I had my beta HCG test on a Thursday, exactly 2 weeks after my first IUI. I got the call that afternoon at work. BFN. If you aren't familiar with IF slang, that stands for Big Fat Negative. Although I've seen a few other, uh... suggestions for the "F" in that acronym. I wasn't actually by my phone when the call came, which was kind of a good thing. Because then I was able to wait to listen to the message until I was ready. I already had a bad feeling about it. I mainly didn't want to hear bad news sitting in my office which I share with my co-worker (S) who, at the time, was about 7 months pregnant. S knew about my situation and had always been sensitive and supportive. Nevertheless, there are some things you just can't put yourself through and for me, finding out the (possibly negative) results of my pregnancy test was NOT something I could do sitting 4 feet from a very pregnant friend.
The message was from Cookie. She didn't beat around the bush. She said that unfortunately, she wasn't calling with good news, my test was negative and Dr. B wanted me to stop all medications and wait for my period to arrive. She said to call back if I had questions. I felt the tears sting my eyes and I fought to keep from letting them go. I don't like to cry anywhere, and especially not at work. I didn't want to have to explain to everyone why I was crying. Eventually I would cry - but I wanted to be at home with Paul when that happened. I sent him a quick text message, three words: Test was negative. He said he was sorry and asked if I was ok. I said no and that I couldn't call him then because I didn't want to lose it. I sat at my desk for a few minutes and focused on slowing my breathing. Then, when the coast seemed clear, I darted down the hall to the bathroom. I spent a good 10 minutes holed up in a stall with a wet paper towel over my eyes before I emerged, hoping that the redness had dissipated.
Later that evening, I cried while Paul rubbed my back and tried to console me. When I was all cried out, I did the one thing I knew to do to help myself move on. I got on the computer and started reading about IVF. I also did a little research on IUI success rates - something I hadn't actually looked up yet. Turns out, IUI success rates are not very high. In fact, they're actually lower than IVF. Most reports gave rates in the range of 5-20%. I was surprised, but oddly comforted. Somehow it felt less like my fault knowing that it had been unlikely to succeed in the first place. And it made me feel much better about starting IVF - something that had a better chance of success.
Showing posts with label IUI #1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IUI #1. Show all posts
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Part 21: Yuck!
The treatment plan for our IUI cycle included luteal phase uterine support. Dr. B had explained that the uterus needs to be "sticky" for the fertilized egg to properly implant. In order to ensure that my uterus was sticky enough, I was supposed to self-administer progesterone vaginal suppositories twice a day starting the day after my second IUI. If you've never used these before, consider yourself lucky...
The suppositories come as white tablets that are inserted vaginally using an applicator (kind of like for a yeast infection, but less squishy). The insertion part isn't bad - it's what happens about 4-6 hours after that is so disturbing. Basically, the progesterone is dissolved and (hopefully) absorbed. But there's all this discharge that is produced in the process and eventually, it starts drizzling out. We're not talking normal discharge. It's thick and white - and even a little bit chunky (gah... I just gagged a little when I wrote that - sorry!). It was enough that I needed to wear a pantyliner (or several). And it made me itchy and kind of dry down there. Gross.
BUT... you do what you gotta do to have a baby, right? I returned for a blood draw one week after my trigger shot. I secretly hoped that my progesterone level would come back so high that I would be allowed to quit the suppositories. Of course, that isn't how it works. But the good news was that my level was good, so I was at least allowed to stay with the twice a day regimen (as opposed to going up to 3 times a day). They also scheduled me for my pregnancy test the following week. The trouble with progesterone is that the side effects mimic pregnancy. So I was experiencing things like random nausea, hot flashes, and sore boobs. All of which could indicate pregnancy...
Needless to say, I was glad to have a distraction during the two week wait (2WW). My cousin was getting married in Texas and we were headed down for a long weekend to join in the festivities. Of course, that meant hauling my supply of suppositories along for the trip and having to mess with all that nastiness in a dress. But I survived. And I got to see and talk to Uncle K. I gave him the update on the situation, and he asked what the next step would be if the IUI didn't work. I told him we would be starting IVF next - assuming of course that I wasn't pregnant already. He asked what our clinic's policy was regarding how many embryos would be transferred at a time and what would be done with the remaining embryos. They were questions I hadn't really thought about a whole lot yet - mainly because I was hoping we wouldn't get to that stage. Nevertheless, it was a good conversation to think about.
