The High Tech Way

Luck, and the way the Universe works

As previously reported here, the day after my egg retrieval the company I work for told me they would no longer require my services after Dec. 31.  That there were layoffs was not surprising to me.  This is the next-year-budget time of year and when everyone plans their cuts. But I was surprised they chose me.  I produce more quantity and quality than anyone else, and I am geographically located in the midst of where the industry I cover is located, unlike some others on the staff.

But for whatever reason, I was chosen.  And that it happened the day after retrieval did not make for a happy moment. What if the cycle worked and I was unemployed? We would be more than broke.

However, I had actually started looking for a new job in August because David and I are planning to move back to the East Coast, targeting the first half of 2007 for a move.  I was looking for a job that I could take with me when we move.

Five days after I was laid off, I got a job offer for a job that would do just that. It also pays almost 20 percent more, and is back working again for a favorite old boss.  Plus, because I was laid off before I got the offer, I still get a severance package. Had the job offer come through 10 days earlier, I would have just given my notice and not known anything about the severance package.

Honestly, I felt as though I had won the lottery.  I kept thinking -- we are NOT this lucky.  We have had crap luck the past eight years with all the deaths and infertility and layoffs, etc.  The severance, we thought, could cover a maternity leave, if necessary, since I would not be covered under the United States' crappy maternity leave policy as I would only be at my job for nine months before I had to take my leave. I would be lucky if they took me back after taking the time off.

Really, between the job and the positive pee sticks I have been feeling like our luck had really reversed itself. But now I'm not so sure.

Yesterday's low beta really surprised me and unhinged me a little.

I know everyone says that the doubling is what is important on the beta numbers.  But I have been pregnant three times total (not including this), and each time I had a doubling or tripling beta. 

Here are the stats:

Natural pregnancy (!)
16DPO hcg = 24
18DPO hcg = 59
miscarriage at 6 weeks

IVF #1
14 DPR hcg = 121
16 DPR hcg = 306
Diagnosed with Trisomy 18 at 18 weeks. D&E

FET #1
14 DP hcg = 165
16 DP hcg = 514
Turned into our Jack-pot!

With that trend in mind you can see why I don't put a lot of faith in the whole doubling thing as the total indicator of whether everything is OK.

However, I have since gone back to my old message boards and the multi-page thread where everyone has posted their betas.  It was reassuring to see that many of the people who had a beta at 14DPO/R in the range of what I got yesterday (83) had gone on to deliver healthy babies. 

I am desperately hoping that things are OK with this one too. The low beta has sort of drained all the new-job joy out of me.  THe clinic is letting me come back tomorrow to get another beta. Please, please let it be OK.

Five boring things about me

I am so tremendously flattered that the lovely lady over at HealingArts tagged me. Five things you don't know about me (sorry to bore you to tears here...):

1. David and I have an affinity for bright yellow cars. I started us out with the "vivid yellow" Protege5 and then he copied me by getting a yellow Mazda RX8, also known as his midlife crisis (MLC) car. Since then we occasionally engage in long conversations about car colors. We agree that we can never go back to another color besides yellow, a decision that has the potential to seriously limit our future car choices. Even we are surprised at how much time we can spend talking about the color yellow and its apparent importance in our lives.

2. I am a terrible disorganized slob. This also carries over into my email habits.  I think, I will get to that email later, and then I never do and I forget about it.  I have made it my life's mission to improve my organizational skills [FranklinCovey, Flylady, etc.] and I am always asking people what has worked for them.  Over the past few years I have switched back and forth and back again from paper calendar systems to PDAs to paper to PDAs.  Neither is quite right for all purposes. (Note-taking and to-do lists are better on paper, while calendars and contacts are better electronically. But the PDA calendar displays are so small that it is hard to see more than a day at a glance...Still, it is nice to be able to drag Outlook emails onto the Outlook calendar to mark an appointment.  Then you have all the important information about that meeting right there.)

