1 Year Ago...

...this was a very busy and monumental week. A year ago today, Sam and Anna each went from a single egg and sperm to a creation of rapidly dividing cells. A year ago today was my egg retrieval. By this time in the evening, Sam and Anna had started growing. Five days later, Sam and Anna (and their sibling) looked like this:

(Our first baby picture)

Reflecting on this today brought all sorts of choked-up-mommy-moments. Reading Guess How Much I Love You as our bedtime story made me tear up at the last line- "I love you right up to the moon- and back." I won't deny that Sam and Anna got quite a few extra snuggles and kisses today. I know I would do anything to have them back then, and I would do anything for them now. I'll never forget my infertility story that made their appearance in my life a possibility, but today it was a little more in the forefront of my mind amid diaper changes, crying babies, and formula bottles. A year may have gone by, but those emotions and experiences are anything but faded.

My egg retrieval was in the early morning, and it went pretty well. I remember feeling somewhat surprised at how relatively good I felt, considering 22 eggs were harvested from my body. I even felt up to going to the local firework display that night. It was the next day that OHSS hit and I was in crippling pain for a few days- surviving on the couch with OTC pain killers that barely made a dent. As the week went on, we were given the news that only 3 eggs fertilized and would make it to transfer. 3 out of 22 was a sobering number- but not surprising, since our problem was the ability of my husband's sperm to fertilize my eggs. We were very gung-ho to transfer all 3, but expected our RE to be a bit more conservative and suggest 2. To our surprise, he suggested transferring all 3. This IVF was truly our Hail Mary then, because there were no blasts to freeze- and no money to have a try-again IVF cycle. This was it. Our only chance at biological children.

I won't deny that I sometimes think of the one embryo that didn't implant. Although triplets would have been more than we could handle, I wonder sometimes if that other embryo was a boy or a girl. I wonder which one in the picture we have was the one we lost (and also in that vein, which one is Sam and which is Anna). I wonder what that child would have looked like, or do when they grew up. I wonder where that embryo fits in.

I think I will always quietly celebrate this day as a sort of second birthday/creation day for my children. July 5th will always hold a special place in my heart. It was the day that God's plans for us became more than just a promise of good things to come. Sam and Anna were baptised yesterday (more on that later), and although it was just a coincidence that the dates were so close together, I find it very meaningful that almost 1 year to the day that God gave us Sam and Anna, we had their baptism. It's hard to find a better way than that to say "thank you" for making your dreams come true.

Reflux Hell

About a week ago I had a post about our babies reaching a "colic" stage. Their crying has been increasing since then (especially Anna) so I took her to the pedi after we became more and more suspicious that her colic was really bad reflux. I was hoping for meds to help stop the incessant sound that happened all day long. Witching hour? I wish. When I read about babies having a bad period of day, it made me jealous. The pedi agreed that she had reflux, and asked us to try a different formula until Monday, and if we didn't see improvement, over the phone she would give us a prescription. (She said over the phone because both babies cried the entire time we were in the exam room, and I was by myself. It was so awful I can't find the words to describe how horrible that was.) We tried to give Anna the new formula a few times but we had a few issues- first, the nipples wouldn't work with the thickened formula, and once we fixed that problem, we discovered that Anna wouldn't drink it. So we stopped attempting it and were resigned to waiting until Monday.

Meanwhile, Anna's screaming reached a whole new level between Friday evening and Saturday. She literally cried 24/7. It was no longer just most awake moments, but it was keeping her from sleeping. It was keeping her from eating. We tried calling Saturday morning, but was told that our pedi wasn't the on call doctor so we couldn't get a prescription then and would need to wait until Monday. My poor baby took one decent nap all day, and that was only because she was in the Sleepy Wrap. All other "naps" were interrupted frequently by crying bouts. My little girl was in so much pain from the acid burning in her throat, that she couldn't sleep. While she had vomited a few times in the past week or so, on Saturday, she vomited a bunch of times. You have no idea what it is like to hold your screaming one month old for hours and hours, smelling the rancid smell of acid on her breath constantly, hurting so much for her. So we called again, and asked when it would be considered bad enough that we needed to go to urgent care. The nurse suggested that if she had cried for over an hour straight, she would go. My little girl had been crying for hour-long jags all day long. Off we went to the ER.

