I should be running...

...but I'm being super lazy and blogging right now.

NaBloPoMo is half over today (thank G-d!) and ironically enough, I pretty much had nothing to write about today. This has been the challenge of NaBloPoMo - finding something to write about every single day of this month. To be fair, I'm cheating slightly. For example, my post Saturday about the IF-Free Zone and Sunday's Infertility Blogger APB posts? Both were written last week and scheduled to post this weekend, because I didn't feel like writing this weekend. I've scheduled out my topics for most of the month, but I have a few days here and there- like today- where I didn't have a topic lined up. I wanted to build in room for non-premeditated things of interest in my life, but today was just so blah.

Like I mentioned, I should be running. Today starts week 2 of c25k, and according to Larry, week 2 day 1 is hella hard. I have to go back to work (30 minutes away) at 10pm, so I've got about another 2 hours before I miss my window to run at all today.

I totally don't want to run. But I HAVE to run or this program will fall apart. It's tricky because I've yet to run solo, and Larry is out of town this week starting tomorrow. We ran separately today because of our crazy evening schedules. We'll have to run separately again Wednesday, but presumably we can run together after work on Friday.

Hmmm... I wonder how many sentences I can type before I run out of time to run today?

. . .

In other news, I had a doctor's appointment with my new primary care physician. Since I haven't seen Dr. Skinny Bitch in forever, and Dr. G is pretty much useless, it was time to get a new PCP. I checked out the Thyroid Top Docs list and lo and behold, there's a great doctor who fits into my commute between work and home. We were a bit rushed; after going through my medical history he ordered a barrage of blood tests, and I needed to get to the lab before they closed at 5pm. Basically, he reiterated that my main issues seem to be thyroid, POF/PCOS (I was surprised he didn't completely rule out PCOS from my potential list of current issues), and allergies.

Looks like it's time for another Dr. codename! I'll call him Dr. Armour, since he's the first doctor to suggest throwing a little T3 into my thyroid med mix. My numbers look great but I still feel like poo (exhaustion, brain fog, excessive hair shedding), and given my high anti-thyroid antibody counts, he thinks I'm a good candidate for a combo of T4 (Levoxyl) and T3 (Armour Thyroid).

It took 30 minutes in the lab (well past when they closed), 3 stick sites (thank you, inept phlebotomist who clearly was more concerned about going home on time than getting it right the first try), and 7 tubes of blood to finally get everything Dr. Armour ordered. Standard stuff: comprehensive metabolic panel, thyroid workup, cholesterol check. But he also added in a test for genetic thrombophilia (clotting disorder) and a test for Celiac's Disease.

Apparently, Celiac's Disease is pretty common among both the hypothyroid and POF crowds. Also- random fact- it affects the Irish the most. Dr. Armour was surprised when I told him that I'm half-Irish. "With a name like Keiko," he said, "it's a pretty safe bet that's why you've never been tested, because otherwise, you fit all of the criteria."

If I do have Celiac's, I have no idea what this means. I could kill more time not running by asking Dr. Google what she knows about Celiac's, but my guilt is eating away at me. I really need to run.

So, we'll see what the results come back with. $10 says I have Celiac's. Anyone else willing to take that bet? Also, anyone out there have Celiac's and want to share their experience in the comments?

Posts of substance this week to follow. Promise :)

A second opinion on everything, really.

Doc Awesome: Artist's rendition.

My second opinion appointment went really well yesterday. The staff at the clinic were very professional and rather friendly. I tweeted from the office that the patients sitting in the waiting room, however, looked a bit somber, but I can't blame them. It just made the contrast between the friendliness of the staff that much more apparent.

Dr. "I have an incredibly awesome/sexy South African accent" who I suppose I should just shorten to Doc Awesome was equally as warm and friendly. (I would've called him Dr. Sexy, but that's reserved for our vet: a post for another day.) I came armed with my list of a dozen questions and a folder full of test results. What astounded me was that I didn't have to sit and give my schpiel (menarch at 9, PCOS Dx at 18, ovary out the same year, thyroid problems at 20, POF/Hashi's at 26 blah blah blah)... he had actually read my file prior to my appointment and was able to give me my own summary back to me.

I find this astounding because with Dr. G, I could count on at least 20 minutes of repeat dialogue at every appointment, including having to go through my medical history at nearly every other appointment. Egads, a doctor that does his homework?? What is the world coming to?

Doc Awesome let me ask my myriad questions and many of the answers were ones that I had expected. Based on my various hormonal tests throughout the last year, it's POF. And like any POF-er, it's entirely possible to experience spontaneous ovarian function and even become pregnant, but that occurs in about 1% or less of the POF population. Bummer.

That being said, Doc Awesome said I'm a fantastic candidate for donor egg, and that POF-er's in general usually are great candidates for DE/IVF. Doc Awesome also oversees all of the donor cycles at this clinic, so I'm in capable hands. They run pretty aggressive treatments for donors and say they get as many as 20 eggs in one shot. Their success rates are also well into the 50-60% range with DE. I asked if my Hashi's could play in a role in the success of DE/IVF and he said that so long as it's maintained, it's a non-issue.

As far at the actual cycle itself, once we pick a donor and she is screened (and the screening process at this clinic is intimidating bordering on absurd- his words, not mine), I'd stop taking my birth control pills and switch to estrogen only. Meanwhile, she'd go on a stim protocol and trigger. The day of retrieval, Larry obviously has to do his thing in a cup, I'll add progesterone gel (sounds goo-tastic!), and the eggs are retrieved from the donor. Depending on how Larry's army looks, we'll either let them do the rumba in the petri dish or directly inject his sperm into the egg via ICSI. About 4 days later, I would come in for a 10 minute procedure to insert either 1 or 2 embryos into my lady parts... and then, voila, the 2ww. Should I choose, I can also add an hour of acupuncture/pressure before and about 45 minutes of the same after the transfer. All told, apart from the actual transfer and using donor gametes, it's par-for-par hormonally and experientially as any other woman experiencing pregnancy.

I mean, I wouldn't even get the giganto box o' needles from the fertility pharmacy. I could avoid needles.

This is huge for me folks. Huge.

All told, we're looking at about $15-17K when you factor in donor agency fees, donor fees, legal feels, and donor screening. (It seems silly that insurance wouldn't cover donor screening, since they are medical procedures, but apparently it's the one medical part of the process they don't cover, which can run anywhere from $2-4K.)

I'm not going to lie: this is WAY cheaper and potentially faster than adoption. And given my age, my other relative health, there's a good chance of this working on the first shot. I know DE/IVF is no guarantee, but even Larry brought up the point: if it didn't work, we would potentially still have other embryos on ice to work with again, given the aggressive retrieval protocol they run on donors.

