Month: July 2011

Strange Things Are Afoot…

July 29th, 2011.  CD21, 5DPO.

It’s been a busy week around here, what with preparing for our big move and putting in extra time at work, so I apologize for the lack of updates!

Here’s a recap of what’s been going on in my neck of the woods:

  • I manually input an ovulation date for myself, based on when I triggered with the Ovidrel; this puts me at about 5DPO today.  Temps have been steadily on the rise, and I’m happy with that.
  • I had far fewer side-effects from the Femara than I did with Clomid, but I am seeing a couple of strange things happening to my body since I triggered.  I’m not sure if these are normal side-effects of Ovidrel, or if I’m just one of the “lucky” ones…
    • Crazy, vivid, sometimes disturbing dreams involving everything from people I care about being injured, people long dead back in my everyday life, and cheating on my husband with Neville Longbottom.  …I blame Laura for that last one.  Hah.
    • Several days of smelly pee.  TMI, I know, and it’s not like I am in the habit of smelling my own pee, but when you’re doing your usual thing in the ladies’ room and something wafts up and makes you go “Whoa, what the–?”, you know something’s amiss.  Dr. Google says that the chemical in Ovidrel, HCG, can sometimes be detected in the olfactory sense in women’s urine.  Since HCG is also the “pregnancy hormone”, many women who are familiar with the odd scent are able to suspect that they’re pregnant fairly early on.  I hope this is the case for me in the future, but for now, the smelly pee has subsided leading me to believe that it was just the chemical in the trigger working its way out of my body.  Oh, the joys of being a woman.
  • I spent a good half hour on the phone with a recruiter yesterday, discussing an internal position in Toledo for which I might make a great fit.  My info was forwarded on to the human resources department, and I should be receiving a phone call from them fairly soon.  It sounds like a great opportunity for me, and I really hope it works out.  It will be tough (read: impossible) to survive for very long after we make the move on only one income…
  • My car is full of boxes, and the time to start packing non-essentials is upon us.  I both love and hate moving, and with the husband working such long hours and having such a long commute, I will be responsible for the majority of the process.  The upside is that I will be Craigslisting and Goodwilling all sorts of crap we don’t use/need during the packing process.  That’s the part of moving I love.

Well, I think that’s about it for updates.  I know there’s a lot of other stressful little things sprinkled in throughout the rest of my daily life that I’m leaving out, but trust me, you don’t want to know.  I go in for progesterone bloodwork tomorrow morning, so that should be interesting.  I’m hoping for good numbers, but I have no idea what to expect since I’ve never had this done before.  I worry that my progesterone is low, and that’s what’s causing my short luteal phase.

Let’s hope that’s not the case, because I’ve heard some horror stories about progesterone suppositories.  Ew.  Noooo thanks.

Fingers crossed for tomorrow, and that Aunt Flo stays away for another week…

Happy Friday, friends!


36 Hours + 20 Questions = Crazy Person

July 24th, 2011.  CD16.

It’s official.  The thirty-six hour period after which I gave myself that wretched trigger shot has passed.  At some point in the past few days, I must have ovulated.  I’m in the Two Week Wait.

…Let the insanity begin.

...So this is what you get when you type "crazy" into Google Image Search... Hmm.

Oh, and just to drive home the whole “insanity” thing, let me wax philosophical about my chart for a minute.  …To be fair, it may be more than a minute, so get out now while you still can.

So, three days ago, the morning of my CD13 ultrasound, my BBT dipped pretty darn low.  I also had some gorgeous-looking EWCM that day, and the day before as well.  On CD14, my temp went up… Not extraordinarily high or anything, but still.  Up.  I had a teeny bit of EWCM early that morning, and then nothing thereafter.  This was also the day I triggered, after my little freak-out and subsequent conversation with Dr. Fran’s office.

Confused?  I’d be surprised if you weren’t.  (Obscure Harry Potter reference.  Hah.)

Allow me to create a timeline (of insanity), followed by a screenshot of the aforementioned chart:

Wednesday, July 20th, CD12 Lovely amount of EWCM, better quality than I ever recall seeing in past cycles.  Temp is normal/average.  Do the Dirty this evening.