3. We have three cats.  The youngest one only has one eye. (see below. He's the one on the left) We felt sorry for him when we adopted him four years ago, the poor little one-eyed kitten. (His humane society papers said he was brought in with a badly damaged eye that the vets there subsequently removed.)  After a very short time we realized he probably lost his eye because he was an asshole.  He liked to torment our other cats by playing roughly with them until well past when they'd told him to stop it or they would kill him.  I'd like to say he's settled down a lot four years later, but I can only say he's settled down a little. Also, we named him Owen, after our then-favorite comedic actor, filmwriter: Owen Wilson, also an apparent troublemaker.

4. In spite of the lengths we've gone to to get pregnant and have a child, I am an alternative health kind of chick.  When I was laid off for the first time in 2001, I went to massage school for a few months -- enough to get certified in California.  I have a dream of working for Rodale Publishing in Emmaus, Pa., publisher of Organic Gardening, Runners World, Prevention, Men's Health, and the South Beach Diet Book. I love yoga, and my grandmother was, among other things, a yoga instructor. I buy organic whenever I can. And I voted for the Green Party candidate for governor. David, on the other hand, likes prescriptions from medical doctors to fix all his ills.

5. My beta number today came back at: 83. This is at 14DPR. While this is a positive number and I should be grateful for that, it makes me very very very very nervous about the viability of this pregnancy. Did I mention I was nervous  about that number?  Our trisomy 18 pregnancy was at 121 at 14DPR (days past retrieval), and Jack was at 165 at 14DPR. Our one natural pregnancy that miscarried just before six weeks was at 29 at 16DPO (days past ovulation). This leads me to believe that a nice high number is better.  I'm hoping to do a repeat beta on Saturday. But they may make me wait til Monday.  Honestly, I thought the number would be quite a bit higher, given the darkness of the pee sticks. But I guess that is not such a highly reliable scientific method for guessing the beta number.

The couple in the elevator

When I went to get my blood drawn for my beta (!) test this morning, I rode up on the elevator with the couple I'd waited with in the blood draw area two weeks ago.  Back then, they were there for their beta test.  They said it was their first and only IVF, and they hadn't used an HPT.  I thought then that I would never know what happened to them.

And today I was afraid to ask. Because even though there they were back two weeks after their beta test, presumably for an ultrasound to take a look at the implanted embryos, something you only do when you are pregnant, they looked somber.

I wanted to say, "Congratulations!  So glad to see you back here two weeks later!"

But I was afraid to. Maybe their home pregnancy test (HPT) showed a fading line. Or maybe they'd been in a couple days before and the ultrasound was not as far along as expected. (I didn't think it could be a "Next Step" appointment because a) our clinic only schedules those in the afternoon and b) the couple had said this was their one and only IVF)  So I was just worried about them, and afraid if I said anything they would burst into tears (ok, maybe just SHE would burst into tears and he would look forlorn).  You know, I've been in that place of stressing out and waiting. There is so much hope pinned on this process. Your whole life is different depending on the outcome.  And adjusting to the outcome takes some time.

So I was quiet in the elevator. I let them go into the office first. And I still don't know what happened  for them. But I'm still praying and keeping my fingers crossed for them.

Looking at day-3 embryos

Our fertility clinic is not one of those that gives you pictures of your embryos. But before they transfer them, you are allowed to step up on a stool and look through a microscope at them.

We did that for our first IVF and saw three beautiful embryos. We transfered those three, one of them implanted and at 18 weeks gestation was diagnosed with a fatal genetic disorder.

When we did the frozen embryo transfer we had one 8-celled embryo and one that used to be 8 cells but was down to two after the thaw.  Again we got to look at these embryos. One of them turned into our little Jack-pot.  But you couldn't tell from looking at the embryos which ones would implant, which ones were healthy and which ones had chromosomal problems so severe that they could not survive.