The suppositories come as white tablets that are inserted vaginally using an applicator (kind of like for a yeast infection, but less squishy). The insertion part isn't bad - it's what happens about 4-6 hours after that is so disturbing. Basically, the progesterone is dissolved and (hopefully) absorbed. But there's all this discharge that is produced in the process and eventually, it starts drizzling out. We're not talking normal discharge. It's thick and white - and even a little bit chunky (gah... I just gagged a little when I wrote that - sorry!). It was enough that I needed to wear a pantyliner (or several). And it made me itchy and kind of dry down there. Gross.
BUT... you do what you gotta do to have a baby, right? I returned for a blood draw one week after my trigger shot. I secretly hoped that my progesterone level would come back so high that I would be allowed to quit the suppositories. Of course, that isn't how it works. But the good news was that my level was good, so I was at least allowed to stay with the twice a day regimen (as opposed to going up to 3 times a day). They also scheduled me for my pregnancy test the following week. The trouble with progesterone is that the side effects mimic pregnancy. So I was experiencing things like random nausea, hot flashes, and sore boobs. All of which could indicate pregnancy...
Needless to say, I was glad to have a distraction during the two week wait (2WW). My cousin was getting married in Texas and we were headed down for a long weekend to join in the festivities. Of course, that meant hauling my supply of suppositories along for the trip and having to mess with all that nastiness in a dress. But I survived. And I got to see and talk to Uncle K. I gave him the update on the situation, and he asked what the next step would be if the IUI didn't work. I told him we would be starting IVF next - assuming of course that I wasn't pregnant already. He asked what our clinic's policy was regarding how many embryos would be transferred at a time and what would be done with the remaining embryos. They were questions I hadn't really thought about a whole lot yet - mainly because I was hoping we wouldn't get to that stage. Nevertheless, it was a good conversation to think about.
Part 20: Time to Baste!
We arrived at the clinic early, which was good since Paul had to get to work. Technically I did too, but in his line of work, shift starts at 7:00 a.m. and there's no such thing as coming in late. Fortunately, he works with some good guys, a couple of whom have been down this same road themselves, who are willing to help cover a couple of hours here and there so he can be with me for appointments. He was taken back to make his deposit and I had a seat in the waiting area. One thing no on had warned us about was how long it would take for the lab to process and prepare a fresh sample for IUI. A half an hour after Paul joined me in the waiting area, we still hadn't been called back and he was running out of time. He needed to catch a particular train to get to the town where he works in time to relieve the guy who was covering for him. He couldn't really wait any longer without running the risk of missing his train. As much as I didn't want to do the IUI by myself for the first time, we didn't really have any choice. He kissed me goodbye and wished me luck.
Another 45 minutes crept by, and I went to ask for an update. I was a little worried they might have forgotten about me! I was told that the lab was just finishing up with our sample and that they would be calling me back shortly. About 10 minutes later, a nurse I hadn't seen before (we'll call her Baby Mama - since that's what the other nurses call her) took me back to an exam room. She told me to undress from the waist down, cover up with a paper sheet and sit on the table. A few minutes later, she returned along with the andrologist from the lab.
The andrologist showed me a small syringe filled with a milky fluid and labeled with our names and birth dates. I'll admit I was a little sad that it wasn't a turkey baster :) She asked me to read both our names and birth dates out loud. Then she showed them to Baby Mama and asked her to do the same. I suppose it is a good thing that they double- and triple-check these things. I wonder what they would do if there was a mix-up? The andrologist left and Baby Mama told me to lay back and assume the position. While I did that, she showed me the stats on our sperm sample. I don't remember the exact numbers, but it was something like like this:
Before she left, Baby Mama set a timer on the counter and told me to lie on the table with my knees bent until the timer buzzed (about 10-15 minutes). When it went off, I would be free to go for the day. I could go to work and whatnot, but was to avoid exercising or anything else too "bouncy" for a few days. She also said I might see some spotting and/or feel kind of crampy and bloated. She assured me this was normal. While I waited for the timer, I texted Paul to tell him about his "stellar" contribution to the day. He thought that was pretty funny. When my time was up, I got dressed and left for work. I did have a little spotting that afternoon, and it definitely felt weird down there (for lack of a better word). I could only hope that these were good signs.