Once at the ER, we didn't get much help. Thankfully Anna was not dehydrated and she did not have a high temperature, so they didn't have an immediate concern. The ER doctor wanted us to come back in the morning to get a GI xray done (since it was 9 pm on a Saturday night- I guess the right people to perform the xray weren't there) to rule out pyloric stenosis. Apparently pyloric stenosis is rare, but more common when there's a heart murmur. If Anna had that, she would need surgery to fix it. We headed back this morning, Anna had the barium drink, got the xray and short version: does not have pyloric stenosis (I didn't think so after consulting Dr. Google when we got home from the ER last night, so I wasn't overly concerned). So she most definitely has severe acid reflux. They sent us on our way, and now we are just getting through the minutes trying to get to Monday.

Sam's reflux is not as severe, but he definitely has it too. His level of discomfort has been increasing too.

One baby with reflux is really hard. I remember reading all about Blair's adventures in Reflux Hell a few months ago. Two babies with reflux- especially when one of those is as severe as Anna's, is insane. My husband call his mother in tears yesterday asking if she could drop everything and come stay with us for a while- because when you have two babies constantly crying that need to be held nobody ever gets a break. My husband and I were crying off and on all day. We were past the breaking point.

I can say that today is better though. My most-amazing-friend-ever came for a few hours after I placed a hysterical phone call so each of us could get a small break. I used earplugs to get a glorious nap in silence. My husband's mother should be here within an hour. We don't know yet how long she can stay. The doctor's appointment will be tomorrow, and although I know we won't get an instant, magical cure- it is still helping me see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know this won't last forever. I have gone through a lot of tough things, and I can get through this too.

Meanwhile, although this blog has been my sanity-saver, I don't think I'll have much time to post when there are two babies that need to be constantly consoled and held, so I may not blog much until some relief is found for my babies. I hope to be back with good news very, very soon!

Waiting around for Wednesday

I had intended to post a more detailed account of the egg retrieval Sunday when I was feeling better. However, I failed to realize that it would take days to recover. I, unfortunately, have not been one of those people for which the retrieval was a breeze. Here it is already 3 days later, and I'm still in a lot of pain, uncomfortable and stuck sitting around the house (read: very, very bored).

So I'm going to ease my boredom and give you the full account, even if I still feel like crap.

Sunday was not the best day to have an egg retrieval. I needed to get up at 4 am to make it to the clinic at 6:45 am. That meant we did not go see fireworks so we could try to get enough sleep. Our neighbors had other plans, and continued to shoot off fireworks until at least 2:30 in the morning. Add that to general trouble sleeping because of nerves and we barely slept at all.

Once we arrived, the nurse brought us back to the recovery room and prepped me for the retrieval. I changed into a gown and climbed into the bed. She went through the release instructions, hooked me up to the monitor, and started my IV. It was my first IV ever, and I was happy to find out that it hurt a lot less that the needle digging I had gone through lately for the blood draws. Dr. S had some monitoring u/s to do for other women before we got underway, so I waited for a half hour in that state. I was doing ok- maybe a little nervous, but more ready to get going. By the end of that half hour of waiting, I started to have a little more anxiety though. During that time, the embryologist came in and introduced herself and let us know she would call that evening to tell us how many mature eggs there were.

Then the anesthesiologist came in and explained his role (but honestly, I didn't really retain much of what he said). Dr. S came back with the nurse and she helped me walk through the doors to the ER room with my IV. It was a pretty small room. The stirrups were massive compared to the ones you usually see, and padded, so they were actually comfortable. As I was getting my legs into position, the embryologist slid open a window on the side of the room (it looked a little bit like a drive-thru window). The anesthesiologist put the oxygen tube in my nose, and I felt something uncomfortable go into the IV in my hand. And then I was out. This was the first time I had ever been under anesthesia.

