Tag Archives: Endometriosis

Blast off! Blast off! Look at me I’m really writing BLAST OFF!

I just got chased by 2 toothless, half clothed mad people who wanted me to, “look at their pants” (Americans, this means underwear) and tell them if they “looked like gay boys.”

Good grief, just what I needed post transfer. Slightly concerned it may have killed off all the chi I had going to my uterus from acupuncture.

Lunatics aside, I am pupo! HELL YES I AM! With a blastocyst, no less. Amazing. The clinic called me this morning and said that we had 1 that was clearly the best and was graded bb (aa is best; ee is worst) and 2 others that were below-average quality and weren’t going to be good enough to freeze.

We jumped in the car and headed to the clinic. Rather too many tractors getting in the way for my liking, but Mr B pulled it out of the bag by finding a space in the car park (always full, ALWAYS) that was about an inch wider than our car. Meant he had to climb out of the window to exit, but still. Thankfully we returned before the people we parked next to did, ‘cos I don’t suppose they were half an inch wide and/or willing to climb into their cars through the boot.

When we arrived (to Ed Sheeran – Lego House, fact fans) and gowned up, the embryologist came to tell us that the embryo we were transferring was progressing and still a bb. Excellent. Then she asked if we wanted to freeze the other 2.

WHAT NOW, LADY.

Yep, my two naff looking early blasts had pulled themselves together (literally, I think) and had been upgraded to bb status as well. They were still not as good as the one I had transferred… something about being more oval shaped I think, but still, suitable for freezing. She also said another embryo had become an early blast but that was very poor quality and definitely too poor to freeze.

So here I am. I survived being chased by toothless maniacs and I am pupo with a blast, with two in the freezer. I mean, probably in the freezer, but I won’t know for sure until tomorrow. I shouldn’t know until a few weeks time when they write me a letter, but I know about this invention called telephones so that won’t be necessary.

The slightly bad news is that since I am having HCG boosters as well as progesterone, my OTD is not until 20th October.

Let the three week wait commence!

BB (and bb, lolz. Sorry) xx

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Sweet.

Home sweet home, finally. Man that was a long day.

I didn’t have Hero doing my egg collection which initially made me a bit sad, but his boss did it so I decided to trust that he knew what he was doing. He is also dead nice.

I’m still a bit off my face so this will be short, and oh-so-very SWEET.

Yep, you read right. My scarred, mangled, broken you-will-always-have-a-bad-response useless turds of ovaries coughed up 6 eggs. Technically, they made 7 but one was a complete dud and has been discarded. Of the 6 (six! OH MY GOD) left the quality looks to be a bit naff. There isn’t actually much that they can tell at all from looking at an egg (I’ve learnt this the hard way when even mature looking eggs ended up being immature during previous cycles), so I’m not going to give it much thought. Embryo quality is a far better indicator, and even poor quality embryos can make babies. Out of the 6 (SIX OH MY GOD), one really does look proper naff so I don’t have high hopes for him.

This is better than I ever hoped for, and is as many eggs as my previous 3 cycles added together. Whatever the concerns about quality, this is still 6 (SIX OH MY GOD) chances.

I have such high hopes that I will actually have 2 early embryos to transfer on Monday. I’ve certainly never even had a chance of a blastocyst or frozen embryos in the past, and right now there is even a little chance of that. A chance. An actual, real chance. Maybe not a likely one, but I’ll take a chance. Oh yes I will.

I really wish I didn’t have to wait until Monday for a fert report.

BB xx

Trigger time, baby

I have really, really bad news.

I lost the piece of paper that I wrote the waiting room tunes down on and I’ve forgotten them all apart from Christina Aguilera – Beautiful, Sarah McLachlan – Angel and Take That – Back for Good.

On a more positive note, my scan results today read like an IVF dream. 12 follicles ranging from 12mm to 23mm, with 6 at 20-23mm, 3 at 17mm and 3 that are 12-15mm. 5 are still too small at 5-10mm. This is my best response to stims ever.

I know that last time I had a lot of follicles and only 1 mature egg. I know that in previous cycles I’ve also only managed 1 or 2 eggs. I know the doctors say that no matter what, I will always get a low number because of all the damage to my ovaries, but regardless, I can’t help but feel vaguely hopeful. At least all those follicles mean chances of eggs.