We returned to the clinic the next morning for day 2 of the IUI. It was pretty much the same thing, except this time we were prepared for the long wait for the lab. This time, our IUI nurse was Cookie. She proclaimed it to be another "outstanding" sample and I swear Paul looked like he was going to burst with pride. He even whipped out his cell phone to text the guys at work to brag about it. Men are so weird. Cookie was a little rough with the speculum - it took a lot of rummaging around to get it into place, which was pretty unpleasant. Finally she got it locked into position and was able to insert the catheter and the rest was fine. The room we were in didn't have a timer so she said to watch the clock and then we could leave. I felt a little sore afterwards, probably from all the digging. There was also more spotting that day. By the afternoon, I was feeling kind of icky - sort of that "I'm-about-to-get-my-period" crampy feeling - and ended up leaving work a couple hours early. Since none of my symptoms seemed out of the ordinary based on what I'd read, I continued to hope that they were a good sign of things to come...
Another 45 minutes crept by, and I went to ask for an update. I was a little worried they might have forgotten about me! I was told that the lab was just finishing up with our sample and that they would be calling me back shortly. About 10 minutes later, a nurse I hadn't seen before (we'll call her Baby Mama - since that's what the other nurses call her) took me back to an exam room. She told me to undress from the waist down, cover up with a paper sheet and sit on the table. A few minutes later, she returned along with the andrologist from the lab.
The andrologist showed me a small syringe filled with a milky fluid and labeled with our names and birth dates. I'll admit I was a little sad that it wasn't a turkey baster :) She asked me to read both our names and birth dates out loud. Then she showed them to Baby Mama and asked her to do the same. I suppose it is a good thing that they double- and triple-check these things. I wonder what they would do if there was a mix-up? The andrologist left and Baby Mama told me to lay back and assume the position. While I did that, she showed me the stats on our sperm sample. I don't remember the exact numbers, but it was something like like this:
- They wanted at least 40% motility - Paul's was over 95%
- They wanted, say, 20 million per mL - Paul's was something ridiculous along the lines of 150 million
Before she left, Baby Mama set a timer on the counter and told me to lie on the table with my knees bent until the timer buzzed (about 10-15 minutes). When it went off, I would be free to go for the day. I could go to work and whatnot, but was to avoid exercising or anything else too "bouncy" for a few days. She also said I might see some spotting and/or feel kind of crampy and bloated. She assured me this was normal. While I waited for the timer, I texted Paul to tell him about his "stellar" contribution to the day. He thought that was pretty funny. When my time was up, I got dressed and left for work. I did have a little spotting that afternoon, and it definitely felt weird down there (for lack of a better word). I could only hope that these were good signs.
We returned to the clinic the next morning for day 2 of the IUI. It was pretty much the same thing, except this time we were prepared for the long wait for the lab. This time, our IUI nurse was Cookie. She proclaimed it to be another "outstanding" sample and I swear Paul looked like he was going to burst with pride. He even whipped out his cell phone to text the guys at work to brag about it. Men are so weird. Cookie was a little rough with the speculum - it took a lot of rummaging around to get it into place, which was pretty unpleasant. Finally she got it locked into position and was able to insert the catheter and the rest was fine. The room we were in didn't have a timer so she said to watch the clock and then we could leave. I felt a little sore afterwards, probably from all the digging. There was also more spotting that day. By the afternoon, I was feeling kind of icky - sort of that "I'm-about-to-get-my-period" crampy feeling - and ended up leaving work a couple hours early. Since none of my symptoms seemed out of the ordinary based on what I'd read, I continued to hope that they were a good sign of things to come...