And you know what? I do want to experience pregnancy and birth. I have resolved that I'll still be just as much of a woman and mother if I don't, but the pregnancy experience is still important to me after all. There's also a good bit of halachic vaguery about the Jewish status of a child born via donor egg, so believe it or not, according to Jewish law, donor egg is easier to navigate that adoption. I wouldn't necessarily need a Jewish donor if pursuing DE/IVF, but absolutely would need a Jewish birthmother if pursuing adoption, domestic or international.

After talking the appointment through with Larry yesterday, I think we're changing our minds... again. Once we save up the money, we're going to go for DE/IVF. I don't think adoption is off the table for us completely, but just not as our first shot.


In sum: Doc Awesome is pretty awesome. (He even complimented me for coming in armed with all of my info noting that I was "a lot more researched than the average patient, which is a great thing.") And when we're ready to go for donor egg... we'll be going with him. I feel really confident in his ability and he has a wonderful candor and sense of professionalism.

So yeah, there you have it. Donor egg is back on the table... and I'm really excited about it. The timeline all depends on how quickly we can hide away the cash, but I think we could probably do this by the end of next year.

I suppose I should start working on a new blog header image this weekend!

Infertility's ethical dilemma.

Tomorrow I have my second opinion appointment. I've filled out all of my pre-appointment paperwork. Larry has filled out all of his pre-appointment paperwork. I have a 1-inch thick file of all of my bloodwork results in the last year and a half, and two handy Excel spreadsheets summarizing my thryoid workups and female hormonal workups. I am ready to go. And well... I'm a little nervous.

Anytime I open myself up to more diagnostics, more testing, I always worry that I'm opening myeslf up for something worse. What if it was never POF all along and instead it was... pancakes? Or dumptrucks? Or... *gasp* Sunday coupons?! (I'm replacing all of the other horrible things a gal could be diagnosed with less severe things as I'm superstitious to ever name actual horrible conditions, like, if I write it here, I'm jinxing myself).

I'm 99% sure I'm going to receive the same diagnosis of POF; my FSH hasn't really dipped below 50 and was at its highest, around 67 I think. I'm not so much looking for a second opinion on the diagnosis as I'm looking for a) a more competent doctor, because as I talked to many folks at the conference this weekend, Dr. G is bad news and b) the slim chance that maybe, just maybe, we could build our family without the use of donor eggs or heading straight to adoption.

Which lead's me to infertility's ethical dilemma... what if I pass on my infertility to my children?

Here's the thing: if I were to do IVF with my own eggs (which, as far as I know based on one opinion, this isn't possible), it would probably save us anywhere from $5-$7K out of pocket (potentially more with agency fees on top of that). I'm lucky because my insurance would cover all my medical costs as well as the donor's medical costs, but I'd still have to pay for all the donor compensation for her time and travel, essentially, the donor fees. Also, insurance (of course) will not pay for legal fees as donor egg use requires the use of a laywer to negotiate the legality of the future child, as in, who's child is this legally. So if I were to use my own eggs, I wouldn't have to worry about paying for anything out of pocket other than office visit and prescription co-pays.

Not only would using my own eggs be cheaper, but I'd get to live that dream of making a baby that's party me, part my husband. But if I do use my own eggs, I could very well pass down my infertility to my potential children.

Would my future child resent me for it later if and when they try to conceive and they ran into issues? I realize that I don't resent my parents for giving me a predisposition for diabetes and heart disease, but if I knew that my parents had a choice in the matter... well, I don't know then. I mean, I'd rather be the person that I am, future potential medical issues or not, rather than not existing at all (as who I am genetically) because my parents used donor gametes. Maybe I'd be able to have a closer relationship with my child, instead of them pushing me away, because Mom and Dad would understand, and we'd be able to share resources with them.

And it's all a gamble anyway... what if we used donor gametes and our future child still had infertility issues later in life? What then?

What if, what if, what if... it's so easy to start formulating endless possibilities and scenarios, like a flowchart of doom branching menacingly into the future. But this is a valid question with which I really struggle: what if I gave this G-d awful, terrible, heartbreaking, tragic disease to my own child?

All just for the sake of being able to say that this child is half-Keiko and half-Larry?

Is it worth it?

. . .

I know there's no answer to that question, and I don't know if any of us could answer that question. But I have to be honest: it doesn't feel rhetorical.

And it doesn't feel ethical. But I suppose, barring genetic testing and selective reduction, there's not a whole lot I can do. And even those options feel icky and just not the best decisions either.

This is infertility's evil Catch-22.

. . .

And this is all on the assumption that I could ever conceive a child with my own eggs. The odds are stacked against me, no matter what doctor I see. So it's all just a waiting game: arming myself with a long list of questions for the doctor tomorrow, and hoping to finally get some encouraging news for once in this journey.

NaBloPoMo: And so it begins.

30 posts. 30 days. It's NaBloPoMo time, people: National Blog Posting Month.

I think it's time to build off of my 7 posts in 7 days bit and move to something more advanced. I know I wrote recently that I should man up and do NaNoWriMo (also starting today) but I just don't have the energy. But blogging? Blogging for 30 days? I can do that. This is more attainable. I have to work my way up to NaNoWriMo.

If you don't feel like joining the official NaBloPoMo ranks, Suzy over at Not a Fertile Myrtle has a great blogroll of other NaBloPoMo participating IF bloggers up for the challenge. Check it out - let's keep each other motivated! More updates/news and a question after the cut.

Other updates in my life...

Tonight I'm being interviewed by Isadora Leidenfrost for her forthcoming film, Things We Don't Talk About. From her film website:

Things We Don’t Talk About is a groundbreaking documentary film about women’s healing narratives from the red rent that serves to empower women and girls. The Red Tent is a red textile space that is changing the way that women think about their bodies.

Tomorrow night, Isadora will be filming the Salem Red Tent Temple. I'm so excited! The Red Tent Temple has been such a joy in my life. When I stopped having periods, I missed my Woman's Blood Rhythm. Now that I meet near each new moon with other women in all stages of life and Blood Rhythm, it has brought that sense of monthly cycle back. I can't wait to talk and explore more about this with Isadora tonight.

Just had another thyroid panel done. I've had brain fog like whoa and my energy is pretty much non-existent. I'm starting to feel like I did in June/July of 2009, when my TSH was at its highest and thus my thyroid function at its lowest. Well, don't know what's going on then b/c my numbers came back normal: TSH is 1.027. I need to find a good endocrinologist up in the North Shore area. Anyone have any recommendations for a good North Shore, MA area endo?