Thursday, July 21st, CD13 – More EWCM; nice.  Temp dips to lowest point in cycle thus far.  Ultrasound shows 16mm follicle on the right side.  Plan is to DTD Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and trigger Saturday.  Afternoon OPK is negative.

Friday, July 22nd, CD14 – Teeny bit of EWCM in the morning, nothing the rest of the day.  Temp rises.  FMU comes up with positive OPK.  Freak out and call Dr. Fran, who tells me to trigger this evening instead.  Ovidrel shot of death, 8pm.  DTD a bit later in the evening.

Saturday, July 23rd, CD15 – CM is pretty much nonexistent at this point.  Temp rises yet again.  FMU comes up with positive OPK.  Attempt to DTD this evening, but a combination of heat, exhaustion, and a general feeling of unwell on the part of the husband make the outcome… umm… less than spectacular.  No check-mark for today.  Oops.

Sunday, July 24th, CD15 – What CM?  Temp maintains same level as yesterday; still high-ish, but no rise.  FMU comes up with positive OPK… Getting tired of that smug little smiley face.  Woke up the husband to DTD this morning, after which he rolled over and went back to sleep while I propped up my hips and Facebooked from bed.  Classy.

See what I mean?

Alright, so aside from thinking I’m batshit crazy, does anyone have any ideas about this?  I am tempted to believe that I may have surged on my own on the day of my CD13 ultrasound, but I suppose there’s no way to know for sure since no bloodwork was done on that day.

If that was the case, would triggering after or during ovulation have any negative impact on the cycle?

Is a 16mm follicle mature enough?

How will the doc adjust my treatment in the next cycle to ensure that I have ample time to mature my follies further?

Soooo many questions.  I guess this is why my RE doesn’t give out her email address.



Soundtrack Saturday :: Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Happy day-after-trigger day!

I found this song amusingly appropriate.  Although, I’m fairly certain fertility medication is not what Pat Benetar had in mind when she performed this little gem…

Enjoy your weekend, folks, and I hope your day finds you blissfully needle-free.


Free Ollie!

July 23rd, 2011.  CD15.

So yesterday was pretty crazy…

I woke up, used an OPK, went about my business for a few minutes, and returned to find that smartass little smiley face staring back up at me.

And then I freaked out.

You see, on Thursday, the day of my CD13 ultrasound appointment, my temperature dipped rather low.  Now, I know this could mean nothing because of the meds, and in fact, my temp did the same exact thing last cycle on CD13 and it turned out not to have been ovulation… But still, I was internally a little afraid that I’d surge on my own, and that smiley face all but confirmed my fears.

In a panic, I did what comes naturally to me.  I consulted Dr. Google.  Then I went to Twitter and my FertilityFriends for some advice.  Only then did I call Dr. Fran’s office to let her know what happened.

I waited around a little while before finally giving up on getting an immediate return to my psychotic phone message; I had to work yesterday, and I figured I ought to do my coworkers the favor of showering.  After said shower, I naughtily peed on another OPK, which promptly turned out negative.

I started imagining all the possibilities in my head: I surged early, and the husband and I had decided to forgo Sexy-Time the night before in preparation for a three-night-robot-sex-marathon the following day.  I had missed my mark.  This cycle was barely off the ground and already it was a bust.  UGH.

Finally, just as I was walking into work, Dr. Fran’s office called me.  She took a look at my ultrasound again, and said she didn’t think this was anything major to be concerned about, but she wanted to me to move up my Ovidrel trigger shot from Saturday night to Friday.

And so, when I got home from work last night, Operation: Free Ollie began.

First, I set the mood by watching this video:

Then, I locked myself in the bathroom out of sight of the poor, squeamish husband, washed my hands like I was prepping for surgery, and started dismantling the Ovidrel box.  I did just what they said–I removed the cap, I tapped the syringe so the air bubble was at the top, I pressed the plunger till all the air was out.