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Part 19: Pre-IUI Festivities
Having sidestepped the whole delay-by-genetic-testing fiasco, I was ready to hit the road running with our IUI cycle. I picked up my prescription for Clomid that afternoon, along with one for the antibiotic I was supposed to take for the SSH. That evening, I re-read everything in my IUI packet and contemplated making an IF binder to organize it all. I'm definitely NOT organized in all areas of my life, but I love the idea of organization. And I love office supplies. So whenever I can find a way to use office supplies to organize something, I'm much more motivated to do so!
As it turned out, I didn't get around to organizing my IF stuff that night, but I did start my 6th (and final) Clomid cycle. And the next day at work (on my lunch break) I made an IUI calendar for myself to keep track of everything. Yes, I know it is the 21st century and there are phone apps and Outlook and gmail calendars for all of that, and I do use them. But I mainly wanted something that I could tape up in my bathroom to remind me what to do on a daily basis. Because let's face it, I'm not usually at full mental capacity when I stagger into my bathroom at 5:30 a.m. and have been known to forget all about pee-sticking (new term I picked up somewhere online - I kind of like it!). I was really proud of my calendar, and not just because I used highlighters and different color pens to make it. I even came up with a nice code to remind us which days were off limits for doing the tango. Because even though it was on the wall in the little bathroom inside our master bedroom, you just never want to have to explain to nosy company why you have a calendar with a bunch of numbers and the words "NO SEX!" written all over it. That's awkward.
Here's a pic of my personalized IUI calendar:
Here's a rundown of the days leading up to the actual IUI:
Cycle day 3: This was the baseline blood and U/S day that almost ended in not getting to start treatment (see Part 18). Fortunately, it ended up being Clomid dose 1.
Cycle day 4: Clomid dose 2 and antibiotic dose 1. This was the day before my SSH, so no tango allowed. Started to feel the familiar Clomid effects - nothing new to report there. Here's a pic of all the medications, supplements, and vitamins I was now taking:
Cycle day 5: Clomid dose 3 and antibiotic dose 2. This was also SSH day. I wasn't very nervous about it, since everything I had read seemed to suggest that the HSG was way worse than this would be. Sure enough, as the tech got me prepped for the test she talked about how it would be much less painful, etc. Since the HSG hadn't actually been all that bad for me, I figured this would be a piece of cake. And I was right. Dr. B herself came to do my exam. She used a speculum to insert a catheter, then took the speculum out and inserted the dildocam. Honestly, I think the worst part of either the HSG or SSH is that nasty speculum - so cold and metallic. Anyway, once the dildocam was in place, she injected the saline and proceeded to talk me through everything on the screen. The verdict: passed with flying colors. She said my uterus and ovaries looked fantastic - not a bit of scar tissue or blockage in sight. And there were follicles growing! Based on their size, she estimated that I'd be ready for the IUI in about a week. She said to plan for another U/S after the weekend and we would know more at that point.
Cycle day 6: Clomid dose 4 and final antibiotic dose. More dizziness and lack of appetite, but otherwise nothing too exciting.
Cycle day 7: Clomid dose 5 (last one!). It had also been a while since our last tango, what with AF and all the restrictions around the SSH test. Turns out, not doing the tango for too long can be just as problematic as doing it too close to the IUI time. In terms of sperm count and quality - or something like that. And since we were making back-up plans to freeze a sample beforehand (just in case Paul's work schedule didn't allow him to be present on one or both IUI days), we needed to tango a couple of days before he went in to deposit that sample. So we did.
Cycle day 8: No drugs to take (except for the herbal supplements my acupuncturist had me on - which Dr. B had approved!) and no tango allowed. But I did get to start pee-sticking. It was pretty early, but I didn't want to miss anything either. Fun times.
Cycle day 9: Same story as day 8. Still no smiley (not surprising).
Cycle day 10: Pee-stick was negative still. Bloodwork and U/S to check my progress. Deposit Day for Paul. While they were drawing my blood, Brownie came to talk to me about the trigger shot (the one containing human chorionic gonadotropin or HCG). This shot "triggers" the ovaries to ovulate so that you can control the timing. It would be my first self-injection and she just wanted to make sure I didn't have any concerns or questions. My main concern was that I still didn't have the shot, as there had been some delay with the mail order pharmacy. But they had assured me it would arrive on the following day, and Brownie thought that would be soon enough. Later that afternoon, Brownie called with my test results and said I should trigger the following evening (between 6-10 p.m.). I asked if it would matter whether I saw a smiley on the pee stick that morning or not, and she said no, but to keep pee-sticking so we would know when it did appear. IUI would then occur the 2 consecutive days after I triggered.