And finally, it's just 5 days until the RESOLVE of New England Annual Conference! You can still register in advance. Come check out dozens of vendors, doctors, and other patients, and meet the Infertility Blogging Goddess, Melissa Ford, author of Stirrup Queens! Also, we have some pretty awesome raffles. I can't wait to meet folks there :)

Oh, and one other thing: my Fertile Fall Fundraiser is underway, so if you have a few dollars to spare, I'd love it if you could help out this special cause: $2000 for RESOLVE of New England by Christmas. We can totally make that goal with your help!

Happy blogging all.

1 post down. 29 to go.

PS. Get off your butts and VOTE tomorrow! (I don't care for whom you vote, just vote dagnabit!)

I'll have seconds, please.

Photo by Jason Rogers via Flickr.

I did it.

I just emailed one of the area clinics for a second opinion consultation from the doctor recommended to me by Dr. Ali Domar at Night of Hope.

No appointment set up yet, but I did it. I took that first step. This first step I had been dreading, but a step that is needed. The step that I sobbed about to Larry last night.

"What if they find something else? What if there's something REALLY wrong, even worse than POF? It would be just my luck!" (It's true - I've never had it easy when it comes to diagnostics; I always tend to fall on the edges of the normal spectrum when it comes to anything medically-related to my health.)

I worry that every time I open myself up to these kind of tests and consults, I run the risk of getting yet another devastating diagnosis.

Larry assures me they aren't going to find anything.

"I know IVF is cheaper than adoption but I don't know if I'm strong enough to do IVF. Everyone wants me to do IVF."

Larry said it simply: "If you don't want to do it, we don't have to do it. We'll do what's right for us, not what anyone else thinks or wants."

I'm getting this second opinion despite how terrifying this is to me. And I'm getting it because I was inspired by The Infertility Therapist, ironically enough from a post about knowing when to stop fertility treatment:

"...We should try whenever possible to anticipate what our future selves will think about our decisions, in order to minimize future regrets."

I don't want to regret having never gotten that second opinion, having never moved beyond Dr. G (of whom I've had doubts for some time now anyway), having never given myself the chance.

I'm not saying I'm ready for IVF. But I'm ready to at least make sure that the options that were given to me a year ago still hold true. I'm ready to make sure we're making the most informed choice we can.

The things in my head.

Dr. Google Images' brain.

As October suddenly whisked in with rains and cold, dreary weather, I've been feeling that autumn slump. I have mild to moderate seasonal affective disorder (ironically called SAD) and this is the lastest it's ever kicked into gear. It always seems to happen right after the High Holidays, but I suppose it would make sense for this year that it feels later- Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur were ridiculously early this year. So, I suppose I'm right on target. Basically, once Columbus Day rolls around, I always seem to find myself in a bit of a funk.

I'm not depressed, just gloomy and exhausted all the time. I've been staying until 8 or 9pm at work the last week. The return of some sun has been a great relief. I've started (finally) taking vitamin D supplements, something my doc has been wanting me to do for, oh, I dunno, a year? Oops. Sorry doc. But you kind of suck anyway and I'm getting a new one soon. Oy, was that snarky? There's that gloominess creeping back in again I suppose.

That's the figurative reference to my post title. The literal one refers to my physical grey matter, and I'm finally explaining that cryptic bit I threw in my last post about my trip to the emergency room last Monday night. So this gets into some delicate and mildly embarassing territory, but, this is the IF community, right? What's a little more oversharing? So here goes.

Three weeks ago, I had a severe migraine headache, unlike one I've ever had in the 15 years I've been having migraine headaches. I have pretty distinct triggers: aged cheeses, lack of sleep, caffeine withdrawl, hormonal imbalances, and occasionally processed/cured meats. I can tell in a matter of minutes whether it's going to be worth just a couple of Aleve or perhaps prescription migraine meds (that I save only for the really bad ones b/c I only get 12 pills at a time). I get auras, light and sound sensitivity, and rarely, nausea.

But this migraine, which triggered into a full-blown, "no time to even get to the medicine cabinet, I may just throw up right now turn off the lights omg I'm pretty sure my head is literally exploding" migraine in a matter of a minute. The trigger?

*coughs* Sex.

And then the migraine returned every other time we did it since that first migraine. It shortened in duration and intensity with each iteration, but I'll tell you what: it was quite the mood killer. Why would we continue to have sex if it was still giving me migraines? Well, we did it in the name of science. I'd had enough so I went to a doc (one in our practice, not my ever incompetent PCP) and well, she laughed. She had never heard of it before, but thanks to Dr. Google, I know that coital cephalalgia is fairly common, if underreported. She referred me to a neurologist and I had my appointment with Dr. OoohNooo* last Monday.

*I call him Dr. OoohNooo because he looks exactly like Will Forte and all I could think of was that SNL skit where he plays Andy, the Oh No Guy. Thankfully, that is not what he replied when I sat down and said, "I'm getting migraines from sex."

We went through my history as a migraineur (lol, I sound like a connisseur of migraines). Dr. OoohNooo seemed rather unphased by what I said, noting that orgasmic migraines are fairly common in his line of work and that our focus should be on diagnosing the cause and ruling out some scarier stuff, like a broken blood vessel in my skull (which could lead to a stroke) or worse, an aneurysm. I had the choice between a CT scan with radioactive injected dye or an MRI. I opted for the MRI and the earliest I could be scanned was last Thursday. He said I should take a baby aspirin daily until then, in case it was a broken blood vessel. Everything seemed to be fine. We chuckled about the silliness of it all... hahaha, migraines from sex, hahaha.

Yeah... and then things got scary.

On the (hour-long) way home from my appointment, my neuro calls me back. After doing some thinking and going back over my history, especially as it relates to having had PCOS at one point and dealing with hormonal issues for the last year, as well as the severity of the initial migraine...

"I'd like you to go to your local ER and get the CT scan done. I'm concerned you may have suffered an aneurysm."

Yeah, that's great news to hear when you're driving at 70 mph on the highway.

So after coming home and freaking the fuck out and trying to stomach some dinner (b/c we knew the ER takes FOREVER), we drove to the hospital not even 5 minutes from our house. I prayed a lot. I called my mom. Larry called his parents. I sent out a rather uncharacterist text to a group of close friends asking them to think good thoughts. And we waited and waited and waited to be seen.

In the room next to us, once I got a bed, I could hear a woman crying as she explained her issue to the nurse: "I'm six weeks pregnant and I'm bleeding heavily. I think I'm having a miscarriage."

It was surreal.

