Chi and crackers at the baby factory

Hi ICLW’ers. Welcome to the twisted humor / humour of a rare male blogger who does his best to support  Mrs IVF through our 5th IVF cycle (with no luck to date, but we transferred today, so we’ll see). The “about” explains where we came from. I write too much and spell badly, but my heart is in the right place I guess.

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Ever been at a turning point in life where something suddenly strikes you that going forward every day will be different? Maybe it’s the last day at school, or a day you move away from home, or if like Mrs IVF and I you are moving countries and you know things will be different, (or the day Mrs IVF and I went out our 1st date – after that I knew I found someone I wanted to marry and commit to a period of IVF hell, arent I nice?) Anyway, this feeling is like life dragging you somewhere else and “here” isn’t where you will be any more. Today it struck me that maybe, just maybe, life might take us somewhere else, away from IVF. Maybe we can cross this bridge. Maybe.

Today was transfer day, and what a coin toss of a day all day. On the surface things went very well, but there is ying and yang all around you. Maybe I was just sensitive to it today. I drove like a grandpa down to the baby clinic this am and Mrs IVF sat there surprisingly quietly, just squeezing three of my fingers over and again. Then she would squeeze them like she was trying to strangle them, then stop, the repeat the whole thing. She barely remembers it. Poor thing. She was stressed. 2 hrs before the baby wizards (embryologist) called and wanted to know how many they wanted to pull out of the esky / chilly bin / ice box / freezer. We went with 2, as pretty widely broadcasted by now. Mrs IVF was worried about their health. I, on the other hand, was completely chilled, there was nothing else to do. At the risk of clogging this blog with yet another analogy, if we were sky diving today, we have left the plane, we were free falling. We have done everything we can think of to make this right. Mrs IVF has done every drug, patch, insert, jab on time, we have been off booze, caffeine etc for so long it doesn’t even register anymore. Nothing more to do, enjoy the view as you plummet towards earth before the parachute opens. Mrs IVF was worrying that the chute wouldn’t open, I was talking in the view for once.

As we waited in the foyer of the baby factory, a couple came in and wanted their medical records on the spot, “sorry sir, 3 weeks”, “can’t I just xerox now…”, in my mind, people don’t move records fast unless not happy with something. A yang moment. Next min a woman arrived with the cutest, well behaved 3-4 year old girl. Mum was in for ultrasound, so I suspect Little Miss Lovely was a product of the baby factory herself. A ying moment. How lovely. Mrs IVF sat there in her own world pumping away on my fingers…. Next we headed in for bloodwork, Mrs IVF almost ran in as if to speed this whole thing up…from another room I head  ” I did a test this morning and it was negative but I was wondering as I am flying out on Thursday if …..” Yang moment… Mrs IVF pops out of bloodwork and I hang out while she does a bit of bladder mgmt (critical for transfer days as many of you know) and Little Miss Lovely pops around the corners with her mum again….. ying… The baby factory is such a lay line of happiness or complete despair… this dichotomy is  everywhere and its done with such calm, no raised voices, a nice waterfall in the foyer. It’s like nothing is going on, a fertile would not see any of this, but to the sub fertile its a world of hopes, amazing results and shattered dreams.

We headed to the 2nd floor where all the serious work happens (downstairs is just offices and ultrasounds, upstairs is all the procedure rooms – yes – inc the porn parlour). We headed into our room and, like the retrieval, I thought this was just a prep zone, where at some point Mrs IVF would be whisked away and at the end of some secret procedure they just fedex her back to me or something (like prior clinics), but I soon found out everything is done in the one room.

1st we had the acupuncture guru appear. It wasnt the oracle, it was her little sister but she still had cool oracle lines like …”let me just tweak these pressure points to ensure the chi / she / cheese keeps flowing”. Very oracle-ish. So we did around 25 mins of pre game acupuncture with some lovely soothing music. A picture of calm from all angles.(Note – “we” means I sat there invisibly in the corner, while Mrs IVF was looked after).