Nine days ago we looked at five very beautiful embryos under a microscope.  I hope one of them becomes a healthy baby. But there is no way to tell if one of them will just by looking at them.

Embryos are a blueprint for a baby. They contain all the instructions on how to make a baby. And to build the baby they need raw materials -- nutrition, oxygen, etc. And they also need a suitable site for building the baby. 

Lots of things can go wrong at any stage of the process. Number one, the blueprints can be flawed. They may not provide the instructions to build all the things the baby needs. This is what happens when there is a chromosomal problem.

Number two, the right raw materials may not be available. Maybe there is not enough folic acid for one reason or another, or some other vital substance that is essential to an embryo's development. 

Number three, there may be issues with the building site. Maybe there are antibodies that are working to oust the newcomer. Maybe there is a polyp or fibroid compromising the suitability of the site. Maybe the embryo lands in the fallopian tube.

Not all embryos turn into a baby.  So far we have a one in eight record -- one embryo out of our original eight in the first IVF turned into a baby. 

And even after there is a positive pregnancy test, there are still so many milestones that must be passed on the journey to a healthy baby. The miscarriage rate for women my age is  one in three, I think. And the odds of a chromosomal problem get higher as you get older. 

Nonetheless, we have passed a bit of a milestone, getting positive results on our store-bought home pregnancy tests.

It feels a bit like the game of Survivor on TV, or a game of musical chairs.  Getting a positive doesn't mean I'll end up with a baby. But at least I haven't been voted off the island yet.

Musings at 11 DPR: California is a big place, and the weather isn't AWAYS beautiful

Twelve years ago or so when I told people I was moving to California, most of them thought that I was moving here, when actually I was moving more to this area. California is a big state with Pacific Ocean beaches, desert, mountains and ski resorts, and urban and rural areas.

And while it is true that we enjoy a cloudless blue sky for most of the summer here in Silicon Valley (about an hour south of San Francisco, where it gets really chilly, especially in the summer, much to the surprise of tourists who bring only shorts and t-shirts to wear), it is also true that we do have "seasons" of a sort. While it doesn't snow here, aside from the very rare and therefore extremely exciting flurry, in November the weather shifts to gray skys, damp chilly winds and rain. It's hard to ever get your feet warm enough. And because you live in California, you think it is silly to wear a coat. So you have a light jacket and you are always cold. The best time of day is when you can get into your car, which you've renamed "my own personal sauna" and crank up the feet heat until your skin changes from blue to a healthy pink again.  You can smell that other people in the neighborhood are burning wood fires in their fireplaces, but you don't have one of those because the median family home price here is $775,000, so you have the low-amenities townhouse instead, complete with a homeowners association and that comes with a requisite crazy person who believes the more red tape the better.

So that is what the weather pattern is settling into today. It is raining, it is windy. I want a mocha latte with whipped cream but really should only have a decaf green tea. I want to take a hot bath and get back into bed and page through frivolous magazines, but I have to keep doing this job, even though they have told me the day after my egg retrieval that my services will no longer be required as of Dec. 31. And if I can't do that, I'd love to be able to do my grocery shopping that was canceled this weekend due to Jack's under-the-weather-ness. Then maybe some HPT (home pregnancy tests) might accidentally fall into my cart. After all, today is 11 days past retrieval, (11 DPR, or if you are fertile 11 DPO, the O standing for ovulation and if you are lucky, for something that is actually FUN too.)

 

Tummy troubles

Jack’s daycare called yesterday at about 3:30 to say he threw up and looked like he had a little tummy bug.  So I went over and got him early.  He was wearing different clothes, because he’d puked all over himself — his shirt, his pants, his shoes, his socks.  They had pasta and peas for lunch yesterday, and that’s what came up. (OK, you probably didn’t need that visual.)

So I brought him home and Jack and David and I all sat on the couch together for several hours and watched Sesame Street over and over.  You could tell Jack was feeling really bad because he didn’t hand us the remote during the parts he didn’t like.  He just sat through the parts he usually lost interest in (Mr. Noodle, the cartoons, etc.)