Finally the IV tech came in to put in my IV line, into the arm of She of Spider-thin, Spongey, Collapsing Veins. Yeah, it sucked. For the CT scan, they have to inject iodine dye into my veins at a very high speed. the nurse came in and did the "BTW, this doesn't usually happen, but we're legally required to tell you that this could kill you instantly on the table" schpiel. AWESOME.

Into the CT room I go. They do some non-dye control scans and then it's time for my high speed injection. Yeah, it hurt. And my vein had had enough, so once the dye was injected, it collapsed when there was a saline flush at the end of the injection... so all of that saline went into the soft tissue of my arm... which proceeded to swell like something out of the damn Mütter Museum. Seriously? I looked like I had a softball stuffed under the skin around my elbow. Gross.

We wait for an hour while they put heat on my arm and... nothing. The results came back perfectly normal. All that worry and waiting around for 5 hours for nothing. They sent me home.

Dr. OoohNooo still wanted me to have the MRI done. I get it done and... nothing. Results are normal as well. I'm thrilled I don't have any kind of serious head trauma and I'm very thankful that my neuro wanted to be so thorough, but it's annoying to know that every time I have sex, I get a migraine. So finally, I'd had enough. We had a moratorium on all things arousal since I went to the doctor two weeks ago and I was just entirely too pent up. We threw caution to the wind and [insert sex euphemism here].

And... nothing (well, not nothing... it was great!). No migraine this time. Hallelujah!

...and WTF?

Apparently this is how coital cephalalgia works. It starts randomly for no reason and will often resolve on its own mysteriously. Weird. So I've got a follow up in two weeks where I can say to my neuro that this was all an exercise in futility apparently. Oh human body, your wonders never cease to amaze.

So there's my super TMI story and why I've been missing in action the last two weeks or so. What's new with y'all? I need to play catch up on the blogosphere like whoa.

The Mammogram Primer

Had my mammogram yesterday. When my doc first mentioned last Monday I should get a baseline reading, I kind of freaked out a little bit. No history of breast cancer in my family, but the possibilities of what it could detect are still unsettling, at the very least. I had a pretty chill morning going to NIA dance class (more on that later) and catching up on Weeds and eating leftover Indian food for lunch. By the time I got to the hospital, I decided it wasn't worth getting myself worried sick over a simple scan, so I just let it go with the flow. Since I know many of my readers will eventually have to have a mammogram done at some point (hopefully never at the age of 28), I thought I'd make a little primer out of this. Other general life updates after the jump as well.

Mammogram Tip #1: Take a couple of ibuprofen before your appointment. I'll get to the pain part in a bit, but as a first step: pop a couple of Advil on your drive over to your imaging center. Trust me.

Mammogram Tip #2: Know your family history of breast cancer. They'll ask you both in-person and on your intake form. Other things of which you want to make sure you know the details: any hormonal medication you've taken, including birth control pills, a patch, progesterone supplements, or any kind of fertility drugs (Clomid, Gonal-F, etc.). If you've had a complicated fertility treatment history, it's not a bad idea to just have it all written or printed out with the dates of your treatment and what you took for how long. They also asked me lots of questions since I had no family history of breast cancer and was coming in here at only 28 years old. I had to do the whole "POF/POI - doc wants a baseline" schpiel.

Mammogram Tip #3: Seriously? Don't bother wearing a bra. It's gotta come off anyway, so use the appointment as a chance to swing free for a day (or in my book, no bras on the weekend). Also, wear a comfortable shirt. It'll come off too, but at least when you're done, you'll be wearing something comfortable. I cheated and wore a bathing suit underneath (went to the beach afterward); taking everything off from the waist up was a breeze :) The robe was cute too: I had my choice of pink or white kimono style, opening in the front. Of course I took the pink one!

Mammogram Tip #4: Strike up a conversation with your technician. Mine was kind enough to start it for me- I'm weird with small talk with strangers. She was very curious as to how I was diagnosed with POF and what it meant. We ended up spending almost the whole scan session talking about how adoption works in Massachusetts. And instead of asking me before my scan if there was any chance I was pregnant, she asked if I ever could get pregnant. I wasn't offended either- it was all a very nice distraction to the otherwise very comfortable procedure.

Mammogram Tip #5: Yes, it's going to hurt, but it doesn't last. The mammogram itself is VERY simple. They take four pictures to start, frontal and side views of each breast. Frontal views are the way you're probably imagining mammograms are done: lay your breast on the scan plate, and a top plate lowers down on top of it. As a mammogram is trying to make a 2D image out of a 3D object (your boob), it has to compress quite tight on top. It's definitely painful, but I know it varies based on breast tenderness and size. The scan for each picture only takes about 15 seconds; I found it helped that I inhaled as the plate compresses and exhaled on release. The side view is a bit more painful in that they rotate the bottom plate to about 45° and it compresses from the side. For some reason, on both scans, this one stung a lot more. I compare the pain to anytime you've ever walked into a corner or a door and hit it with your boob. My left breast, for whatever reason, hurt a lot more than my right one. They also have to pull all the breast tissue onto the plate, so that means potentially pulling some armpit fat up there. I know- uncomfortable, but it doesn't last. However, my boobs were definitely a little sore for about a half hour afterward, so I wish I had thought to take an ibuprofen as mentioned in Tip #1 before I left. The soreness was gone within an hour, easily.

Mammogram Tip #6: Don't be alarmed if they call you back for more scans, especially if it's your first mammogram. Since they've never had pictures of your breasts before, they may need more detailed pictures taken. This doesn't instantly mean they've found something. As I mentioned, they're making 2D pictures out of a 3D object, so depending on the compression, some areas of breast tissue may look denser than others just depending on how the breast spread out. My technician explained that they may use weights or other means of compression to help spread out any dense areas that come up. However, for most standard mammograms, such as your annual scan starting at age 40, they'll just be taking those 4 pictures.

Mammogram Tip #7: Do something nice for yourself afterward! My mom makes a "date" out of it with her friend. They both go at the same time and then usually go out to lunch together. It turns something mildly scary into something enjoyable. I ended up going to the beach. Once the scan is done, there's really nothing to do about it, so you might as well spend the time doing something nice for yourself rather than worrying about it.

Mammogram Summary: A few minutes of pain for an important women's health diagnostic, and a great excuse to make a pampered day out of it for yourself afterward.

. . .

Before my mammogram, I went to my NIA dance class. NIA requires a lot of letting go of your pre-conceived notions about aerobics and also your limits of bodily expression. I certainly got a workout (my legs are super sore this morning). But my back doesn't hurt at all. If anything, I have a greater awareness about my body movement and what feels comfortable. You don't have to know dance or martial arts or yoga to appreciate this: there is no "right" way to do NIA. You just do what feels good for your body within a set of given movements. The rest is up to you. I loved it; I wish my next two Saturdays weren't busy so I could go back again. I need to find more NIA classes, because it's a really invigorating, celebratory, expressive workout. Oh, and it won't kill my knees or my back.