I will be doing cartwheels if I get 3 or 4 mature eggs that fertilise normally. It seems like such a small ask from 12 follicles and so far away at the same time.

My lining has shrunk from 11.5mm down to 9mm. Weird. My feeling is that 9mm is still fine and they probably just measured it from a different area. My uterus is special and tilted away so it can be pretty hard to measure anything in there anyway. Who knows. I’m too tired to think it through.

So trigger time is 8.15pm tonight with egg collection scheduled for Friday morning. Surely 12 follicles will yield more than a couple of eggs? Surely life can’t be so cruel to make me go through this a fourth time, have my best response ever, only to have my worst outcome ever? Surely? Surely? What have I ever done to life to deserve that?*

BB xx

*don’t answer

Improvement

Gosh, stims are making me awful tired yo.

I had a sudden panic on Friday (who am I kidding, the entire weekend) that the clinic would a) force me to have an egg collection on Wednesday when I was scared it was too early and b) forget about my general anaesthetic. As a result I made Mr B accompany me to today’s scan. As it happened the poor man just spent 40 minutes trying to find a parking space and waited for me while I sorted it all out myself. Oops.

Anyway, the most important part of the day: the waiting room play list. If you need to refresh your memory on the scoring system, here you go:

10 = Top Notch, e.g. pan pipes – nothing offensive or distressing here. Doesn’t interfere with kindle reading etc, etc.
9 = Inoffensive Drivel, e.g. easy listening
8 = Normal music
7 = Joke Music, e.g. The Lion King
6 = Slightly Irritating Drivel, e.g. Taylor Swift
5 = One Direction
4 = Melancholy, e.g. Skinny Love, Birdy
3 = Tear Jerkers, e.g. All By Myself, Celine Dion
2 = Depressing, e.g. Radiohead
1 = Candle in the Wind

Story of my Life, One Direction
Massive lolz. I KNEW IT! The first song that played as my bum hit the seat. I have to confess, I had no idea it was One Direction until I googled it just now*. Talk about a pile of poo. Scoring is pretty easy though – 5.

Side note, since when was it cool to dress like a grubby pirate? I don’t understand kidz these days.

*Mr B makes a One Direction joke where he calls them Wand Erection instead. Say it out loud (quietly, depending on your location). Funny? That might not work in another accent actually. Sorry in advance.

How Long Will I Love You, Ellie Goulding
Love a bit of Ellie Goulding me, but this song is a tad depressing. If I was about to cry it could definitely tip me over the edge. Sigh – 4.

Side note, I just googled this for verification it was indeed Miss Goulding and watched the video. It has Charlie from Casualty in it.

Written in the Stars, Tinie Tempah, ft. Eric Turner
This song collection is even weirder than a radio station. Let’s mix up all this somber drivel with some rap, yo – 8.

Some kind of unidentifiable crap. Oh, I mean “dance” “music”. Query Kylie Minogue.
Dunno – 8?

Skyscraper, Sam Bailey
Ah, another clinic favourite. I’ve heard this one almost as much as Skinny Love. I even know all the words now. It’s a bit warbly isn’t it? And so awfully, awfully, LOUD. I was just about to stick my fingers in my ears when someone turned it down and I panicked that Reception could read minds, which would be pretty bad for me because I am always either a) bitching the clinic out in my head or b) thinking something I shouldn’t about Henry Cavill.

Oh, a score. 6 I guess. This scoring system is so bad.

An African choir song. No idea.
Sounded like it could have been an outtake from the Lion King soundtrack, so – 7.

Human, Christina Perri
I’d never heard this song before and hopefully I will never hear it again – 2.

Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Paloma Faith
I wouldn’t be so sure Paloma, just wait until you need an endometrial scratch or a HSG with blocked tubes. They hurt pretty bad – 4.

Side note, Mr B started singing along to this by the end (in a lady voice) before announcing to the waiting room, “I’ve never even heard this song but I’m already getting into it!” Yep, we guessed.

I bet you are hoping that they aren’t so late with my next appointments aren’t you? Yeah well, me too. Today’s waiting room play list monitoring score is a whopping 44 with a 5.5 average. Borderline One Direction and Slightly Inoffensive Drivel. An improvement, much like my monitoring scan.

Smooth link Betty.

