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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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

Dancing on eggshells

The elf just called. We had 5 reach blast today and were biopsied and others that are in early blast stage and hope make it tomorrow so can be biopsied. Mrs IVF didnt ask anymore than that, this is all out of our hands now anyway, so maybe we should just forget about it for 4-6 weeks and wait for another phone call to see how we go after mircoarray. Mrs IVF was very happy with her 5 blasts and reminded me how big a deal that was (and that the old clinic didnt think we could hit blast at all). I think I am just fed up with all of this. At the end of the day we have been incredibly fortunate to have such large numbers to play with but it always just seems to come down to a few embryos and living with minced nerves, (oh, and I am not the one who has had their body treated like a lab rat who has developed a nasty nugget addiction, so what do I have to complain about.)

We’ll see how we go I guess. We are still taking steps forward and for that I need to get out of my huff and remember that we are still in the game and that, to be fair, is huge.

Hurdle 1: The leopard loses her spots

Since the last post, I triggered the leopard right on time at 10pm (central baby factory time) and all seemed to got to plan. The only prob was that the trigger pumps even more stims into Mrs IVF which was now starting to worry us as the old E2 was still heading for outer space. Last time I posted I left you hanging at a level somewhere in the 4,000’s. Well, the E2 queen went on to hit 5,300 and then she hit a very impressive 7,900 on Tuesday. Holly shit. So apart from the trigger she hadnt really been on a stims since Saturday, so one hell of a coast you have going on there Mrs IVF.

So the last few days have been pretty chilled. With E2 levels in outer space its been a slow few days on the lounge, in bed, back on the lounge and then, oh , well, back to bed for her for another sleep.

So we headed into the baby factory today to kick this rollercoaster off and see what the baby makers could do. 1st hurdle – egg retrieval. Team Leopard’s record to date is 15 on cycle 1 followed by 11,10 and 5 in subsequent cycles.

We met a whole new bunch of elves that live on the second floor in the surgery that are just as delightful as the ones downstairs. Everyone is so frikking lovely and nice out here in the baby factory. Before our legend leopard superstar headed into the surgery we met a new baby maker we hadnt met before. Nice enough guy, but worried about the hyperstim risk … “from where I stand I can see the train wreck risk of where you are going”. Fair enough. The leopard then raised a great question, “as my E2 is so high, what are the chances I have over cooked the eggs?”.. “no chance” says the baby maker, so that was that. The sleep elf  enters and inserts the sleep juice into the leopards IV and its good night to all.

While our leopard legend was off counting eggs in her sleep, Mr IVF headed to the porn den to do his duty and then headed off to the waiting room re living past waiting rooms and reading your posts on his iphone trying to stay calm and not think of the 5 egg retrieval shit show we had last time. Everyone (our IVF elf, geneticist elf, the dildo cam elves, even the guy in the burger king drive thru (he wasnt an elf)) have all thought we would get a very good egg count this time, but as long term readers are no doubt sick of me bleating on about, we had E2 of 4,000 last cycle and only 5 eggs retrieved out of 18 x 18mm follicles, so who knows how this would play out.

Mrs IVF’s elf  appears.

Mr IVF: “How’s the leopard?”  Elf: “sleepy, but she’s good”…. pause…. elf: ” She has good news for your, I am not going to tell you, she can tell you when you get to her bed.”

Instantly there is a floor, some sort of base under my feelings, I feel like I am standing again on some form of semi solid ground and the free-falling tummy feeling is dissipating. Some sort of inner calm suddenly appeared from somewhere without even knowing how many eggs she got. The “5 egg fiasco” has not been repeated it the 1st response my brain can come up with, it has to be better than that, surely…

We arrive, bedside…

One very groggy (spot free ) leopard looks up, brings a weak smile to her face and says one number: “25”

“Holly shit!”, Mr IVF drops out there casually and maybe a little too loudly. (fyi – no egg bingo was played due to the high chances of emotions being shredded, but a poll of the IVF team post retrieval lead to a conclusion that our wildest thinking would have peaked around 10-15) 