Afterward, I hit the beach. Plum Island in Newburyport, MA, is seriously the hidden gem of beaches in the state. Larry is out of town this weekend at a bachelor party on Nantucket, so I thought I'd hit the beach as well. Growing up in NJ, I got spoiled by Atlantic City and Ocean City and Wildwood... NJ beaches are pretty nice and it's amazing how much warmer the water is just 5 hours south of here. Plum Island is the closest thing to a Jersey Shore experience I've had in the 3 years since moving up here. The only catch? The water is FREEZING- like, "I meant to get a tan but I got hypothermia instead" cold.

I fully intended on reading and writing while I sat on the beach: oh no. I passed the eff out. Like, I'm pretty sure I was snoring at one point PTFO'd. It was wonderful. I went for a dip in the ocean to cool off a couple of times, and then realized I was starving. I hit up downtown Newburyport and the River Merrimac Bar & Grille for dinner. Newburyport is so cute and quaint! Lots of Georgian brick-edifice buildings with neat little shops. Parking is a bit of a hassle, but walking around in the nice warm June evening air was just lovely. Dinner was exquisite: a glass of riesling (14 Hands- best riesling I've had), a beet and arugula salad with toasted sunflower seeds and applewood smoked bacon pieces with a red wine vinaigrette and for my entree: wild mushroom risotto, with oyster, portobello, and shittake mushrooms lightly sautéed with garlic, shallot and Madeira wine, served over braised greens & creamy risotto, finished with goat cheese & truffle oil. It was pretty friggin' fantastic. Topped the night off with fresh strawberry ice cream from Gram's Ice Cream and then drove home, sunkissed, tired, and super-relaxed.

With the craziness of the past few weeks, I haven't felt this relaxed in ages. Today: Strawberry Festival, one more home tour of our favorite spot, and a BBQ with friends afterward. It's been a great weekend.

Top photo by: Manuel Cacciatori via Flickr. Bottom photo by: Keiko Zoll ©2010.

June is bustin' out all over.

First: good thyroid numbers. Then: promotion. Third: House-hunting. And finally... a pre-approved mortgage, after some dicey moments on Thursday. What could possibly be left?

...We found a house. We have totally fallen in love with it. Fingers crossed, we have one more home tour on Sunday, but come Monday morning, we're hoping to put in an offer. I've been holding onto this info since Wednesday, but I didn't want to jinx it until I knew we were pre-approved for the mortgage.



This is certainly shaping up to be one helluva summer fast.

Tomorrow morning I have dance class. Given the recent state of my back, I'm glad I signed up for a no-impact style, called NIA. Has anyone tried it? I'm intrigued, so I'm dropping in for a class at the Somerville Armory tomorrow. We'll see how it goes. NIA originally stood for No-Impact Aerobics, but is now called Neuromuscular Integrative Action. Very very hippie in its approach, but I'm kind of interested by the celebratory tone of it. This video provides a great overview of NIA. Neat looking, right? I'll certainly post how it went here.

Tomorrow afternoon? Not so fun: mammogram at 2pm. I will also post about that.

Larry's away for the weekend, back Sunday night, and then out of town until Thursday. Part of me is kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop... it's been quite a while since we've had good fortune. For now, I'm spending this time to relax while I can, because this summer is going to gear up fast.

Shabbat shalom folks.

Thyroid Update: The Butterfly in My Neck

Why the butterfly in my neck? The thyroid gland kind of looks like a little butterfly as it sits on your larynx. The butterfly is also the symbol of thyroid cancer survivors as well (no, I don't have cancer, but I like the transformational inspiration associated with the butterfly).

As you know, in addition to POI, I have Hashimoto's thyroiditis. Monday I had yet another followup appointment with my doctor. After my latest round of bloodwork, and for the first time in just over a year (by 2 weeks!) my TSH values would appear to be normalized and in optimal range. Triumph! I've made some definite progress since my last thyroid checkup in April. My numbers have come back the best ever, and not just my thyroid results.

My TSH is currently at 1.0. Free T3 is chillin' at 2.95, and free T4 is looking good at 1.17. These are all rather good numbers. The 137mcg of Levoxyl seems to be doing the trick, even while I'm on the pill. I thought for sure we'd have to double the dosage (the steroidal estrogen in the pill binds to the thyroid hormone in my medicine, zeroing out the actual amount of thyroid hormone I receive) but apparently the jump from 125mcg to 137mcg was enough to do the job. Symptomatically, I feel the best I have in a year. The brain fog is basically gone and I'm not walking around like a zombie. I still get fatigue, but I imagine it's likelier the result of diet, going to bed at 1am every night, and stress. My doc mentioned something about iron deficiency, so he's having my iron levels tested.

The numbers that surprised me the most were my lipid panel. My total cholesterol went down from 222 in January to 194 in June! No medication, no exercise... all just changes to my diet. (Speaking of- given the recent loss of my grandmother, we might have fallen off the good eating wagon a little hard.) My LDL and HDL numbers look good too; they've also decreased since January. I fully credit Dr. Organic with this progress. My triglycerides were high at 196; more indicative of insulin resistance than anything else. The doc recommends sticking with lifestyle change at this point, because it's clearly working, and triglycerides can be managed by lifestyle.

The only bad numbers I had were my vitamin D levels. I'm a bit low. Not in the "gonna get rickets" range, but I seriously need to start taking the supplements that my doc prescribed and I never got filled... oops.

These are the first positive set of numbers I've had all year, and I've got symptoms (or lack thereof) to back them up, which is vital to proper thyroid management. I just need to keep an eye out for my adrenal function. Basically, Hashi's is an autoimmune thyroid disease where my body just kind of eats my thyroid until it stops working. As my anti-thyroid antibodies are so high (over 1000), my POI is most likely caused by autoimmune disfunction as well. It is very possible that I could develop polyglandular autoimmune disorder where the next thing my body goes after is the adrenal gland. That would not be good at all, so I need to be on the lookout. The doc ordered that blood test as well.

Speaking of blood tests... It took one hour, three phlebotomists, and six- yes six attempts to draw just one vial of blood from me. I have awful, awful veins, and the two I can count on refused to cooperate Monday. I tried hydrating, hot compresses, pumping my fist, letting my arm hang down - you name it, I did it. I may look a wee bit like a junkie with bruises all over the insides of both arms and the back of my right hand.