 Next, the elf (nurse) appears and give us the game play for the day, what we need to do and not do later, and drops Mrs IVF a Valium. Mrs IVF turns to me and says “I think these pills don’t really affect someone like me, I am pretty chilled anyway, they would really have an impact on a guys like you who bounce off the walls”…..her increasingly glossy (but still gorgeous) eyes were telling me a slightly different story, dear reader.

Next up was the sonographer (or ultrasound elf in Mr IVF speak). Lovely no nonsence woman who checked out the bladder situation. We were overfull so we can “empty a cupload”. Mrs IVF, anxious about only doing a “half wee”, but keen to avoid the bed pan later, went for the half wee option and came back beaming with the new bladder control half wee skill she never knew she had and reckons I should give it a go. Hey – party time in our hotel room tonight!!! Woo Hoo!

Then things get towards the main event. Time for the wizards to drop in. These folks are the behind the scenes magicians you really don’t see that much of.  They have amazing jobs. They make children for a living. There are 2 things they measure when you wake the kids up from the icebox:  hurdle 1: how many cells survived (hello !?!?- no one told me they die off a bit?). They want anything above a 75% survival. We scored a 95% and 98%! Nice work team. hurdle 2: are the kids stagnant, growing nicely, going off like Tiger woods at the match.com christmas party? we got 2 “growing nicelys”, which they said is excellent. Mrs IVF was silent, but you could see the relief. The parachute opened.

The wizard and baby maker (Dr) decided to defrost the 4AA and a 5AB (Here’s a post explaining how blast grading works: https://misterivf.wordpress.com/2009/09/15/final-biopsy-results/)

From checking with Mrs IVF speadsheet here is the gradings of the 6 that passed mircoarray:

5AB, 4AA, 6BA, 3 with a 4BB

So I was surprised they didn’t go with the 6BA so I checked with the wizard. She says they choose the 1st letter (the quality of what will be the embryo) as the top grading criteria. So the 5AB and 4AA got the nod. Mrs IVF was back on her game now. “Oh, so thats embryo #13 and #15, got it”… “wow”, says the wizard “thats right”. Mrs IVF appears to have memorised the ordering of the kids from her embryo spreadsheet. Bless her. I hope we find better names for them one day, (“#13 clean your room!!!” doesnt really work well and the playground bullies will have a field day). From checking back over the spreadsheet Mr / Ms 5AB was also the 12 cell monster we had at day three (when we should be around 8 cells)….. well enough, can you disect this any further, I think not?

A bit after 11.15 then whole gang is in the room, we have the ultrasound elf, the baby maker himself, the elf,  the radient (yet a tad glossy) Mrs IVF, the non joke cracking Mr IVF in the corner amazed by all of this and the wizards has returned with the most impressive machine I have ever seen. This thing – the baby transporter – is a full on incubator (complete with these gloved hand holes like you see on the Simpsons in the radioactive part of the nuclear reactor). On the side are two unmarked canister of something, probbaly oxygen and something else that is cooler like “baby grow juice”. There is a big monitor on top and all sorts of big words on it that I can’t remember but probably said something like  “BABY MAKER – STAND CLEAR AT ALL TIMES. NO STANDING”. In the middle of this contraption is a huge microscope that has a gentle soothing beam of like from it shining down on a small dish. Its by far the brightest light in the room, which is quite fitting. Its like looking at one of those si fi movies where if you can take the petri disc out of the light, then you will cause a thermonuclear reaction across the whole death star and take out Lord Vader and the rest of the dark side. If only we can get that one good shot at the energy core… stay on target… stay on target…..

Anyway – Mrs IVF was whisked into position and we went through the whole “say your name” bit, which was good. Not only did they have the right Mrs IVF, but they had the right Mr IVF as well – but not sure why I go so many strange looks for saying my name (no – I didn’t do it, this is not the place for humor / humour folks).