The baby maker dropped around and said “I have lost count, but they are still shifting through the follilce good and are up around 26-27.” The embryolgist babymaker / elf (not sure where they fit, they are probably the true baby makers) dropped around  and confirmed the 25 – a personal best for Mrs IVF. Mr IVF also managed to knock out a 10million sample of baby batter so a PB there as well. (3 million higher that previous PB on my backup store on Friday and around double the long term average) 

So – one hurdle down but oh boy, we have so far to go and we know mother nature and her bricks live around here, so we are very very happy for where we stand with two PB’s in a day but know all too well how any sort of positivity can be snatched away from you at any point.

So here are the remaining hurdles:

hurdle 2: # mature (tomorrow)

hurdle 3:  # fertilized (tomorrow)

hurdle 4: # that make it to blast for microarray testing (Monday)

hurdle 5: get 1 or 2 for transfer back in. (4-6 weeks from now)

Here’s the punchline if we can get through these next 4 hurdles we have a 77% chance of pregnancy and a 73% chance of going full term. (These pretty amazing  stats are based on an average age of 38 y.o and 1.9 transfers, which is the population that has been through thsi to date)

So there it is in black and white. Thanks (again) for your kind and positive posts.

Enter the coasting leopard

We packed up the ice pack full of drugs  and headed off into the mountains again yesterday. After swinging through the north west on Saturday, we headed south west yesterday and crircled up notrh up through the ski fields. We stopped around 2.30 in the middle of nowhere and took the shot of Cetrotide. Todays view was of an enormous field with a stunning forrest of pines in the background. Futher back a thunderstorm was rumbling over yet another series of gorgeous mountain. Beautiful stuff. On the other side of the road was a paddock with around 1 dozen cows starting at us and wondering what we were up to. Clearly either excited by our presence or just bored,  a few of them were particulalry horny and just got into it. Well, tried to get into it. We took this as a good omen. Some sort of planets aligning type thing. Cows humping in a paddock and Mrs IVF taking more IVF related drugs in her pin cushion gut merely meters away in this beautiful setting. A message from the horny cow gods of Colorado that they are with us no doubt.

Our elf called around 2pm yesterday with another vmail telling us no stims at all overnight. Oh boy.  We listened to it again, yep, no Menopur and no gonal F, just keep on the Cetrotide (which keeps the ovulation at bay). Our 1st thought “what must the E2 be?”. Mrs IVF proceeded to tell me that in IVF blogland this is knows as “coasting” and is quite common. We have no idea if it’s successful, but well, at least we arent going to cook Mrs IVF organs as quick as we would at the prevailing stim levels.

So on the way into scans this am we kicked off a game of E2 bingo. (Remember the last 3 days? 1,700; 1,850; 2,550. ) Mrs IVF Final offer: 3,400. Mr IVF’s locked in bid: 3,200. Result: 4,500. We should have phoned a friend. We weren’t even close.  Wow – time to get on the gatorade big time.

The scan yesterday showed an enormous pile of black holes which reminded me a of a wildlife show we were watching last night. “I think my ovaries look like a leopard” says Mrs IVF as we watch said creature with her cub trying to gnaw through some frozen prey on some tundra somewhere snowy and cold looking. “A leopard” says Mr IVF, leaving it there and pondering the similarities and wondering what sort of side effect these drugs have and if recognizing yourself as a leopard, is one of the more common ones.

This morning as our scanning elf tried to count all the follies at the same time recounting her recent trip to Australia, Mrs IVF leant over to the hub chair and with a grin in her heads said “see, told you, Leopard”.

We’ll, dear leopard, you have reached the peak of your stim mountain and your trigger is scheduled. 10pm tonight for the tigger for a 9am retrieval on Wednesday.

Here we go again, the rollercoaster is just about to peak. Hang on folks, the leopard and her wing man are going for a ride.