Cycle day 11: Pee-stick negative again. Worked from home since the pharmacy required someone to be present to sign for the delivery and make sure the pre-filled syringe was properly stowed in the refrigerator - thank goodness for a flexible and understanding boss! Delivery arrived late-morning and I unpacked the syringe. There was an awful lot of packing for one tiny syringe!
I read through all the instructions that came with the package. Needles don't really bother me so I wasn't dreading it or anything. But I was worried about somehow doing wrong! That evening, I told Paul I wanted him to do the stabbing. I picked the spot and cleaned it and he got the syringe out and ready. It was just a tiny little needle - the kind used for insulin injections. I barely even felt it. That night I went to sleep feeling nervously anticipatory.
Cycle day 12 (pre-IUI): Practically bounced out of bed (never happens to me). Did a little pee-sticking and there was a smiley! I knew then that the trigger shot had worked, because I never get a smiley as early as day 12. We got in the car and headed to the clinic...
As it turned out, I didn't get around to organizing my IF stuff that night, but I did start my 6th (and final) Clomid cycle. And the next day at work (on my lunch break) I made an IUI calendar for myself to keep track of everything. Yes, I know it is the 21st century and there are phone apps and Outlook and gmail calendars for all of that, and I do use them. But I mainly wanted something that I could tape up in my bathroom to remind me what to do on a daily basis. Because let's face it, I'm not usually at full mental capacity when I stagger into my bathroom at 5:30 a.m. and have been known to forget all about pee-sticking (new term I picked up somewhere online - I kind of like it!). I was really proud of my calendar, and not just because I used highlighters and different color pens to make it. I even came up with a nice code to remind us which days were off limits for doing the tango. Because even though it was on the wall in the little bathroom inside our master bedroom, you just never want to have to explain to nosy company why you have a calendar with a bunch of numbers and the words "NO SEX!" written all over it. That's awkward.
Here's a pic of my personalized IUI calendar:
Here's a rundown of the days leading up to the actual IUI:
Cycle day 3: This was the baseline blood and U/S day that almost ended in not getting to start treatment (see Part 18). Fortunately, it ended up being Clomid dose 1.
Cycle day 4: Clomid dose 2 and antibiotic dose 1. This was the day before my SSH, so no tango allowed. Started to feel the familiar Clomid effects - nothing new to report there. Here's a pic of all the medications, supplements, and vitamins I was now taking:
(That's a pumpkin on the right. I have no idea why we still had a pumpkin sitting in our kitchen in the middle of February. But just to clarify - the pumpkin was not part of my regimen.)
Cycle day 5: Clomid dose 3 and antibiotic dose 2. This was also SSH day. I wasn't very nervous about it, since everything I had read seemed to suggest that the HSG was way worse than this would be. Sure enough, as the tech got me prepped for the test she talked about how it would be much less painful, etc. Since the HSG hadn't actually been all that bad for me, I figured this would be a piece of cake. And I was right. Dr. B herself came to do my exam. She used a speculum to insert a catheter, then took the speculum out and inserted the dildocam. Honestly, I think the worst part of either the HSG or SSH is that nasty speculum - so cold and metallic. Anyway, once the dildocam was in place, she injected the saline and proceeded to talk me through everything on the screen. The verdict: passed with flying colors. She said my uterus and ovaries looked fantastic - not a bit of scar tissue or blockage in sight. And there were follicles growing! Based on their size, she estimated that I'd be ready for the IUI in about a week. She said to plan for another U/S after the weekend and we would know more at that point.
Cycle day 6: Clomid dose 4 and final antibiotic dose. More dizziness and lack of appetite, but otherwise nothing too exciting.