Soon the wizard had a needle the size of your forearm (in length not width!!) and with the steadiest hand I have ever seen, passed it to the baby maker who did his injection in seconds and the whole deal was done while we all stare at a TV screen that looked like a whole lot of static to an untrained eye (that would be my eye and not his thank hevens!). Gloves off, legs down, head tilted downhill, best wishes to you both, and Mrs IVF is officially up the duff.

The elf checked in to see if the bed pan was required (which it wasn’t) so  we got the oracles prodigy back again for another session of chi / she / cheese with the needles Mrs IVF drifted off for a snooze with another round of calming mongolian throat gurgling from the CD player.

After an hr of rest, Mrs IVF was wheel chaired to the car where, in recliner mode, I drove like my grandpa’s grapdapa back to our hotel 5 mins away and this is where Mrs IVF has been bed based ever since. She will stay there until Wednesday.

As the ultrasound elf said, maybe this bed rest is “voodoo” but hey, can it hurt? “No” says Mrs IVF, remembering how nice it is to be looked after.

So there it is folks. 2 in and all went as well as we can expect. Preggo test next Wednesday. 30th Dec.

I called family tonight giving them updates. My darling, but somewhat blunt, sister  summed up the ying and yang in my head today with one of her trademark oneliners: “Look, I am sick of the crap going on in this world. I have friends with crap marriages and nightmare lives,  for me work sucks, and things are tough and well, there is just a lot of shit going on, so you know what, we need more good in this world so you need kids, thats how we fix this world, lets get more good in it. Time to start a new decade and write this one off, and thats how we’re going to fix the bad, inject more good, you need kids.” With that, she hung up and I thought, “I could live with that.”

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Can we get over the line(ing)?

Right, back in Denver and it’s all very deja vu, even down to only being 1 room away from where we stayed last time. We have been on a lining blitz, but we are complete amateurs, we really try to do the right thing, but who knows.

Today we went and saw The Oracle again.  I am sure I have mentioned The Oracle before but I cant find the post. Anyway, this woman, just like her name sake  in The Matrix is completely unassuming but has an air of all knowing in an incredibly disarming way. She is the acupuncturist, but deep down I think she is something bigger, potentially a god, who is just hanging around on earth in a simple office in the back of Colorado somewhere bringing her ‘erbs and somewhat magical knowledge to mere mortals.  You think you go to the oracle for a quick session of acupuncture, but you are really going for a lesson on life, except you just don’t know it until you leave.

Before Mrs IVF went in for her session today we had a fairly typical acupuncture type rundown with The Oracle, with tongue showings (Mrs IVF no one else) and a few tips on do and don’t. Tongue was ok, but the leg crossing was a no no, blocks major arteries and destroys your personal chop suey or feng shui or something. We discussed the diet and were told to avoid soy (oh whoops – so much for chinese last night!) as, well, that will give you estrogen, but you only have so many receptors in your body and yes these receptors will pick up soy from a bit of a stir fry but thats low grade compared to what you are sticking in your vajayjay and absorbing from the patches (oh man – low grade estrogen? – we are so out of our league on this stuff).

When Mrs IVF went in for her session I continued to download from The Oracle. So much to learn. So ying and yang. We are in a ying phase – calming, nurtuing, loving, motherly, massages, yoga, calming music, bla bla bla. We need to keep the ying high, (so much for ying and yang evening each other out!)… yang, well yang seems to be where I spend my life, it’s the testosterone side of things, kickboxing, blokeville etc. Every chick has her yang moments, but now, oh learned readers, we need to be ying. Bugger – kickboxing for Mrs IVF probably not great then?

