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Seth went to give platelets early this morning. While he was gone, I got J's daily medication taken care of, got the babies out of their cribs, changed them, and made everybody pancakes. All four kids were eating their pancakes when Seth called to say he was on his way home. Our conversation went something like this:

Seth: Good news! I'm on my way home.
Me: Great! Happy Father's Day! I've got pancakes waiting for you – J! Do not drink off the chair! Turn around, sit properly, and drink appropriately! Sorry, honey. So, um, I'll see you soon?
Seth: Yeah, I'm leaving [city] now, so I'll be home shortly. Anything you need me to do on the way home?
Me: No, there are some things we need to pick – Sam! Don't throw your plate on the floor! Ugh. Of course, right after he threw his plate on the floor, he did his little mumbly-giggly thing and proceded to eat the pancake he still had in his hands. Um, right. So there are some things we need to pick up for the nanny for the week, but we can get them later.
Seth: Okay, I'll just come home then.
Me: That would be good. This hasn't been a great morning, what with whiny boy and all. He got mad at me for giving him strawberries with his pancakes. Ellie, SIT DOWN! Sorry honey. How'd things go this morning?
Seth: Fine. It was pretty uneventful actually –
Me: Get the strawberry out of your nose!
Seth: [laughing]
Me: Sam! No pancakes in your hair! I am not washing your hair today!
Seth: [still laughing]
Me: Yes, very funny.
Seth: It is!
Me: I am so blogging this.
Seth: You should!
Me: Yes, Ellie, that's Ellie's nose. Good job, Abby, that's Abby's nose! What's your ETA?
Seth: About 15-20 minutes. I'll be home soon. Did you remember to change J's weekly patch?
Me: No, I didn't have any whole ones upstairs, but I'll do it when I go downstairs again. Abby, do you need a new diaper? Yuck! Hasn't mommy changed enough diapers today?
Seth: Sorry, sweetie.
Me: It's okay. I'll see you soon. Wanna say hi to Abby?

And on and on…

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Yep.  I’m being treated as a non-PCO patient now.  Go figure.  Turns out my e2 level wasn’t 439, but it was high.  They like to see it under 50 at the Lupron Evaluation and mine was 93.  That’s three cycles in a row of elevated e2 at the LE.  Sigh.  So much for my Coke theory – I haven’t had a drop this cycle.  Now I’m going to drink one with wild abandon, darnit.  Starting now (or as soon as I finish this post).

 

Righteo.

 

Anyway, SuperDoc also noted that since I’m not acting all PCO and my reaction to the stims so far has been lackluster, we’re going to treat me as a non-PCO patient and see where that gets me.  SO, tonight I take 300 units Follistim & 75 of Luveris.  Tomorrow morning I drop my Lupron down to FIVE measely units (rock ON!). 

Return to the office for monitoring on Sunday as planned.

 

Game on!

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Yesterday turned out to be the “real” CD1, so I was able to go in for my LE today, as planned.  SuperDoc walked in, and I (ever the optimist), quipped, “You know, I think you should just cancel me now and save yourself a lot of time and trouble.”

 

“Well, you know, it all depends on your ovaries.  Are they going to cooperate today?”
“How should I know?  I don’t know anything about ovaries, you’re the one who went to medical school, after all.  You’re the one who should know something about ovaries.”

“I may know something about ovaries, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about your fickle ovaries.”

 

Hey, now.  Don’t go insulting my ovaries – they’re sensitive souls, you know!  Why, isn’t it bad enough that SuperDoc called them “goldilocks ovaries” last month?  They may just have overheard that remark and if they did… well, the backlash might not be pretty. 

 

SuperDoc peered at the ultrasound image of my left ovary – “Well that one looks fine…  and the right ovary… also looks good.  The thing is, your ovaries haven’t been acting PCO anymore.  I think that’s what’s been going on.”

 

“I’m cured!  The triplet pregnancy cured me!  It must have scared the heck out of those overly-perky ovaries and taught them a lesson!”

 

SuperDoc grumbled something incomprehensible, but the gerbil in my head was running furiously in his exercise wheel.  No, really.  This theory had some merit.  After all, I pointed out, I lost a ton of weight during and after my pregnancy. 

 

“How much weight did you lose?”
“About 50 pounds.”

“That is impressive.”