Other testing: I'm getting a mammogram on Saturday. Not too thrilled about that; less upset about the discomfort and more about the fact that I'm 28 and now have to start regular mammograms. My doc wants this as a baseline but recommends that I have them done annually since I'm now on HRT. The test itself doesn't unnerve me, but the implications for what it could detect does. Cancer does run in my family (mostly bladder, colon, and skin) so yanno, in my paranoid mind I'm quietly freaking out. Oh, and I got my annual gyno exam and pap smear. Love the boob massage- I mean breast exam, hate the "wham bam thank you ma'am" tone of the pelvic exam.

Assuming my iron levels and anti-adrenal antibody tests come back normal, I don't need to see the good doctor for six months. It feels a little weird, I won't lie; I've been at his office every six weeks like clockwork and now to have this stretch into potentially the end of the year... Sometimes it's hard to let the idea that I'm actually getting better sink into my brain.

Other medical news: my back is doing leaps and bounds better. My x-rays revealed that yes, I have degenerative arthritis in my lower spine (AWESOME) and that it could flare up again. One (hopefully) last chiropractor appointment on Friday. I can now sleep through the night sans pillows around my legs and back and don't need to ice it as frequently. I've also stopped taking Advil like it's going out of fashion, so that's good. My stomach lining and liver are appreciative, I'm sure.

The healing that I've worked so hard on in my mind is finally starting to make an appearance in my physical body.

The butterfly has transformed.


Photo and original body art by Ally Averell via Flickr in honor of Thyroid Awareness Month 2010.

Call me Little Miss Muffet

...as I apparently need a tuffet *awkward pause* for my bum.

I'd been having consistent back pain for over 10 days now, this hot dull ache right at the base of my spine and, well, *awkward pause* between my bum cheeks. Depending on which side I would sleep on in the night (I'm a side-sleeper), the opposing hip joint would be sore the next morning. Icing it didn't help. Heating pads and hot showers didn't help. Ibuprofen and naproxen sodium would help, but both make me pretty woozy; I have a pretty low tolerance for OTC analgesics. Yesterday, when getting out of bed to turn off my alarm, it felt like someone had both simultaneously stabbed and electrocuted my lower back. I'd had enough. It was time to go to the doctor.

I could only get in my doc's last appointment of the day, so I toughed it out and held off taking any pain meds so I could accurately decribe both the location and quality of the pain. I have a very weird gift for describing pain, something I developed when I was in middle school after numerous repetetive sprained ankles. I told her that there was an everpresent hot dull ache at the base of my spine along the coccyx and radiating outward along the lower end of my hip bones. When moving, sometimes the pain felt like a hot knife being dug into the appropriate muscle. Other times, it felt like a hot electric shock around my entire lower back and down the side of my leg, all the way to my pinky toe.

After a few movement tests, having me sit, stand, and lay on my side, my doc determined that I had mostly likely developed bursitis in my sacrum, aka, joint cushion swelling in my bum. Since everything is inflamed down there, it's pressing on the cluster of sciatic nerve, causing the electric shock sensations. She recommended continuing with the anti-inflammatories (basically 3 advil as soon as I come home from work) and to- get this- sit down on a pillow anytime I had to sit down. Hence: the tuffet reference.

I'm writing this post at work, and let me tell you, it's weird sitting on one of my couch pillows on my office chair. Also, my chair is so crappy that the pillow isn't really helping.

We both think this happened from me sitting on a very hard stool for about 5 hours last Monday, while I was handing out keys to summer housing. I was in a res hall lounge, so the only furniture to sit on were these crappy little stools that offered no support. The long line of students checking in kept me glued to my seat for an hour or two at a time before I could get up. The sustained pressure causes the bursae (little fluid filled cushions between your joints) to become inflammed, thus causing the surrouding tendons to also inflame. Note to self: um, get up off my chair every hour.

So I've got a busted bum and I'm walking around feeling a bit like an old lady. The plan is to see how I'm feeling in a week and go from there. I'm glad this isn't POF-related, as were my intial fears. POF carries a substantially higher risk for osteoperosis and osteopoenia, but my doc isn't worried. My baseline bone density exam last year came back normal.

In other news... some stressful stuff going on that I can't really divulge too much into here yet. But I will say that I am very sad and worried right now. If you can put your good, peaceful thoughts out there in the Universe for me, it would be much appreciated.


(Illustration by Blanche Fisher Wright from The Real Mother Goose, 1916.)

Who wants a ticket on the Thyroid Rollercoaster?

Stand in awe of my Mad MS Paint Skillz. You love 'em. Also, I'm pretty sure that roller coaster car is actually a hotdog with mustard and ketchup.

So I had my regular thyroid monitoring appointment this morning. Dr. G. seems to have forgotten the "I'm not your doctor" fiasco of early March, and we talked things like estrogen, swollen feet, and nausea. With topics like these, oh how I wish this could be an OB visit, but it was just GYN/RE. The swollen feet debacle last week was definitely a result of my body not only getting estrogen for the first time in over a year, but from a sudden drop in thyroid hormone (TH). PS- here's a handy thyroid function primer. The estrogen in the birth control binds to the proteins in my thyroid hormone, so hypothyroidic folks can double their current thyroid medication just to maintain the right level of hormones in their body while on the pill. It's pretty amazing stuff how intricately our bodies are designed to work.

So my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) has nearly tripled since my last visit in January. Higher TSH means my thyroid is functioning less. It's functioning less b/c it's not receiving enough TH, b/c the birth control is eating all of it. We're bumping up my dosage to 137mcg and I'll be back again in 8 weeks. If my feet start swelling again, cut the birth control for a couple of days.

Pretty standard stuff, and since I'm not pursuing ART, I don't need to work with him on protocols and IVF stuff. The rest, from here on out, is just maintanance. He wants to watch my adrenal function (anti-thyroid antibodies with POF almost always spell anti-adrenal antibodies) every other year or so. My hope is that once I find the right balance of TH with my birth control, I'll probably stop seeing Dr. G. I'm actually hoping to transfer my PCP to another doctor in the practice, one that's a) closer to where we live instead of schlepping a half hour to Wellesley for a 20 minute appointment and b) specialized in autoimmune thyroid and adrenal dysfunction.

Hashi's has nearly beaten me, but for the first time in over a year, I feel like I'm winning the war.

Other medical news: Ari and I have begun seeing a nutrionist. And they're not Diet Nazis! In fact, they don't even weigh you. We don't keep food journals. It's down-to-earth food and nutrition counseling with someone who appreciates food like we do. Our second appointment was last night, and while pounds are necessarily falling off of us, we're making real, positive steps to lifestyle changes.