Heres another. Ladies, want to get pregnant? go and find a baby and hold it, hang out with kids. Your body reacts to this. The Oracle says that women who live together over time have their periods converge (which even I knew) but didn’t know that holding a baby can kick off a the whole “chick system”. (So at least that explain something for me. As  I hold cheeseburger, I now know why I get fatter, it’s all the proximity stuff. Suddenly, its all so clearn now!) So – next time you are out with a fertile and really are dreading it, grab that kid and rub it all over you (without looking like a nutbag)… straight from the oracle. She would know. So get baby sitting people, your uterus needs you.

So I learnt a fair amount, but she ends off with this ” you just have to hope at the end, there really is no right answer”. What an oracle-ish thing to say.

So I spent time in The Oracles waiting room downloading calming relaxing music on my phone as the oracle dispensed her wisdom. (note Mrs IVF has passed out on the lounge tonight listening to a recording of a fireplace crackling away, so there’s a result!)

Tomorrow is scan day, so this is where we see if this is the end of cycle 5 or not. Over 7 mm please. Oracle not happy with 6mm so did some special job on Mrs IVF’s guts tonight, (nearly as good as what the white bean soup did to my guts at a later dinner). The good news from talking to the oracle is that she very very very rarely sees people who don’t ever cycle from poor lining (and sorry dear reader if you are one of these poor folks) as they just cancel the cycle and hit you with skud missiles of drugs next month to get you over the line next month, (or so I believe). SO, if we aren’t over the line, we just go skiing and if we are, then our journey across the rickety bridge continues.

Side note: If coming to Denver (maybe for a holiday or to see or make family?) go to a place called table 6 for dinner. Great little spot. Excellent food, don’t ask about the wine menu (no idea), but as we wrapped up a great meal last night sitting next to us was one of gods reps (a priest, not an angle) having a nice meal with a mate. They were chugging a beer! So I am even being out drunk by the lords reps. I have to be close to a low point on who can out drink me these days.

Wish us luck. See you on the other side of this. Lets hope the pond scum smoothie (plus everything else) did the trick.

Enter the IVF chef!

So I got looking for good lining food. There is a website for everything, and of course, I found one on “increase uterine lining with estrogen type foods”. See below

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/840435/increase_uterine_lining_with_estrogen.html

So while Mrs IVF was out doing her acupuncture last night I went and hit the organic store with the article above looking to cook up a storm. My initial thought was to do a stir fry as I thought I could use some soy sauce to help the case (soy is good!), but as I read beyond the pure ingredients I saw the following comment:

There are many ways to prepare and implement these foods in your diet but if you’re looking for a quick estrogen fix without alot of prep work, try juicing. I find that juicing is such a fast easy way to get quick results because the raw juice reaches the cellular level within 15 minutes and if you’re working against that age related infertility clock, every minute counts right?”

Right !!!! Well, This just pumped me right up! Working against that damn clock! We needed to hurry. We arent talking years here people, we are talking a week+ to transfer and merely days to our next scan! I almost ran straight out of the shop then and there!

However, I had 2 other problems to contend with first. (1) I had a basket full of things for a stir fry, not a smoothie and (2) I am known for not following recipes. Pie – I am no cook to your standard, but I hold my own, my problem is if I dont have or dont know of an ingredient I substitute, generally successfully, but not always. Mr IVF cooking is a bit like Wheel of Fortune – sometimes top dollar and sometimes banktrupt. Mrs IVF is a stickler for recipes and really struggles with my approach, so we have a truce around this where she doesnt ask and I dont tell. I cook with lots of secret ingredients, she generally likes what I eat, and the world keep spinning.

So, you probably guessed where this is going, but with that damn clock rining in my ears, I needed to work with utmost haste.  An inappropriate basket of food and a general lack of control when it comes to cooking wasnt going to get in my way, so I pushed on pretty much grabbing anything I could juice and headed for the checkout and dropped $40 on what would turn out to be probably the most expensive drink of my life.