And then I just stared at the thing, trying to psych myself up enough to stab it into my stomach.  The internal conversation went something like this:

You can do this, Tracy.  You’re not a little girl.  You’ve had shots before–Hell, you’ve even given a diabetic friend her insulin once!

Yeah, but I was drunk then, I barely remember that!

Whatever.  Don’t be a wuss.  Pinch that stomach skin and stick it in there.

Aggh!  I can’t make myself do it!  What if I close my eyes?  Maybe that will work…

Yeah right, and then you’ll stab your finger and start freaking out that the most fertile part of you is on your hand.  I’m sure your doctor would love to get that phone call on a Friday night.  Just quit being a chicken-shit and do it already!

Okay, you’re right.  I can do this.  I am woman, hear me roar… or something.

I imagined that giving myself a shot would be much like it was on the video–quick and precise.  Instead, I stuck that needle into my stomach in what seemed like slow motion.  And then I stared at that ugly piece of metal and glass, raping my abdomen, for probably a good minute before I started pressing down the plunger to administer the Ovidrel.  Removing the needle was much quicker… Imagine that.

Afterwards, I realized I hadn’t really breathed in a while, and so I sat down.  Quickly.  And stayed there a bit.

Thank the Good Lord I didn’t keel over in the bathroom, because when I emerged, the husband was passed out on the couch after a long day at work.  When he realized I was back in the room, he kind of looked at me like “Hey, where’ve you been?

I told him what the doctor had said on the phone this morning, and that her weekend prescription for a baby went something like this:

Tracy – Shoot up with drugs, try not to stress out about it, release an egg, provide a comfortable environment for said egg to thrive and become fertilized, and try not to do anything that will derail this effort.

Husband – Have a whole bunch of sex.

You know that obnoxious thing Tiger Woods does when he sinks a putt?  Yeah.  That’s pretty much what the husband did upon receiving this news.  Ugh.  Boys.

And so, here I am hoping that giving myself that injection last night was the final nudge Ollie needed to begin his journey to becoming my little tater tot.

I’m doing my part… I guess all we can do now is wait.

Oh, and have lots of sex.  Dear GOD, let’s not forget the sex…


All Planned Out

Hi again, folks.  Tired of these minute-by-minute updates yet?  🙂

I just got off the phone with the nurse at Dr. Fran’s office.  She said that the doc took a look at my scans from today and she feels very confident in Ollie the Follie.  So confident, in fact, that she said there’s no need for me to come in for that follow-up ultrasound on Saturday after all.  I can keep the appointment if I want, but either way they’re going to want me to trigger on Saturday night.

I opted out of the appointment.  I mean, if I’m triggering Saturday anyway, then I might as well choose to have one less thing all up in my business this weekend.  If ya know what I mean.  And I’m betting you do.

So, here’s what my planned-down-to-the-minute schedule looks like for the rest of this cycle:

Friday, July 22nd – Sexy-Time, pm.

Saturday, July 23rd – Sexy-Time + Ovidrel trigger, pm.

Sunday, July 24th – Sexy-Time, pm.

Monday, July 25th – Friday, July 29th – Pray.  A lot.

Saturday, July 30th – 8am blood draw for progesterone.

Sunday, July 31st – Friday, August 5th – Try really hard not to think every little twinge is Ollie taking up residence.  Or that Aunt Flo is on her way.

Saturday, August 6th – 8am blood draw for pregnancy test.

Oh, and the weekend after that last one?  That’s when we’re moving.  Soooo yeah.  Busy times ahead for this girl.

I just hope I’m spending the week of our big move recovering from the shock of a positive pregnancy test rather than recovering from Aunt Flo’s wrath.

I’d really rather she didn’t have our new address at all, to be honest.  I wonder if the Post Office can help me with that…


ICLW – Expose Yourself!


If you’re stopping by from ICLW, then welcome!  Check out my ICLW page for a little more background info, if you please.

If you don’t please, then by all means, let me tell you allllllllllll about myself in excruciating detail.


…Okay, kidding.