When I came to, I felt something that kind of hurt, and said something (?) but I have no clue what. It was all over, they helped me move over to the bed and wheeled me over to the recovery room. The next couple parts are kind of hazy. I remember Dr. S telling us right away that they got 22 eggs, which was more than we were expecting. The nurse got me a heated blanket for my abdomen and Gatorade to drink with saltines. After a while, I went to the bathroom and so she took the IV out after that. The nurse gave me two extra strength Tylenol. After about 30 minutes I got dressed and the nurse wheeled me out to the car in a wheelchair. She also gave me a heated blanket for the car ride. I was in pain, but slept for most of the 2 hour drive home.

Sunday wasn't that bad, pain wise (especially compared to now!). I drank lots of Gatorade (to help with the bloating) and popped Tylenol like candy. Most of the day I sat with a heating pad and that really helped. I felt so relatively good by evening, that we went to see the fireworks in a local town (because we missed out the night before). But at about 2:30 am I woke up in extreme pain. I was sobbing because it hurt so badly. I think the Tylenol had worn off by then, and sleeping flat without a heating pad really did me in. (the fluid in your abdomen stays lower if you sit upright. When you lay down it can make your whole abdomen bloat up to your ribs. I was having trouble taking anything more than a shallow breath.)

Monday and today have been more of the same since I woke up that night. The bloat makes me feel like my whole body cavity is going to burst. I can't walk standing up straight and I waddle slowly around the house. Every step I take hurts. I am wearing the most loose clothing possible, but the pressure of the waistbands still hurts. I have been using a heating pad 24/7- and sleeping with it. To say that I am uncomfortable is an understatement. I also have a lot of respect for women who do this while they are working- because I don't know what I would do if I had to teach right now. The nurse made it sound like the second and third days are the worst and if I can get past that, I'll be ok. So I'm just trying to make it to tomorrow for relief... and to find out how our 6 fertilizing embryos are doing.

Egg Retrieval is OVER (Updated)

22 eggs retrieved. ER over- and I'm tired but fine. Will update later as we find out more and when I feel up to it. The embryologist should be calling sometime this evening to let us know how many were mature. Tomorrow we'll get a call from Dr. S to find out the fertilization report.

------

Edited to add: 18 mature- 3 immature and 1 old maid. :) Besides some serious cramping, and my new best friend the heating pad, I'm good. Now on to hoping for fabulous fert report news!

Ready the engines...

After 8 days of stims, we are cleared for take off! Today my E2 jumped way up to 1711, just like my RE had said it would (silly me for not trusting him that everything was "looking good"). My progesterone was 1.49 so I am very, very close. Tonight are my last stomach injections- no more Lupron and Follistim for me after that, and that's a cause for celebration in itself. My follies were all about 17-18 mm- well, the ones Dr. S measured. Jake thinks he stopped at measuring 14 follicles because he didn't feel like doing anymore, and there were many more slightly smaller ones on the screen that he didn't measure. Dr. S just said, "and there's multiple smaller ones, and we'll leave it at that." So I decided once and for all, that I am done worrying about the number and size of follicles I've got brewin'. (This does not, in any way, mean that I cannot be worried about the number of eggs retreived or fertilized however. I still reserve the right to stress about that.)

That means that we will trigger tomorrow evening, and the retrieval will be bright and early on Sunday morning. And when I say bright and early I mean- be there at 7 am, leave our house at 5 am. To celebrate the 4th of July, I get my first shot-free day in a long, long time (and hopefully for a long long time afterwards). And I get to go to bed early. Wohoo.

My stomach is ready for a break. I feel lucky that the largest bruises I got were the size of a pea, but just about every follistim shot left me with a purple mark. My stomach has purple polka dots. I'm not sure I'm quite ready to hand over the needle reigns to Jake though, or my rear. I was unaware that the nurse would mark a big X in a rectangle with permanent marker on my upper backside today to help Jake find the spot. This presented a little problem.

See, I had a massage appointment today at 2 pm. How to explain the large X and not die from embarrassment? I tried a large band aid, but that didn't work because you could still see the X through the gauze. So I gave up trying to hide it. While I was face down, she said, "did you go to the doctor today?" I told her, "yes, I have to administer an injection tomorrow." Then she asked if they used permanent marker because she wanted to make sure the massage oil wouldn't take it off. It took off a little, but you can still see it. I'm just glad I was face down so she could see my how embarrassed I felt or how red my face was. Hmmm. How ironic and fitting that embarrassed has the words bare ass in it.