So, ladies and gentlemen, of the readership world, I proudly introduce to you, from the kitchens of Hoboken, NJ, USA,  the “you beaut ute boost”.. (“you bute” is an aussie term for “great; wow!;  isn’t that just something!!” – for example lets say you were at the races and your horse came in 1st, it wouldnt be uncommon for someone in Australian, who maybe isnt very posh to yelp out “YOU LITTLE BEAUTY”… which in non Aussie would be “oh wow, I think I won, isn’t that just something then hey?”

The recipe is as follows:

a large head of broccoli, a slab of cauliflower, a whole plastic container of mung bean sprouts (boy, they make a mess but juice well!), a hand full of baby carrots (add more if you like carrot – quite strong when juiced), 3-4 mushrooms (they dont juice very well but add a bit of brown to the mix, which i think is key), a whole tub of brussel sprouts, a squash, 4 red delicious apples, 3 pears, an inch of ginger and a few spring of thyme for a bit of randomness.

The result? “tasty, gingery and well, good” were the 1st words from Mrs IVF. I did taste test it first to ensure I didnt kill her, and must admit it wasn’t bad, even if it did have a bit of a pond scum look about it.

I made up so much I ran out of containers and ended up using mixing bowls.

So there we have it. Poor old Mrs IVF is drinking pond scum for lunch and dinner and says she still likes it with  smile, so it cant be that bad. If we cancel this cycle I can’t come away feeling we haven’t trie our hardest to get that 1.6MM!!!

Huntin’ season

So we tripped, staggered but havent fallen…. yet

The word from the elf yesterday was they aren’t cancelling the cycle, but they will move the transfer back a week and we go on a rampage to grown that lining. So it’s officially linin’ huntin’ season in our household. Who has good recipes to help grow lining? estrogen burgers anyone?? Any other tips of to do’s or not to do’s? Lets get going here people, we need lining and we need it now, kind donations of lining are greatly appreciated and can be pledged by calling 1-800 GIVIN LINING. We are going for that 1.6MM of luck!

So we still fly out this Saturday we do a scan on Tuesday then another one Thursday then trf  WILL (lets keep positive people) be 21st, we will then head up to Salt Lake City to meet my mum who is flying in from Oz, then back to Gotham on the 28th. 

Question is – fly or drive? Which one is likely to cause less damage to jnr? Any opinions?

So Mrs IVF has officially gone “smurf turf” is the report today from the nether regions (and no, thats not a country with windmills in Europe). She is off the vaigara and onto the estrace which I believe is causing quite a mess. (taking verbal reports here, no need to go for visual proof). Estrogen level last week 419, now 413, need to get this up, its above the line, but we want it to grow.

Reflection moment….so much hassle – can you believe that all this can be done through a 5 min shag? How amazing can the human body be when it works as it should.

Thankyou once again commenters – great to hear from you and for those of you who are new, I will try and catchup on your blogs now that we are guest free. There is some seriously wicked homour (yes – Australians add the “u”‘) out there amongst the despair on your blogs.

Some some specific comments to the commenters:

Cassie – Mr IVF’s are somewhat weird beasts. We all tackle this crap different ways. I am a verbeler, most of us aren’t. More than happy to email / catchup if he is up for it. Mrs IVF appreciates a RLF(real life friend) , LHB (local hoboken buddy), or whatever you call :).. . I am really crap at those TLA (three letter acronyms)

Jen – we are going to trf two if we get that far

All – thanks for the well wishes and comments. All comments are greatly appreciated and vibes happily accepted

Heading for the rickety bridge

Don’t fear, I am over the jet lag and crazy “world free of IVF” posts and am back to normal, alas my dry-old-jealous of-fertile-people self.

Apologies for the long delay between posts – I know the 5 of you who follow me must be beside yourself looking for an update- but the Hoboken Hilton (i.e. Mr and Mrs IVF base camp) has been rammed with guests from Australia. Damn that useless weak American dollar.