We gave him some water and he must have been very thirsty because he drank a lot. Then we gave him a cracker and he ate that. But before long that came up again, along with the rest of the noodles and peas.

Poor kid was so upset.  He was crying because he didn’t feel well. He was crying because we weren’t following his schedule.  He was crying because he wanted his milk and he DIDN’T want his milk. (He’d reach for it and then when you’d bring it t him he’d shake his head and shrink away from it.)

We were going to skip his bath, but we eventually gave him one anyway. He seemed to want it, and it did seem to help him calm down. We blew bubbles while he was in the tub, and those made him smile a little.

We gave him a little pedialyte. We got him all cozy in his overnight diaper, his fleece jammies with the feet and his blankie.

He didn’t want to read his books or hear any stories, so I just sang to him for a little while as he stared up at a mobile hanging from the ceiling. When he started rubbing his eyes I gave him kisses and put him in his crib. He went right to sleep.

Poor little guy was so miserable and there was nothing to do to make him feel better. Agonizing. 

Today his tummy is better. He is still a little off kilter, but you can see that he is on the mend, thank goodness.  Now I need a nap…

 

New Hallmark holiday: Embryologists' Day

Both on the day of the egg retrieval and the day of the embryo transfer for our current IVF cycle, the nurses and the embryologists at the facility were so happy to hear about our frozen embryo transfer (FET) success. David brought in a few pictures of Jack to show off when we went for the embryo transfer.

Babies aren’t allowed at these facilities and at our RE offices, and I think rightly so.  It can be so upsetting to see a baby when you are trying and trying to conceive but are having no success, as many of us know from experience.

But because of this, the nurses and embryologists never know if a procedure succeeds, and they never get to see the results.  So they were just drooling over the pics of our Jack-pot.  If you are successful in your pursuit of parenthood and you think of it, drop a card in the mail to the nurses and embryologists and enclose a picture of the results. I bet they will be thrilled.

Here are the two pics David had in is wallet, both taken a few months ago.

The chemical fumes at Supercuts

David took off from work the whole day of the egg retrieval too, presumably to make sure I didn’t lapse into a coma after coming out of general anesthesia. But after he made sure I was comfy on the couch he promptly took off to go get his hair cut at Supercuts. Hair vs. wife in coma — you know, you need to have your priorities in order.

He told his stylist that day that his wife had just had an egg retrieval for IVF.

Stylist: IVF?

David: You know, test tube babies?

Stylist: (long long pause.) That’s cool. So do they let you go visit them during the nine months they are in the test tube?

David: no, they are just conceived in a petri dish.  They still put them back in my wife to grow for the nine months

Stylist: It’s cool that you can do it that way, you know, if you don’t want to do it the other way.

David: No, we had to do it this way because we couldn’t conceive the regular way.

Stylist: Oh. Well it’s good you could do this then so you don’t have to adapt.  You know go through the adaption process.

David: Yeah, it’s good.

And the waiting begins

If you are a woman and you’ve ever tried to get pregnant you know what I mean. The dreaded two week wait (2WW) — the time between ovulation (or egg retrieval in the case of IVF) and when they do the beta test or you can take a home pregnancy test (commonly known as “pee on a stick” POAS). 

Yes, during this time you will search “uterus twinge” or “heavy feeling uterus” on Google 600 or 700 times.  You will click on every link.

You will analyze the size of your breasts. Do they seem a quarter-inch bigger than yesterday? Are your nipples darker. Maybe you should stare at them in the mirror for 2 more hours to make sure. 

Do you feel nauseated? (Or maybe that’s just from watching the never-ending cow lips-eating segment (complete with fat, gristle and teeth) on the Amazing Race on Sunday night).

Some places you’ve read that if you have a metal taste in your mouth it could mean something.  So you focus on what your mouth tastes like.  Mostly so far it tastes like Halloween candy. You write that down in case it might be important later.