But just for fun, allow me to expose myself to you, the readers.  Here are ten random factoids about me:

  • In high school, I spent an entire weekend in the Detroit suburbs dressed as Marilyn Monroe as part of a student volunteer group event.  Yes–wig, heels, white dress, stuffed bra, and all.  I was also interviewed by the local news.  I am still praying that tapes of this disaster don’t surface one day…
  • I married “that guy” I made that “when we get to a certain age, we will just give up on dating and marry each other” pact with.  I’ve never regretted for a second being married to my best friend.
  • As a child, I wore giant, Coke-bottle eighties glasses.  I looked like Sophia from The Golden Girls from the time I was 18 months old until I turned fifteen.  To say that I survived an awkward stage would be an enormous understatement.
  • My first boyfriend was the pastor’s son.  What they say about pastor’s kids is totally true…
  • I have been in no less than four car accidents to the tune of the 90’s hit “One Headlight”, by the Wallflowers.  To this day, if I hear that song on the radio while driving, I pull the eff over.
  • I have a brother who’s two years younger than me.  And a sister who’s 17 years younger than me.  Not a half-sister, not a step-sister, but a sister-sister.  Oops, Mom and Dad.  You were almost home free, and now you’re sixty with a tween in the house.  Hah.
  • I am petrified of big bridges.  I have a recurring nightmare of driving off of one to my grisly demise.  *shudder*
  • I can turn anything into a sexual innuendo.  Even the word innuendo…
  • I play the Devil’s Advocate more than anyone I know.  I don’t even know I’m doing it!
  • Twins run in my family.  I married a guy who is a twin.  I hope this whole fertility medication thing doesn’t have Octo-mom-like results, because as much as I like kittens and puppies, I do not have the frame to support carrying and birthing a litter.

If you’re burned out while commenting from ICLW, then please, feel free to expose yourself too!  It will give you something interesting to share, me something enjoyable to read, and hopefully won’t leave you feeling like you’ve simply done your due diligence and moved on.

Plus, I like embarrassing stories.  They make me feel like my life is a little bit normal.  Kinda like watching the Maury Povich Show.

Happy ICLW!


It Only Takes One…

July 21, 2011.  CD13.

Well, I’m home from my CD13 ultrasound.  The transvaginal ultrasound experience is just as slimy and violating as I remember.   Almost as disturbing as the word “transvaginal”.  Ew.

I did remember to mention to the ultrasound tech that last time I was there, it was CD15 for me, and they thought I had already ovulated on the left, despite my tendency to ovulate around CD23 during a natural cycle.  I told her about how my temps had stayed fairly low, and that from the temp spike on CD28, I suspected that I had maybe ovulated later than it had originally appeared.

She took a look at my bloodwork that had been drawn that day, and said it looked to her like I hadn’t ovulated after all, so I was probably right about having ovulated around CD28.  I asked her if it would make a difference in how the Femara worked for me this cycle, and she said that it would probably mean my ovulating a bit later than the average Femara patient, but surely not as late as CD28.

Good to hear, thank you.  Oh, right.  Yes, I will lie back so you can shove that slimy wand into my hoo-ha.

So the good news is this: I have a nicely developing follicle on my right side.  15.5mm, which Miss USTech said looks pretty good for my first Femara cycle.  There are a couple of other smaller-ish ones that she said could have good potential too, but she liked #15 the best.

Only one good-looking follie.  Oh well, I will do my best to nurture and spoil that one little follie in hopes that he becomes my baby someday.  We shall call him Ollie the Follie, and he shall be my baybeh!

I guess It’s not ideal, but hey–it only takes one!

They want me back there on Saturday morning to see how things are progressing.  The husband even offered to come along with me to the appointment, although I think if they start talking about the Ovidrel injection he will probably exit to the safety of the lobby.

The odd/not-so-good/unsettling news goes as follows: That weirdness about possibly having ovulated on my left on CD13 last cycle came up again when the tech took a look at my left ovary.  She said it looked the same to her, like maybe remnants of a cyst from a previous cycle.  I asked if I should be worried, and she said no, but to be sure she was going to make sure Dr. Fran took a look at the scans too.  We will keep an eye on it the next few cycles, she says, nothing to worry about, I’m sure.