Cycle day 7: Clomid dose 5 (last one!). It had also been a while since our last tango, what with AF and all the restrictions around the SSH test. Turns out, not doing the tango for too long can be just as problematic as doing it too close to the IUI time. In terms of sperm count and quality - or something like that. And since we were making back-up plans to freeze a sample beforehand (just in case Paul's work schedule didn't allow him to be present on one or both IUI days), we needed to tango a couple of days before he went in to deposit that sample. So we did.
Cycle day 8: No drugs to take (except for the herbal supplements my acupuncturist had me on - which Dr. B had approved!) and no tango allowed. But I did get to start pee-sticking. It was pretty early, but I didn't want to miss anything either. Fun times.
Cycle day 9: Same story as day 8. Still no smiley (not surprising).
Cycle day 10: Pee-stick was negative still. Bloodwork and U/S to check my progress. Deposit Day for Paul. While they were drawing my blood, Brownie came to talk to me about the trigger shot (the one containing human chorionic gonadotropin or HCG). This shot "triggers" the ovaries to ovulate so that you can control the timing. It would be my first self-injection and she just wanted to make sure I didn't have any concerns or questions. My main concern was that I still didn't have the shot, as there had been some delay with the mail order pharmacy. But they had assured me it would arrive on the following day, and Brownie thought that would be soon enough. Later that afternoon, Brownie called with my test results and said I should trigger the following evening (between 6-10 p.m.). I asked if it would matter whether I saw a smiley on the pee stick that morning or not, and she said no, but to keep pee-sticking so we would know when it did appear. IUI would then occur the 2 consecutive days after I triggered.
Cycle day 11: Pee-stick negative again. Worked from home since the pharmacy required someone to be present to sign for the delivery and make sure the pre-filled syringe was properly stowed in the refrigerator - thank goodness for a flexible and understanding boss! Delivery arrived late-morning and I unpacked the syringe. There was an awful lot of packing for one tiny syringe!
I read through all the instructions that came with the package. Needles don't really bother me so I wasn't dreading it or anything. But I was worried about somehow doing wrong! That evening, I told Paul I wanted him to do the stabbing. I picked the spot and cleaned it and he got the syringe out and ready. It was just a tiny little needle - the kind used for insulin injections. I barely even felt it. That night I went to sleep feeling nervously anticipatory.
Cycle day 12 (pre-IUI): Practically bounced out of bed (never happens to me). Did a little pee-sticking and there was a smiley! I knew then that the trigger shot had worked, because I never get a smiley as early as day 12. We got in the car and headed to the clinic...
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Part 18: A Bump in the Road
The days flew by and AF arrived right on schedule on January 28. A tiny part of me had hoped that maybe, just maaaaaaaaybe, I'd get pregnant the old-fashioned way that month. Of course, the chances of that were probably pretty slim, especially since we didn't really try to time things accordingly, so it was more of a wishful thinking as opposed to an actual hope. And for the first time in a LONG time, I was actually looking forward to the arrival of AF. I was ready to get the ball rolling!
AF came on the weekend, so I called Monday and left a message for Brownie. Another nurse (Cookie? sure - why not) called back that afternoon and scheduled me for Day 3 bloodwork and ultrasound the following morning. I realized after hanging up that I had forgotten to ask about the Clomid script, but figured I could pick it up in the morning. I arrived at the clinic, bright and early, on Day 3 and was taken back to the ultrasound waiting area. This time at least, I was prepared for the dildocam. The tech introduced herself, told me to undress from the waist down (no gown!) and cover myself with a paper sheet. Once my feet were in the stirrups, she told me to "reach down and guide it in." That caught me off guard a bit, until I remembered one of my friends (as an OB patient) had been given the option of having the wand inserted or inserting it herself. She said she preferred to do it herself in terms of comfort. So I tried to act nonchalant and reached for the dildocam. Eww. Anyway, the exam was brief. She measured my uterus and ovaries, and pointed out the follicles that were already visible for the upcoming IUI cycle.