Someone else told you that when she got pregnant with her twins she did deep breathing exercises twice a day. So today you started to hyperventilate while at work until everyone in the cubicles around you started to look at you strangely.

You have been very tired the past few days and you know that this is a classic pregnancy symptom. It’s good to fall asleep during CSI Miami.

And you have been doing a lot of cooking. Maybe that is nesting? Or maybe it has to do with the fact that you went to Costco after you got the layoff notice from your company last week and bought a lot of stuff to make ahead and fill your freezer with so you will stop buying take out food and become instantly more frugal.

You are having vivid dreams.  (Here’s a synopsis of last night’s: We live in a big apartment and we discover that we haven’t been using two of the bedrooms. Turns out the view from one of those unused bedrooms is an amazing panoramic of the ocean and beach. So we consider moving our bed to this room instead. Also, we discover that many of the undiscovered rooms have unlocked doors to the outside, often to public restaurants and outdoor cafes. We are torn between being happy about the convenience of that and being worried about strangers wandering into our house uninvited)

Could it be that even two days before implantation is supposed to begin (we are only 5–days past retrieval now…) that these are pregnancy symptoms?

Maybe, but in the cruelest irony for all IVF patients the HcG trigger shot followed with the progesterone in oil (PIO) chaser shots every night CAUSE pregnancy symptoms so that anything you feel could be just a bunch of hormones.

Still, maybe if I phrase "heavy feeling uterus" another way I might get a different interesting result from Google that will reveal the ultimate truth…

And it's only lunchtime

Again today I woke up about an hour before I had to and stared at the clock again, thinking this time about my job situation until it was time for me to get up.

My first layoff was in June 2001 and I was close to landing another job that September, but then terrorists attacked New York City and Washington and someone was sending Anthrax in the mail and that pretty much put an end to anyone’s hiring plans that year. It was enough to shake my confidence in my ability to come out OK at the other end of something like this.

So last night I had a dream that I was back working for an old boss who never really liked me very much. He was telling me how much stressful work I would have to complete each week and how little he would pay me for it. And then at some point I looked down the street and saw a big landmark building collapsing. Could this be a layoff/job anxiety dream?

I just dreaded being at work today. My company was kind enough to send my severance agreement so that it arrived on Saturday. I haven’t opened it yet. But everyone has been very nice to me today and not overly weird and icky. (If you’ve ever been laid off you know what I mean. It’s like you have leprosy. Other people are afraid of catching it from you. They are sorry for you, though. Still, they have no idea what to say to you so they avoid looking at you.)

Then I heard that someone had called one of my references for another job I’d hoped to get (and my desire to get that job increased exponentially after I got Friday’s lay off news…) On the one hand, that this reference was contacted raises my hopes about whether this job will come through. On the other hand, do things ever work out that smoothly for me? Not for a long time. I don’t want to get too excited or happy, because things could go sideways fast.

Then David and I went to our favorite burger place for lunch. My head was just spinning with the stuff that’s been going on the past few days between my job situation and the IVF.  So when the owner, who is just a super guy, asked us how we were doing we told him our heads were spinning. And then we told him why.  Turns out he and his wife went through fertility treatments for 10 years and did three IVFs, the last one transferring eight embryos, with no success. 

He talked about the toll it takes on your relationship and said he could see how solid David and I are.  He talked about what the hormones do to the woman.  He talked about the emotional roller coaster, which in the long run is more damaging than the expense. He was ONE OF US.  He was crying, and it made me cry. He said they’d talked about adopting but his wife is not keen on that solution.  They would make awesome parents, they are such a wonderful couple.

My head was spinning even more by the time we left there. I was in tears. I just want to make it better for them, even though they have decided they are finished. I know that IVF and other fertility treatments don’t work for everyone, and it makes me so sad. I am sad for the people who would be such wonderful parents and have endured disappointment after disappointment with no light at the end of the tunnel.