In Denver

Update from Denver…

Arrived tonight after one of the most uneventful flights of my life which is (a) perfect and (b) very rare in the domestic US airline marketplace these days.  We had a carry on bag packed to the hilt with drugs, ice blocks and insulated bags that if I was a TSA agent would raise some suspicion, but they didn’t even look, ask to look or show much care at all. Thank you for your tips, you were right – no issue.

On the ovary growing front we had a scan yesterday back at the old clinic with the mechanic (for those of you who remember old posts). We had around 18 follicles with 1 at 10mm and the rest lest than 9.  So I guess thats good, but we have been down the nice follice count / few egg path before (last cycle 18  17-18mm follicles, E2 at 4,000 but only 5 eggs and still no explanation)

We have been stimming away on 300 units of Gonal F at night and 2 viles of menopur in the morning. So to me  -that’s quite a dose. Mrs IVF is starting to bloat and we are almost at the stage of dinner out with the pants down (well the top button not done up). Last few times we were generally doing just 300 a day of the gonal F (150 night and morning). The other thing we are doing now is strictly timing shots. 9am and 9pm NY / 7pm and 7am Denver time now we are here.

Coming in to land tonight I came up with another thought around what IVF is like (long term readers amongst you know how I develop all these parallels / comparisons)….When I was a teenager I remember going on a night hike back in Australia with the scout troop I was in. I have done this particular track many times and knew it very well but hadn’t done it in a while and hadn’t done it at night. One part of this track is very a very steep decent into a huge valley so you zig zag across the side of the valley slowly going down.  Over time a path straight down the mountain had developed and we often just ran down that which was a great buzz (but prob not great for the landscape), so that’s what I decided to do in the dark this one night, run the shortcut. One minute I was flying along roaring down the hill wind in my hair have a great time in the pitch dark and the next, all I remember is alot of pain across my chest, my stomach and my shins and then being flow back against the ground and lying there wounded in extreme pain. What had happen was that I had run full speed into a crude wire fence  made with three wires some rangers had put up to stop clowns like me doing what I was doing. No one runs down this thing at night so its hardly a health hazard, except for fools like me and I didn’t see it coming and hit it at full speed (I actually could see wire marks in my body when we got back after the hike… it hurt like hell, but looked impressive enough!)…. so the link to IVF? Well – you can feel you can be cruising along at any point , but really, you are in the dark, you are in control of very little, and out there is a wire fence for us to slam into as soon as we start to get revved up and these wire fences aren’t friendly, they don’t half hurt, they only dish out extreme pain. Maybe we’ll miss a fence, but who knows – we are putting everything into this – it has 100% of our attention and effort and out there is an inconvenient fence, just waiting.

A similar though I also had. This whole IVF process is like running around in a dark room with someone else (lets call her mother nature) in the room randomly throwing bricks. She is not necessarily trying to hit you, but her job is to throw bricks and sometimes they connect with you. Wasn’t intentional, you were just in the way of a random happening and remember she’s not throwing marsh mellows, they’re bricks. Again – you don’t half hurt through this stuff. Fertiles of course – run around with the lights in the room on.

So with that I’ll leave you. I think our fears are clear – can we grow to blast, (haven’t done that since cycle 1 as we have always trf before that), can we get through CGH with a biologically sound embryo and well oh geez, can we get through all this?

Next scan 7.30 tomorrow (central baby factory time). Will keep you posted

Thanks again for the posts and well wishes. They really are appreciated.

Planet Plankton

So, last night I wrote about wrapping up some loose ends. I wouldn’t bother to comment on it today as it was something that plankton could sort out, but, well, no… it cant be that easy – this is IVF land – nothing comes without a long ,hard slog in IVF land.

Goals:

(A) 1 letter from a “super specialist on female bits” (perinatologist) giving the all clear.

(B) 1 lab report from this mornings scan to go to the elves in Colorado.

Get this and a thumbs up from the gourmet baby makers and we are good to go.