Follicle scan looked better. If only follicles meant eggs. At least it means a chance of eggs, which looked doubtful on the cycles where I only had 2-3 follicles in total. My ovaries are setting a new record this time around. I hope they aren’t building up to the Worst Egg Collection In History, but I wouldn’t put it past the lazy little turds.

I wasn’t paying much attention (unlike me, dunno why) but I think I have 5 on the left: 12, 12, 14, 16, 20mm and 6 on the right: 11, 11, 12, 14, 15, 17mm. I also have 7 more on the right, all under 10. 11 follicles over 10; 7 under 10. Wow. If I didn’t know better, I’d be excited about those numbers.

Egg collection is likely to be Friday. The worst of all egg collection days because it means no fert report until Monday.

Oh God, please let me some eggs and a fert report to worry about.

Almost there now. IVF4 needs to show me some love.

BB xx

P.s. Hero came in and said a very loud and jolly “good morning” to me in a crowded waiting room and it took me about 15 seconds to notice it was directed at me. It wasn’t until I looked up from my Kindle and saw him and the rest of the waiting room looking at me expectantly that I gave him a, “oh, err morning” back. Cringe.

Monitoring appointment, ft. One Direction

I went all by my little self to my appointment yesterday. The trains were less than ideal, so an hour long appointment took me 6 hours door to door. Marvellous.

You may have noticed I have become slightly obsessed with the songs that they play in the waiting room (no Skinny Love today, fact fans). I spied yesterday that there is a suggestions box in the corner and before I leave I am definitely going to suggest pan pipes. I’ve been trapped in that gloomy waiting room for some appointments, surrounded by weeping women and fake flowers, for hours and hours while I listened to the pained screechings of a dying cat. Oh, I mean “music”. I have devised a scoring chart for forthcoming appointments:

10 = Top Notch, e.g. pan pipes – nothing offensive or distressing here. Doesn’t interfere with kindle reading etc, etc.
9 = Inoffensive Drivel, e.g. easy listening
8 = Normal music
7 = Joke Music, e.g. The Lion King
6 = Slightly Irritating Drivel, e.g. Taylor Swift
5 = One Direction
4 = Melancholy, e.g. Skinny Love, Birdy
3 = Tear Jerkers, e.g. All By Myself, Celine Dion
2 = Depressing, e.g. Radiohead
1 = Candle in the Wind

Waiting room songs from today:

Beneath Your Beautiful, Labrinth ft. Emeli Sandé
It’s like an itch I can’t scratch reading that song title.
Melancholy was the first word that sprung to mind so that was easy – 4.
I checked that’s how they spell it, grammar police. Don’t come crying to me.

*itches*

Bleeding Love, Leona Lewis
Oh why oh why oh why don’t I have a shit song category. It’s pretty bleeding miserable – 4.

Holding Back The Years, Simply Red
Simply one of the worst things to ever invade my ears. However, this isn’t a singing competition, so – 9.

Everytime, Britney Spears
Love a bit of Britney me, but good grief this is depressing. It’s also screechy and a) hurt my ears and b) severely impacted kindle concentration – 2.

Son of a Preacher Man, Aretha Franklin
Amazing. 8.

Shit. There is something very wrong with my scoring system if Simply Red comes out above Aretha Franklin.

Underneath Your Clothes, Shakira
Someone in the waiting room hummed along to this entire song. This isn’t the video where she rolls around in the dirt with Rafael Nadal is it? That just gave me an idea that they should play the videos on the TV screen instead of photographs of wildlife. Anyways, I digress – 6.

How Am I Supposed To Live Without You, Michael Bolton
Can I do emoticons on WordPress? Me right now —–> 😂
– 2

I Was Born To Try, Delta Goodrem
No.

Oh God I have to rate this a 6.

Okay, that comes to 41, which is an average score of 5.12, One Direction. Interesting.

I’m straying so far away from the purpose of this blog post that I’m not sure I can reign in back in. My first monitoring scan, day 8 of stims. It didn’t go great, no surprises there. I’ve had first scans that looked dreadful (just a massive cyst and a couple of tiny follicles) and ones that looked amazing (8-10 follicles all growing at the same rate, above 10mm) and the outcome of them all at egg collection was absolutely dismal. I think my monitoring appointments mean about as much as my waiting room music scoring system does.