Actually seeing fam and friends is good we just need a break between them.. .our mate Nate, then dad, then my aunt and a mate of hers, a week or so “free” with Mission Denver and then mum meets up with us for Christmas. So today is the first gap in a while with my aunt, (or to pronounce that in American: “ant”) ,out of town for the weekend, Mr IVF is back (briefly).

The lovely Mrs IVF, the ever positive Mango Princess of my life, is storming through our baby quest challenge with her consistent resolve to land this kid thing once and for all, and what a few weeks its been. She has been avoiding chocolate as we did a food tours Greenwich Village with guests (cruel, very cruel on her), she avoided aussie chocolate and wine (and aussie chocolate is awesome) that our guests bring (time and time again) she has been shooting Lupron up in toilets as we have been out for dinner, (always at 9.30 – must keep to the clock!), sneaking into our bedroom to do likewise while I chortle with the guests over a bit of Karmel Sutra Ben and Jerry’s ice cream in the lounge….It has been tricky. But she remains laser focused and generally unfazed. Amazing. I would be a loon by now.

She is also on such a busy timeline of drugs, patches and “thing you put in your bits” (and I am not talking ice cream here people) that air traffic control at JFK would be easier to keep an eye on that this.  Checking over her mind boggling calendar, she has had to do 105 things to herself since oct 22nd – 43 days. So at least 2 things a day. She has been on birth control pills, Vivelle (which soulds like a type of ice cream… what is it with the ice cream theme tonight?), patches for estrogen (ranging from 1 every 2 days to now 4 every 2 days.. and she is running of out space where she hasnt slapped one on), Asprin (why not), Viagra “bullets”, and of course you need a needle of something, so why not our old mate Lupron. Today was a 4 patch switch over day, an AM asprin, an 8am, 1pm, 6pm and the pending 11pm viagra and of course 5ml of lupron to wrap things up. I thought she would be all chilled and bored with this but the viagra suppositories are like a magic trick to her, they are solid when they go in, but she never ceases to be amazed that they just keep dissapearing. Enough, this is starting to freak me out.

Clearly Mr IVF is not playing any Barry Manalow CD’s around the master bedroom these days, in fact I am on a 9 month ban. (yes months and yes, 9.)

I think Mrs IVF’s drug day peaks around Thursday next week so try this for a hobby… Vivelle patch refresh (quantity yet to be determined) in the morning, followed by asprin, will take some blood, endometrin (progesterone) in the AM sometime, Tetracycline at 8am (fck knows what this is – wikipedia says it treats acne, which Mrs IVF doesnt have), Endometrin at noon, tetra again at 1pm, then 6pm then some medrol  (wiki: supression on inflamation?) in the evening and then 1 more tetracycline at bed time. Why not. When does she get time to do any work I ask you, dear reader.

Anyway – we are ramping up again and heading for the bridge of hope. It’s safe here in IVF land. You know your current kid free life sucks, but it is sort of pain free (well as pain free as it ever has been) but you are not going out looking to have your heart ripped out.  As we walk on the rickety old bridge across “heartbreak canyon” next week in our quest to get to parentville, we will be putting ourselves back out there for the risk of emotional catastrophy. It’s safe here, we wont have kids where we sit today (well not more that 5 day old icicles which is a bit useless really, you would like a bit more interaction from your kids than that) so we need to do the bridge. While our friends around us fly over this canyon in no time on their freshly build, 100% sturdy concrete 4 lane freeways, we take the tricky, painful slow walk across the shaky bridge further down the valley from them. They cant see out bridge from their position as they blindly cruse up to parentville like it buying a coffee from starbucks and of course they would never take our path, who would, but we cant take theirs, so we have no other option. Wish us well for our emotional journey, we are off to try again after falling into the canyon 4 times and climbing back up the cliffs to the bizarre but unfulfilling “home” of IVF land. What a shitty outcrop in life to live, so its time to head to the mountains to see if we can grow our gourmet, hand made in the mountains, kiddies into real little princesses and nut bags.