A text I sent to Ari today: I'm fit as a fiddle and feelin' fine. Feelin' fine indeed. Edit: I forgot to add - this isn't sarcastic at all. I'm actually feeling the best I have in almost a year; I'm tired a lot, but I've got my mental acuity back, as the Hashi's had all but robbed me of when I was in a constant haze of brain fog. I'm also knee-deep in working on my entry for #ProjectIF. I'm hoping to post it next week. It's... involved. I'll just leave it at that. Still working on Iron Commenter status... happy commenting this week for ICLW!

You like me... you really like me!

So, I went into a bit of hibernation and, like the awakening season around me, I am slowly coming out of it. I need to catch up on most of blogs I follow, and am slowly marking a return to posting regularly. In coming out of hibernation, I vanity searched this blog title on Google, and boy howdy, people have been talking about it!

I've been awarded another blog award by Sonja over at The Mud and the Lotus. Thanks Sonja! Not like I'm only almost 2 months late realizing I've received this award or anything :) Seriously though, thanks bunches. Award post to follow in a few days.

I've also been named one of the 101 Best ALI (Adoption, Loss, and Infertility) Blogs over at Grown in My Heart, an online adoption network. This blog is only one of 10 listed in the specific Infertility category- I've been named alongside some biggies like Melissa over at Stirrup Queens and Pamela at Silent Sorority. I'm totally flattered, honored, and humbled.

I was also inspired to write this post b/c I've been approached by a website called Wellsphere to become one of their Featured Health Bloggers. I've never heard of Wellsphere before, and I'm hesitant to do so without knowing much about them. Anyone out there work with them or signed up to be one of their featured bloggers?

I guess I'm just always surprised when people like a) my writing or b) anything I do (graphic design, vocal music, crafts, photography, etc.). I've never taken compliments well - I put my heart into stuff because I like to do it, not because I'm fishing for praise, so when I do, I always get real bashful, real fast. But I've had a lot of people tell me I apparently write quite well, and I'm left to wonder if I shouldn't be working on something more formal, like a book, or a more dedicated website. I dunno. It's tempting, to say the least.

So I'll wrap this up by saying a huge thank you to my readers and followers - my blog's popularity is only increased by your praise and spreading my name out there. I started this blog because I was simply overwhelmed with emotion: it began as a cathartic- if public yet anonymous- means of coping. I have remained anonymous mostly out of consideration for my husband; he's got a pretty big online presence and I don't want to compete, let alone have this somehow attached to his already established professional presence- and I'm totally okay with that. I continue to exist because I know that there are people who really do care about what I have to say, who are invested in the crazy ups and downs of our journey through infertility. And ultimately, I keep on writing because I hope I can help someone else out there, even just one person- to put the information out there that I wished was there when I entered the Land of IF just a year ago tomorrow.

Thanks readers, for giving me strength, hope, and the courage to keep on writing about what's important.

Stroking ego in the name of medical care.

I call bullshit.

So I got a second opinion about my thyroid & POF last month, and it's basically the same. Next steps: birth control for hormone replacement therapy, up the thyroid meds. Pretty S.O.P. So I send Dr. G an email asking about whether I need to schedule an appt to get a scrip for said BP or can he just call it in. He then sends me a rather terse email back:

If I understand your recent correspondence correctly, you are no longer a patient of mine and will not be coming here for care any longer.  Under those circumstances, it would be inappropriate for me to prescribe a new medication for you  whose effects, positive or ill , i will not be able to monitor.  Your next care giver should do that.  But, in answer to the theoretical question, yes, birth control pills and adjustment of your thyroid rx is a good route to take.

So I've had to stroke his ego a bit and confirm that no, I just went for a second opinion and that yes, I'd still like to be his patient. This is probably the most ingratiating thing I've ever had to do: my doctor thinks I've broken up with him and now I need to come crawling back to him. It's highly likely there was a miscommunication b/t our practice's office staff and Dr. G (it wouldn't be the first time) and that when I had my medical records sent over to second opinion doc, it was construed as seeking another provider... even though I explicitly told them I was seeking a second opinion.

I shouldn't have to grovel to receive appropriate and timely medical care.

Second verse, same as the first.

Got a second opinion re: thyroid and ovarian function yesterday. This doc basically confirmed everything, and actually told me I was right to trust my instincts about not taking the new 137mcg dose of Synthroid back in December. My sticking to the 125 mcg Levoxyl has paid off, as my numbers already show; he said it just didn't make sense that when my TSH was in the basement, Dr. G increased my dose. He should have either lowered it, or left it the same, according to 2nd opinion doc.

He did state that Dr. G's rather periphery test of my adrenal antibodies should be monitored more closely. With widespread autoimmune dysfunction (thyroid and ovarian), there's a good chance I could develop anti-adrenal antibodies. Which, quite plainly, would suck. A lot. So I just need to be mindful of sudden weight loss, loss of  appetite, and dizziness - key indicators. I might never never develop anti-adrenal antibodies. Or it could happen a month from now. Either way, he said I seem pretty in tune with myself, so I just need to remain vigilant. His suggestion was to move to hormone replacement therapy as soon as possible, and to not be surprised if my thyroid med is nearly doubled in dosage. (The estrogen binds to chemicals in the Levoxyl formula, so I need to take a ton more so my body can actually absorb the thyroid hormone.)

So, I suppose the next step is making an appt with Dr. G to get a birth control scrip.

Other news as of late... Ari got a job! This is big, big news, as of yesterday. He's negotiated the final number and everyone is happy with it, so there you go :) After almost a year of unemployment (March 30th would have been a year), Ari's got a job with a company that he thinks he'll be very happy with. I'm really excited for him. He starts on March 15.

IT'S NOT ENDO!

My doc assures me... it's not endo. It's a "transient active cystic structure." My follie threw my whole reproductive system for a surprise, probably created a fluid or blood filled cyst, and then went away, thus explaining all of my symptoms. As my doc put it, it would be near impossible for me to even develop endo at this point in the game.

Thank the fucking stars.

Next up: hormone replacement therapy, or as you many commonly refer to them: birth control pills. That ironically, well, are doing nothing to keep me from getting pregnant.

I'll schedule a follow up at some point with Dr. G for a scrip, but for now, I'm just going to soak up the good news. Other good news: Ari's out of town tonight for a series of interviews at corp HQ. Fingers crossed, I'm hoping he'll have a formal job offer by this time next week.

In diagnostic limbo...

So, my bloodwork from Saturday came back already - everything is pretty much super-low, which is "normal" for someone with POF. Crazy high FSH (62.4), mid-range LH (32.6), estradiol wicked low (20), progesterone (0.1).