I have 4 follicles over 10mm (11-16mm) and a few smaller ones. My problem is that my ovaries are so damaged that things that look like follicles on the scans are actually just collections of fluid that have formed in pockets of scar tissue. In addition to that, the follicles themselves often end up being empty. Based on my previous cycles if I only have these four “follicles” I will be very lucky to get 1 egg.

I’m not dwelling on it; it is what it is. My ovaries are severely damaged and as a result of that it’s extremely difficult to get my eggs out. My lining is getting too thick, again, already. Not good. I was alarmed to hear my egg collection is pencilled in for Wednesday, just 12 days after starting Menopur. I’ve always had my egg collections 15-16 days after starting stims in the past and I still ended up with immature eggs so I’m not happy about that at all. I’ll query it on Monday I guess.

I am really not looking forward to this egg collection.

As a side note, the day they play that bloody Pharrell Williams song in the waiting room is the day I rip the speakers off the walls and EAT THEM.

BB xx

Birdy and the crow

Do you want to know what’s annoying me?

Okay, who am I trying to kid. Of course you do. You guys.

I’ve upped my protein intake during stims (again, because it worked so well the last few times didn’t it). I’m trying not to eat any much sugar or any many carbs, so I’m snacking on nuts if I feel nibbly. I’ve been snacking on brazil nuts every now and again, and every single time I eat one, I sing “bra-ziiiiiiiiiil.”

If you don’t know why that’s annoying, you probably don’t watch football. If you do, I’m sorry, because it probably just annoyed you too.

Bra-ziiiiiiillll.

I CAN’T STOP.

Other news:

1. Coconut water still tastes of dribble. Thanks Turtle.

2. I’ve just finished Fall of Giants and Winter of the World by Ken Follett*. Brillo. If you like William Boyd books, I’d say you’d like them. I also absolutely LOVED Pillars of the Earth and World Without End. I’m about to start Restless by William Boyd now, for your information.

3. I think I am physically incapable of drinking 2 litres of water a day. This is interesting because I’m pretty sure I could knock back 2 litres of wine.

4. My clinic have an, ahem, interesting music collection that they pipe into the waiting room. A current favourite seems to be Skinny Love by Birdy which has been playing every time I’ve been there recently. Last time my mum came with me she whispered (shouted), “Good grief, as if this isn’t depressing enough.” Aye mum, you ain’t wrong there. If I had an IVF clinic, I’d play pan pipes. Can’t go wrong with pan pipes.

5. I’ve had the Ted Hughes poem “Crow Blacker Than Ever” going round and round my head. How, when and why I committed this poem to memory I can’t tell you, but I can tell you it’s stuck there and it won’t go away.

6. My first monitoring appointment is Friday and I am bricking it.

I’m trying to just focus on one day at a time, but it’s not exactly very easy given that I’ve been failing at this for 4 years now and I’m coming to the end of treatment. I think I need distractions. Can anyone set me a challenge?

BB xx

*I am not offended by children being born in books, especially ones set in the past (these books are set in both world wars) or in the future, however if you have an aversion to this then I suggest you do not read them.

Time to get stabby, again

I haven’t blogged for a while again. Soz.

I am used to hearing people whine about birth control pills… How they make them CRAZY, how they make them tired, a mental bitch, thirsty, and blah, waa, blah. I used to think, whatever. People exaggerate. They are so blooming, over the top. I took the pill for years. Year and years and YEARS and I wasn’t a mental bitch that whole ti… oh.

I had to take norethisterone for a week. No idea why. Scheduling? No idea. And my goodness me I was feeling all the feelings. I mean, all the bad ones.

Anyways, that’s all over and done with now and lucky for you I concentrated on revelling in my misery rather than writing it down. You’re most welcome.

So I believe I have nothing much to report. I start stims tonight, again. I’m taking letrozole and 450iu Menopur, again. I am guzzling a high protein diet, again. I am drinking whole milk, again. On day 6 I will start cetrotide, again. And my first scan will be in a week, where I hope to God there is not a replay of any previous cycles again. Hmm. That math don’t look good does it? (Same + same + same) x more same = different?

I’m too scared to think too much about this cycle, so I am off now to bury my head in the sand.

BB xx

P.s. Current fancy, Evan Peters. Weird, right?
P.p.s Do not judge me on this until you have watched Season 2 of American Horror Story.