual. I always have a little bit of tenderness post-peak. Well, I'm pretty sure I always have it. I stopped writing it down a long time ago. But I still pay attention even if it's not recorded on paper. This could be just my brain trying to over-analyze things in an attempt to convince myself I could be pregnant. It has happened plenty of times before, and I've been wrong every time. haha Hopefully all the fun 4th of July festivities will distract me. :)
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