Timeline: Need to be done today to get all clear for stims tomorrow morning

Background:

(A) Mrs IVF met 4 weeks ago and has been dealing with sub plankton since trying to get this frikkin letter. Here’s how it plays out.. Mrs IVF enters stage left:

Mrs IVF – calls plankton at the super specialist office – “we faxed it:”… then Colorado Elves: “we didn’t get it”. Calls plankton: “yep – we sent it”. Mrs IVF “What number did you send it to?” Plank: “bla bla bla” Mango Princess: yep thats correct”… Calls Elves – “we still don’t have it”. Call Plankton “it doesn’t sound like a dr surgery when we fax” (not sure what the English translation of that planktonese comment is) . Mango: “Can you fax it to me?”. Plankton “no, against the rules, but we did fax it to your standard gyno”. (Enter standard gyno elf”… stage right) ” Do you have a fax from the plankton?” No”…. Mango calls Plankton, “we’ll fax it again, I’m walking to the machine to do it now”. Call Gyno elf “nope – still dont have it”.. Mrs IVF calls Mr IVF and updates in situation. Mr IVF feels that he should quit work for the day and walk this fcking thing around. Mrs IVF calls plankton – “we sent it”….call’s gyno elf and they now have it. “fax it to me please” says Mrs IVF. Mrs IVF gets fax (on 1st attempt!!) and faxes it to Mr IVF who jumps in and out of a few big meetings picks up the fax, turns it over and scans it back in as an email and emails it back to mrs IVF who emails it to the elves to avoid this fax fiasco. Elves are happy. Mrs IVF is shattered and exhausted.

(B) lab report. NJ clinic elf (our last Dr’s are helping us with scans locally) faxes report through to Colorado elf. Colorado elf rings mrs IVF, “didn’t get the scans”. “What scans? Thought you wanted the lab report?” Rings old elf, who says scans don’t fax well. Checks again with new elf. Oh no, we want the last page of the lab report, don’t need scans. Calls old elf, please re fax. New elf happy with new fax. Mission accomplished.

Mrs IVF is shattered and through all of this (through regular instant message updates) Mr IVF pauses for thought and thinks:

” We aren’t trying to build a nuclear reactor, build a 6 flags amusement park in North Korea, or even fine tune the last couple of tweaks to the plans for the next chunk of the international space station, we are just TRYING to get the opportunity to TRY and have a kid. We arent even at the drug stage yet, we haven’t really done anything yet, and at 4pm this afternoon with mintues running out of the IVF world’s day (which we all know shuts down at 4.30 with out fail), we could blow this whole thing up! (the timing’s we’ve tweaked, the $$ on logistics, the $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ on the baby makers, the lot) and you know what – the fertiles don’t have a clue. They go to dinner, drink, poke, sleep and pee on a stick in a few weeks, and pop down to toys are us and build the baby gift registry. Job done.  We are struggling to even get to first base – fuck – 1st base… no, 1st base is too late in the scenario…. we cant even close the deal on a vacant block of land that we want to build a stadium on, recruit a team, deny they sleep with Madonna, join a baseball league, buy some uniforms, oh and a bat and ball and a few mitts, advertise to fans, arrange the merchandise, order the hot dogs and beers, find someone to play against, schedule a game and then get everyone there and THEN try and get to 1st base.

And after all that the baby makers came back with a question on the letter from the super specialist… “lets chat to them Monday…” oh boy……fck it – we’re going

Hey – thanks for the travel thoughts and well wishes!!! We have packed all the well wishes and we’re taking them with us!

One last thing… wwalking home tonight after all of this I saw a women from out of town who was completely lost on the subway in NY. She was really friendly, but a bit stressed so the response from NY’ers to help her was pretty amazing… 2 mins later I’m walking past an old woman (who I am pretty sure was homeless) who was laser focused on counting small change on a cardboard mat.. and walked on thinking about our day and these random instances and how we all need something.. directions… a meal.. a kid..  I walked back to the old woman and gave her $25. Her face lit up she crossed herself and beamed a smile. I walked away and checked back and she was now laser focused on counting her notes (with that grin). So while I guess we are going to Denver for our long period of help, it felt great to help someone NOW.