We fly out of Gotham City Sat 12th. Trf is 14th. Mrs IVF is doing the limbo for 3 days then we are heading to Park City Utah (over 2 days) where Mr IVF is planning to lose the battery on his blackberry as he skis and Mrs IVF will lay low and take it easy and have her 1st holiday for the year. 23rd December is preggo test day… the day we fall in the canyon (again) or the day we know we have a decent chance of getting to the other side for once. Here we go, wish us luck.

Dear blogroll and crew – will catchup on your posts in the coming days. Hard to read about IVF with the guests  – dont want to give away our secret life now do we. Considering we have nothing but water & juice in the house , Mrs IVF, a well known sweet tooth, on no chocolate and neither of us on booze I am sure our guests think that a couple of late 30’s arent sending out “we cant have kids” signs anyway.

Chow for now

Mr IVF

Hanging with fertiles

So the trip to London wraps up today and while worried at first, an intensive weekend hanging out with fertile friends has actually been  a lot of fun. Mrs IVF and I dont have any kids in our circle of friends in NYC, so hitting kidsville in Lon with my best mates has been a shock to the system. I was woken on Saturday morning by young Oscar and Ollie with cards they have had made with all sort of pictures (fireworks and rockets etc) saying “Mr IVF we love you,” Not bad for a 5 and 3 yo.  I also went and hung out with my 7 y.o. god-daughter and her little sister. The god-daughter needs to get her attitude adjusted but her somewhat sneaky little sister was a doll and wanted to know if I was staying or if “I would be gone again in the morning like you normally are”… told her I’d be gone and she said “well you should just come and stay more often. 10 days would be the right amout of time” All very cute and sweet. It really was touching and a complete surprise I didnt wig out.

I also think I have worked out why fertiles struggle to see what we go through. Our struggle is just so 180 degrees from where they are. Their life is saturated with children and completely flat out. I spent the weekend sucked up in the jetstream of what goes on with families with 2 kids between 3 and 8 years old and everyone just collapses once kids have gone to bed. Sure – my mates care and are interested to hear our kiddie struggles and are pretty reasonable support, but they don’t and will never really get it, but they try. But I guess that is like any illness. A really great mate’s wife is dealing with breast cancer. We sent her a box of books and try to ring from time to time but I dont know what she is really going through.

I felt good I can hang with my fertile friends and not feel hugely jealous. I see it more a sign of fate that this is my training lesson, (nothing wrong with some positive thinking!!). Just like when I had to read one of the stories to the girls they picked a book about tadpoles. OMG. I cracked up laughing and I said “nice selection – arent they a great batch of tadpoles.” I was frikkin jealous of sperm on the front cover of a 3yo’s book! Mum and dad didnt get it until I spelt it out of course. If she had a smurf book I probably would have keeled over in hysterics

However, the weekend was not event free.

Flashback…. June 2008 I had my birthday dinner with 3 other couples. We were about to start IVF, one couple announced their pregnancy (which kind of trashed my night, but they weren’t in the inner circle then, so you can’t blame them), another couple, we found out later, were also about to announce their pregnancy, but had the 12 week scan on monday so decided to hold off. The 12 weeks scan 2 days later showed no heartbeat. Ouch and the 4th the couple had no kid story as far as we know. But it was a weird, kid laden dinner when the dust settled and we looked back 4 months later on the whole thing and the MC came out.

I remember being incredibly jealous of these folks who announced their pregnancy. They had been at it for 30 seconds and of course we had 18 months on the clock ahead of them…. I really don’t need to tell this sort of story in detail. We all have “kiddie queue jumper” stories to tell. Anyway, my mate is in the loop now and has asked all the right questions and been quite supportive but can trip up on the insensitivity sometimes. E.g. he really needed to just go out with the lads and get pissed on a weekend a few months ago. Bloke weekend away, go hard! The guy didn’t invite me, but told me all about what they were doing and then repeated it all when he got back. You getting the sensitivity?