After that, I got dressed and headed over to the phlebotomy waiting area. After a few minutes, my name was called and they took me into the lab. Since we were opting to do the genetic screening, there were some additional consent forms/signatures required. The phlebotomist explained that by signing, I was agreeing to foot the bill for the screening in the event that it wasn't covered under our insurance plan. It wasn't outrageous ($300) so I signed away and watched as she pulled tubes in preparation for my blood draw. Now, I am a trained phlebotomist myself, although I don't do it on a regular basis anymore. But I know my veins and I know what is (or isn't) good technique, so I like to watch. The tech wasn't overly impressed with my veins. I have one (very small) vein in my right arm. One. My left arm has none. Not even my phlebotomy instructor was willing to attempt a draw from that side. Other than that, I have my hands, which are decent. But it was a lot of tubes, and hand veins are sometimes weak and easily collapsible, so she wanted to try for the one in my arm. She took her time finding it, but got it on the first stick. I watched as the blood flowed into the tubes, feeling excited and anticipatory.
Afterwards, she handed me my papers and sent me on my way to check-out. It wasn't until I was in the parking garage getting ready to leave that I remembered I had meant to ask about the Clomid. But since they were going to call later that afternoon with my lab results, I figured I would just give them my pharmacy info then and all would be fine.
Remember the roller coaster? It came back. Cookie called that afternoon, as promised, and said that everything came back great. My ultrasound looked good and my blood tests were all in line. And then she dropped a bomb. She said that since we had consented to genetic screening, we would need to wait until those results came back before starting any treatment. Since those tests are performed by an outside lab, the turnaround time is usually a couple of weeks. She said to call back in a month at the start of my next cycle and then we would start the IUI cycle.
I was speechless, I literally didn't know what to say and probably stammered incoherently for a bit before finally voicing my objection. That wasn't what we were told. We were told we'd be doing the IUI this cycle. Cookie explained that the clinic had passed a new policy that had gone into effect that Monday, even though it wasn't fully implemented yet, which mandated that results of genetic testing (if performed) had to be available prior to the start of a treatment cycle. I tried to keep my voice level and my tone steady as I stated that while I understood this was a new change, I had not been informed of that at the time of my blood draw that morning. I emphasized that if I had known about the new policy, it would likely have affected my decision to do the genetic screening. It wasn't something that either Paul or I had felt strongly about doing, and our interest in the results was purely informational.
Cookie apologized that I hadn't been notified of the policy that morning, but seemed hesitant as she explained that for some couples, results of genetic testing, particularly if they are not favorable, can have a huge impact on treatment decisions and outcomes. I assured her, politely but firmly, that Paul and I had no intention of basing our treatment decisions on the results of these tests. I also stressed that we had already planned our entire month's schedule around the upcoming IUI cycle and were anxious to move things along sooner rather than later. Finally, Cookie relented and said that if we wanted to sign a waiver, stating that we were waiving our right to receive test results prior to treatment, we could go ahead and start the IUI cycle. I gave Cookie my pharmacy info to call in the Clomid and she transferred me to the schedulers to arrange my SSH appointment, which would need to be done prior to the actual IUI.
It wasn't until after hanging up that I realized I was shaking. It wasn't out of anger, although I'd certainly been upset and frustrated during the call. It was more like the shakiness you feel after an adrenaline rush - like when you've narrowly avoided a car collision and you realize your muscles have tensed up in anticipation and your heart is racing and you can literally feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. The old fight or flight response. That's what IF feels like. That's the roller coaster effect. One minute, you're in a positive glass-half-full mood, ready to launch into action. The next, you've come to a screeching halt, maybe even started to plummet downward.
Thankfully, this time, I was able to stand and fight. And what could have been a major letdown ended up being just another bump in our IF road.....
AF came on the weekend, so I called Monday and left a message for Brownie. Another nurse (Cookie? sure - why not) called back that afternoon and scheduled me for Day 3 bloodwork and ultrasound the following morning. I realized after hanging up that I had forgotten to ask about the Clomid script, but figured I could pick it up in the morning. I arrived at the clinic, bright and early, on Day 3 and was taken back to the ultrasound waiting area. This time at least, I was prepared for the dildocam. The tech introduced herself, told me to undress from the waist down (no gown!) and cover myself with a paper sheet. Once my feet were in the stirrups, she told me to "reach down and guide it in." That caught me off guard a bit, until I remembered one of my friends (as an OB patient) had been given the option of having the wand inserted or inserting it herself. She said she preferred to do it herself in terms of comfort. So I tried to act nonchalant and reached for the dildocam. Eww. Anyway, the exam was brief. She measured my uterus and ovaries, and pointed out the follicles that were already visible for the upcoming IUI cycle.