But that crazy u/s I had Friday, the one where I suddenly have endo? Yeah, it doesn't appear that Dr. G has gotten the results back yet. And if he has, there's been no email or phone call follow-up. Is the endo a red herring, so to speak? Am I worrying over nothing? Or is this indicative of something much more awful?

The imagination, she is a harsh mistress.

Dear Wanda*

Dear Wanda*,

Thanks for poking that pocket of newly discovered endo today as deeply and as uncomfortably as possible during our 15 minute tryst this morning. (Also- thanks for wearing a condom; we can never take our love for granted in this day and age.) All of the pain that I was having last week that disappeared early this week has now come back with a vengeance, such that Advil barely touches it. Thanks. I feel totally awesome up in my girlie bits right now. We should do this again sometime.

xoxo,
Miriam

*Not her real name.

Cannot catch a break.

First question I ask: "Do I have any endometrial lining?"

Answer: Yes. It's very very thin, but it's there.

Ultrasound tech brings in the doctor. It's Lesley, the lady from last week. SOP: look on the outside, pee, drop trough, insert dildocam, call in the doc. This time, well this time it was different. It was all SOP but then no good pics, then a collective scratching of heads. They bring in Dr. #2. Lots more prodding with the dildocam; it's beginning to get quite uncomfortable. All that pain that had virtually disappeared this week came back (I'm achy as I type this). My ovary is quite small, consistent with POF. But... there's an... anomaly.

Is it an egg? No. Is it a follie? No, but there's a super tiny one still. Is it a cyst? Sort of? Maybe? Place your bets folks, place your bets... What's the weird half-inch thing on my ovary?

If you guessed endo- that's right: endo-fucking-metriosis- come claim your prize.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Dreaming in anger.

Had a dream so real this morning I thought it actually happened, and then was so angry in said dream I woke up with a nasty headache. I wish I had written this down as soon as I got to work as opposed to so late in the day now, as the details are fuzzy. Essentially, it had this very late 70's early 80's feel to it, like the way old photos look. I was at my RE's office, there for a 9am appointment. The receptionist said it was canceled, and no one had called me to let me know it was canceled. I freaked out- like full-on screaming match- and went on and on about how it's already a 45 minute drive to their office and they could have called me before I got there. The receptionist had the nerve to tell me it was a far drive for my doctor too, and that I shouldn't be so selfish. I stormed out of the office. I think the receptionist was played by Elizabeth Mitchell of LOST fame. (My dreams have been peppered by cameo appearences this past week from several LOST stars.)

I have been in a foul, foul funk as of late.

I've got a 2nd u/s Friday morning (7:30am... which means I have to leave by 6:45am to get their by T b/c driving in to the Longwood area is dumb) and more b/w, prolly during lunch tomorrow. The part of me that can't stand being a human lab rat is also the same part of me that doesn't like unanswered questions. If a second u/s and more b/w mean a better picture of the random ovarian pain these past few weeks (which is all but gone now), well, then, let's do it, I suppose.

I look forward to tests and doctor's appts now about as much as I look forward to a bat to the face.

Speaking of b/w, here's the results from last Monday, 2/1:
Estradiol = 24 pg/mL (post-menopausal or mid-follicular peak, depending on context)
Progesterone = 0.3 ng/mL (low, post-meno)
ESR (Erythrocyte Sedimentation Rate - measures inflammation/autoimmune disease things; non-specific test) = 23.0 mm/hr (slightly elevated)
FSH = 61.4 mIU/mL (post-meno ranges)
LH = 42.3 miU/mL (post-meno or mid-cycle peak, depending on context)

Stellar.

Other things... got an iPhone- it rocks, way better than the Windows Mobile POS Samsung Blackjack I was using before; leveled up to 21 in COD: Modern Warfare 2 and unlocked the Bling perk; catching up on No Reservations; thoroughly confused and enthralled by the new season of LOST; hating my job like it's my job and am now actively searching (5 apps out in the last 24 hours); really hoping to somehow have a magical 4-day snowday weekend, but most likely not; thought the second half of the Super Bowl was some pretty incredible football playing and absolutely despised the onslaught of particularly misogynistic ads this year; made mozzarella cheese from scratch last weekend.

And there ya have it. I'm pretty much perpetually angry and frustrated, constantly smiling and knodding at the life in front of me while glancing sideways at any opportunity to get out of or change my present circumstances, job or IF-wise.

I feel like I'm ready to crack.

Let me show you my No Face.

I was hoping to eventually title a post "Let me show my my O face" but sadly, looks like I didn't ovulate. Blood tests and u/s seem to indicate a big fat nothin is happening up in my lady bits. Dr. G put it so nicely in an email to me on Thursday:

"The lab tests look no different from your old ones. In other words that "follicle" is not producing any hormones like a follicle does. It sounds as if it is an inert cyst. That does not explain all your symptoms except for the supposition that the cyst is shrinking and would have been bigger and more active hormonally if we had looked at this earlier. I would suggest we recheck your blood work in a week."

POF, FTW.

Also, what the hell is an inert cyst? Part of me is like, well, let's get the second round of bloodwork and an u/s done. The other part of me is tired of getting some seriously passive aggressive behavior from my boss at work who's getting a little tired of me having near montly trips to the doctor that eat up a half day (b/c of the location of my doc and the places he sends me to for diagnostics, it's all quite scattered far from where I work). I'm also tired of feeling like a fucking lab rat, poked and probed and prodded.

I'm bummed, big time. I'm frustrated, and I'm angry, and I'm tired of holding out false hope. Did I mention that Ari's other really awesome job lead fell through? That would have been amazing but alas, it's not to be. Got that news followed by that email from my doctor within just a few days of each other. (He's still had 1 interview this past week with Company A, another one Monday at Company B, a 2nd interview for Company A on Tuesday, and a formal offer from Company C on Wednesday. I'm excited for this week for him.)

I'm just really angry and tired of all of this. What I thought was excellent news this time last week was once again, just a fleeting anomoly - just light and shadows and nothing of substance to hold onto. I was so excited to have actual TTC babymakin' sex and then I got that email and basically didn't want to be touched. I could be channeling this energy into looking for a donor or finding an adoption agency instead of holding out this false hope that I'm actually going to conceive with my own eggs.

I fucking hate this. I fucking hate that infertility has become my life. I fucking hate that I feel like my life is on hold, when I can so clearly see the end result that I want, but I can't do a goddamned thing b/c something else pops up in front of me, pulling my attentions elsewhere.

I fucking hate waiting... and waiting, and waiting, and waiting- for blood tests, for ovulation, for emails back from my doctor, for finances, for things to just settle the fuck down already... I am stuck in a goddamned existential waiting room, flipping through magazines I don't really care about and tapping my toe impatiently.

I may need to go into hibernation for a bit.