Anyway, he called me on Saturday night in London and announced with enormous fanfare ” we are pregnant again”. Smack. Cop that punch. “now we can both be pregnant at the same time!!”  Which, in hindsight is prob about as good as he can say. It acknowledges where we are at with an optimistic spin. But it still hurt. I decided not to ruin Mrs IVF’s night and would break it to her when I got back to NY. 5 mins later I get a txt ” X is pregnant. I can’t fucking believe it”. Fucking Facebook.  Mrs IVF took it hard. We thought we were pretty bullet proof but this one got in under the flak jacket.

So life goes on. We struggle again with what news we can handle from the fertiles but we stay laser focused on the plan. Mrs IVF is doing 5 units of Lupron every night and 1 estrogen patch every 2 days. Electro acupuncture starts on Wednesday with another blood test to boot. If that is good, she goes up to two patches on Friday.

Garnering consensus

Funny thing this IVF shit show. Sorry, people put full stops in those words…. shit sh.ow.

I have reached out to a few inner circle mates to of course get their opinions around this transfer question and you know what, some thoughts are golden and some are clueless. We all know the pitfalls of opinions from clueless fertiles.

We are currently enjoying the company of my father who has come to the big smoke from Sydney, Australia. Awesome guy who I am very close to and someone I respect immensely. Want to work out where I get my sense of humor from? Try this. He is flying on United and I warned him that these guys suck (come on, they really do) and he should be prepared for a fairly shitty fl.ight. “As long as the number of take off equals the number of landings, I’ll be fine”. He’s a down to earth guy who focuses on the fundamentals.

So we are getting his input live in the current situation and the other day, straight after the Baby maker call, we all sat down on the lounge to chat about it. I dont know what hit me and dont really remember well, but Mrs IVF informs me that we start to talk of 1 vs 2 vs 3 and I just zonked straight off to sleep on the lounge (well, work has been a little tough and I guess I just was a bit wiped out), so dad and Mrs IVF trundled off to the study and continued to chat.

Dad view is as random as mind “go two and you know what, you can do three cycles” or “go three, drop them in and see how you go fast and get back to stimming if needs be”…. to be honest, he is super sensitive to interfering and prefers to play a pitstop role and just help us to think rather than offer suggestions. He has done this all my life. “you haven’t made too many  bad calls in your life, so why should I start interfering now” is his general mantra.

In the wider friend group, the moron of the week comment goes to a british buddy of mine (father of 2 at the BOAEL  – at the blink of an eyelid), who feels up to speed, and truly thinks he is helping but really has both feet in his mouth. The conversation was around the 2 vs 3 but also if we stim again if we have one / a few failed cycles. The view in our camp (as many of you I am sure subscribe is – stim when you can as eveything just gets older). Mr Moron’s view? Half way through my explanation  he blurts out the following interruption – “2 and why would you stim again? Listen dude it comes to a point where you just have to wonder if this is ever going to work”…. oh beautiful, thanks for helping me comes to terms with that thought.

The whole chat reminded me of the movie terminator 2 where that really fancy future cyborg thing comes down to try and get that rude kid you just want to belt around the head but the Governor of California gets in the way, by raising taxes, sending the state broke and oh yeah, shooting the facy future bad cop. Well – remember how that bad cop could just be blown away at point blank range and you would think “oh man, that shot had to kill it”, but it doesn’t, it regroups and gets on with its fancy cyborg life…. well that’s how this conversation felt. My pommy mate is the governator and I just got a double barrel dump to the face. What a senseless muppet, but who cares, life goes on.

Oh by the way – today I am thinking 2. I have picked up 2 very wise soundbites on top of your great comments:

– don’t put in more that you really want back

– don’t have more kids that you have arms