After that, I got dressed and headed over to the phlebotomy waiting area. After a few minutes, my name was called and they took me into the lab. Since we were opting to do the genetic screening, there were some additional consent forms/signatures required. The phlebotomist explained that by signing, I was agreeing to foot the bill for the screening in the event that it wasn't covered under our insurance plan. It wasn't outrageous ($300) so I signed away and watched as she pulled tubes in preparation for my blood draw. Now, I am a trained phlebotomist myself, although I don't do it on a regular basis anymore. But I know my veins and I know what is (or isn't) good technique, so I like to watch. The tech wasn't overly impressed with my veins. I have one (very small) vein in my right arm. One. My left arm has none. Not even my phlebotomy instructor was willing to attempt a draw from that side. Other than that, I have my hands, which are decent. But it was a lot of tubes, and hand veins are sometimes weak and easily collapsible, so she wanted to try for the one in my arm. She took her time finding it, but got it on the first stick. I watched as the blood flowed into the tubes, feeling excited and anticipatory.
Afterwards, she handed me my papers and sent me on my way to check-out. It wasn't until I was in the parking garage getting ready to leave that I remembered I had meant to ask about the Clomid. But since they were going to call later that afternoon with my lab results, I figured I would just give them my pharmacy info then and all would be fine.
Remember the roller coaster? It came back. Cookie called that afternoon, as promised, and said that everything came back great. My ultrasound looked good and my blood tests were all in line. And then she dropped a bomb. She said that since we had consented to genetic screening, we would need to wait until those results came back before starting any treatment. Since those tests are performed by an outside lab, the turnaround time is usually a couple of weeks. She said to call back in a month at the start of my next cycle and then we would start the IUI cycle.
I was speechless, I literally didn't know what to say and probably stammered incoherently for a bit before finally voicing my objection. That wasn't what we were told. We were told we'd be doing the IUI this cycle. Cookie explained that the clinic had passed a new policy that had gone into effect that Monday, even though it wasn't fully implemented yet, which mandated that results of genetic testing (if performed) had to be available prior to the start of a treatment cycle. I tried to keep my voice level and my tone steady as I stated that while I understood this was a new change, I had not been informed of that at the time of my blood draw that morning. I emphasized that if I had known about the new policy, it would likely have affected my decision to do the genetic screening. It wasn't something that either Paul or I had felt strongly about doing, and our interest in the results was purely informational.
Cookie apologized that I hadn't been notified of the policy that morning, but seemed hesitant as she explained that for some couples, results of genetic testing, particularly if they are not favorable, can have a huge impact on treatment decisions and outcomes. I assured her, politely but firmly, that Paul and I had no intention of basing our treatment decisions on the results of these tests. I also stressed that we had already planned our entire month's schedule around the upcoming IUI cycle and were anxious to move things along sooner rather than later. Finally, Cookie relented and said that if we wanted to sign a waiver, stating that we were waiving our right to receive test results prior to treatment, we could go ahead and start the IUI cycle. I gave Cookie my pharmacy info to call in the Clomid and she transferred me to the schedulers to arrange my SSH appointment, which would need to be done prior to the actual IUI.
It wasn't until after hanging up that I realized I was shaking. It wasn't out of anger, although I'd certainly been upset and frustrated during the call. It was more like the shakiness you feel after an adrenaline rush - like when you've narrowly avoided a car collision and you realize your muscles have tensed up in anticipation and your heart is racing and you can literally feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. The old fight or flight response. That's what IF feels like. That's the roller coaster effect. One minute, you're in a positive glass-half-full mood, ready to launch into action. The next, you've come to a screeching halt, maybe even started to plummet downward.
Thankfully, this time, I was able to stand and fight. And what could have been a major letdown ended up being just another bump in our IF road.....
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