Trying Not to Obsess

So far, so good. The two peas still seem to be hanging out in the Nest’s pod. She said that she’s been a little tired the last few days. I’m not sure that she’d be tired this early into a pregnancy, but I’ll take that little nugget of info and run with it.

Honestly, I’ve been better than I thought about obsessing with the fact that this could actually be the time that works and that Jack Bauer and I could be parents in nine short months (after almost five years, nine months is nothing).

The most Jack and I have talked about the prospect of parenting this week is about potential boy names. If we have twin girls, we already have the names picked out, but the boy names have been harder. Our favorite name in the world has been given to our little boy in Vietnam (see end of posting for more details on that), so we need some new ones if these are XY embryos. But, I digress.

Monday was tough, but for some reason, every day has gotten a little bit easier not to completely obsess. I will admit though, it is a very surreal situation.

And, unlike my many blogging IF friends, the Nest will not be doing a home pregnancy test before her Beta which is still nine days away, though she did jokingly threaten that she was going to go to the Dollar Store and pick up ten tests and take one a day until she saw those magical two blue lines.

Perhaps a little known fact: those Dollar Store tests work. I only discovered them a year or so after a friend told me that the Dollar Store carries ovulation test kits. The ones I’ve used are much clunkier than the sleek and slender expensive brands (and they sometimes have instructions only in Spanish), but for me, if I was going to only see one line, I’d rather pay a dollar rather than $13. I figure I’ve taken no less than 20 HPTs in the last five years – think of the money I could’ve saved.

And, an update on our nonbio boy in Vietnam: Our hopefulness was short-lived. We received more troubling news this week that makes it less and less likely that we (or the 22 other families waiting for their babies) will get to ever bring him home. I’m about at my wit’s end on this situation, but that’s a whole other story.

After re-reading this posting, I realize that I should have titled it Random Thoughts. Sorry, I can blame lack of clarity due to lack of caffeine this morning – and a mind going in hundreds of directions.

Is today Father's Day for Jack Bauer?

This morning, our wonderful fertility doctor transferred two beautiful thawed embryos (an 8-cell and a 12-cell) into the Nest’s “playpen,” as he called it. What a fun place – she had it decked out with comfy blankets, toys and snacks. So, now the waiting begins again. Play nice, kiddos.

Earlier this week, I mentioned that it had to be fate that our transfer day is Father’s Day (I barely remember the dates or the months for the three transfers that I went through), doesn’t that give those embies a little extra boost knowing they have a daddy waiting for them? Sure, Jack Bauer has an important role breaking up terrorist cells, advising the President on global security issues and decoding nuclear devices, but he’s also a pretty amazing guy (please don’t get a big head, Jack) with awesome daddy potential.

I think you can tell a lot about how a guy would act as a dad by watching him interact with your pets. Jack makes up funny songs about the dog and cats (usually it’s a Journey or Bon Jovi song with new lyrics), cleans up cat vomit (usually after he found it with his bare foot), beams with pride when the dog learns a new trick or doesn’t eat her own poo, breaks up fights, and pets, plays and loves on them several times a day. If that’s not a daddy waiting to happen, I don’t know who is.

I’d love it if next Father’s Day, I’m in the kitchen trying not to burn the toast and Jack’s sitting on the couch reading the newspaper to our 3-month old twins and 30-month old nonbio baby boy while singing them a song about tooting and burping to the tune of “You Give Love a Bad Name.”

Happy Father’s Day to all dads (especially my own), bio dads and nonbio dads, and hopeful dads.

22 eggs, 16 embryos, One Last Chance

In my entry from earlier in the week, I was bragging about my uncanny ability to produce bushels of eggs, but I failed to mention the fact that Jack Bauer’s sperm count is off the charts – he’s got more swimmers than there are in fish in the Atlantic.

How is it possible that the egg factory and super sperm not get pregnant? Mystery to me and my fertility doctor. We seem to be in that oh-so-elite group of 10% of unfruitful couples with unexplained infertility.

So, after the 22 eggs were fertilized, only 16 made it into viable embryos. And, most of these weren’t just any embryos, they were “beautiful embryos” as my fertility doctor called them.

My first IVF transferred two of these beautiful budding babies to no avail. At my second IVF transfer, three were placed, and at my third and final, four were put back in my nest, but for some reason, they didn’t like their home, even though my uterine lining was apparently a sublime environment.

I tried not to take it personally.

So that leaves us with two frozen embryos -- yes, I know my math is wrong. But, five frozen embryos didn’t survive the thawing process.

So, we’re putting all of our eggs (or embryos) in one basket (or The Nest).