Hmm.  Okay then.

In other news, I bought a shiny new 20-day OPK on my way home from work last night (with a very full bladder, might I add), and when I tried to use it, the stupid electronic thingy you put the test strips into wouldn’t work!

So there I was, dancing around the bathroom trying not to pee myself, ripping open test strip after test strip, trying to get this thing to work.  There was no little blinking icon indicating that the thing had any intention of telling me whether my LH was surging or not, so I gave up and chucked the thing across the room.

And then I peed, of course.  It was glorious.

After my little tantrum, I boxed up the unused test strips and the broken-ass OPK and put it back in the bag with the receipt.  I returned it today, and got another one, which I checked in the store with the poor salesclerk watching me.  It worked.  Good to go.

Oh, and I also kept the test strips I opened yesterday and conveniently did not return them with the broken OPK.  Oops.  So now I have a shiny new 25-day OPK on my bathroom counter.

It really is the small victories in life, isn’t it?


A Song For My Baby

As I leave for my CD13 ultrasound to see how my follicles are responding to the Femara, I wanted to share a song I heard this morning.

Well, really two songs, both of which I have heard before and both of which I have loved for some time… But this lovely group smooshed them together and made my little heart melt.

This is the kind of thing I can imagine myself humming to my baby someday, shushing him or her to sleep, or just bopping around the house trying to get a little baby giggle out of my wee one.

Maybe it’s good luck that I heard this today.  Maybe it’s just that little bit of hope I needed.

Either way, I’m off.  Wish me luck and fat follies!


When Will Life Imitate Art?

This photo was taken almost three years ago during my best friend’s wedding weekend.  Obviously we were at a bowling alley.

Even more obviously, I do not bowl well and therefore like to put bowling balls in my shirt.  …I mean, who doesn’t?  Right?

I was just scrolling through some pictures and came across this one.  The girl in this photo is just happy to be with her friends and doesn’t know a thing about feeling jealous of someone who’s been as close as a sister for 20 plus years because she was able to get pregnant four months after this photo was taken.  She also doesn’t know anything about charting periods or basal body temps, or sperm counts or fertility meds.

This girl is happy, and for all she knows, perfectly fertile.

Then again, this girl also has a bowling ball baby… So maybe she’s a little… off.

Either way, the girl writing this blog post sincerely wishes that she could be as happy and carefree as the girl in the photo.

And that the bowling ball baby will someday become a real baby.

And maybe even that she could possibly retain the same ass-to-belly ratio when it happens.

…Okay, I’m not pushing my luck.  I’ll just take the baby, thanks.



July 14th, 2011.  CD6. 

So, from what I’ve heard/read about Femara (letrozole), the side effects are supposed to be less severe than those I experienced with Clomid.

I’ll give them this–the severity may be less, but the side effects are definitely still there.

I can live with the hot flashes.  There have been no night sweats thus far, thankfully.  The blinding headache I’ve had the past two days is starting to make me think it’s more related to Femara than caffeine.  I’ve also been dreadfully thirsty, but then again, it’s been  H O T  out there lately.

Oh, and the fatigue… I am so tired right now, I don’t think I will have the energy to go back and proofread.  Spell check will be getting a workout today, for sure.  I apologize if this post is rambling, but I’m just so darn sleepy!

Anyway, I’m about halfway through the Femara bottle:  two more little yellow pills tonight, and two more tomorrow night.  After that, it’s just a waiting game till my CD13 ultrasound appointment next Thursday.  I hope to be growing some big fat follicles!

I’m still not looking forward to giving myself a shot, but I suppose if the ultimate goal here is to squeeze a baby out of my delicates, I better get used to a little pain.

This kid better be worth it… 🙂

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Summertime Sadness

A safe space where I discuss the racing thoughts in my head, personal struggles, and day-to-day activities while struggling with mental health and mood disorder issues. My personal goal is to reduce the stigma that comes with mental health and mood disorders, by talking more about it.