 

[to be fair, I actually lost 70, but I gained back 20… but I wasn’t about to admit that then and there]

 

SuperDoc continued to make non-commital grumbly noises, while looking through my chart on the computer.  He said we should be good to go with 75 units of Luveris and 225 units of Follistim starting tonight and we’ll see how these finicky ovaries of mine respond this time.   What happened to not insulting my ovaries within their hearing range?  Clearly he doesn’t understand their sensitive nature.  I’m back on Sunday for monitoring, bright and early.  Yee-haw!

 

“That is, unless my e2 comes back at 437 today.  Then I’m just a puzzle.”
“I don’t foresee that happening.  But you’re right; with you, we just never know.”

 

Yeah.  I’m all kinds of fun.  I think doctors must love puzzles though.  Wouldn’t it be boring if all cases were totally straight forward?  If they prescribed the same course of action for every patient, why, their jobs would be positively dull!  What would be the point of medical school, residency, fellowship and all the associated torture that goes along with those things?  I think doctors live for the “interesting” patients.  It’s the patients themselves that long to be “boring.”  “Interesting” is a distinction I could live without.  “Puzzle” is another.

 

But back to this cure.  I’m actually becoming more convinced of it the more I think about it.  Seriously!  One of the most common things that PCOS patients are told when they are diagnosed (if they are overweight) is that if they lose weight they may find a reduction, or even elimination of symptoms.  I lost 50 pounds fairly rapidly.  After I delivered my babies, I started getting regular periods, even while nursing three babies.  Every single month for thirteen months, I got a period.  For the first time in my life, I could predict exactly when my period would arrive with near to-the-minute accuracy. 

 

From my first ultrasound back at Ye Olde Fertility Clinic, I noticed that I didn’t have 30 follicles per ovary anymore in my antral follicle count.  In fact, I worried I was over-suppressed on the Lupron.  Further, I haven’t responded to the Follistim with my usual ridiculous overabundance of follicles – rather, I have produced lead follicles, something I was never capable of doing with my IUI cycles and something which is undesirable in an IVF cycle.  I attributed this to the Lupron, but even on a reduced dose of Lupron, and somewhat increased dose of Follistim …  no dice. 

 

The pieces all fit.  My infertility may not have been cured, but the PCOS?  Is she still alive and kicking?

 

I need a double blind controlled study.  So all you PCOS patients out there – how about you sign up for a triplet pregnancy and see if your PCOS is cured, okay?

 

Get right on that, won’t you?

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Yee Haw!

It’s 1:59pm.  Do you know what that means?  Yep, that’s right; it means I have a raging headache.    I emailed my nurse last week to let her know that I’d started Lupron again and that I had the headaches to prove it.  “Don’t forget the headaches are not my fault,” she wrote back.  Not to worry, I take the headaches as a good sign.  Maybe this time my estrogen levels are not through the roof.  Maybe?   Hopefully? 

 

Am I just allowing my hopes to get up too high again?  Will the fall from hope be as devastating as before?

 

I just did an interview about my experience with infertility and with Ye Olde Fertility Clinic and I was asked about the rollercoaster of emotions that I had to go through to get to success the first time around – that emotional rollercoaster was huge.  Failure after failure after failure then pregnancy, but miscarriage, another failure, and a pregnancy that I couldn’t be happy about for a long time because I just had no reason to believe it wasn’t doomed to failure. 

 

You’d think that rollercoaster would have prepared me for the ups and downs of this experience the second time around – but…  there’s really no comparison.  I guess the first time around I really had no reason to believe it would work, but this time… I never had reason to think the big guns would fail, but I’ve found three different ways to fail so far.  Will I find a fourth?

 

I never wanted to be this creative.

 

But the headaches.  They’re a good sign, right?  And I’ll be using a lot more Follistim this cycle.  You know, if I get that far.  And… it’s different this time.  Right?  Third time’s a charm and all that?

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Yeowch!

Okay, seriously.  I am taking a little blue pill every single night.  I am very, very compliant.  I have not forgotten the stupid blue pill even once.  This stupid little blue pill should be very carefully regulating my menstrual cycle.  I should, therefore, not be expecting my period for at least… I don’t know… but not for a while. 

 

So why do I feel so horrifyingly crampy and awful and witchy?

Really.  This is uncool.

 

Anywhozit… there’s another week or so until the Lupron doomsdays.  Rockin’.

 

Should be a grand ol’ time, right?

 

Meanwhile, I was asked to do a very interesting little marketing thing for YOFC.  I can’t ever say no to J, Marketing Supervisor Extraordinaire, even though he refuses to commit to another nifty mobile.  I wonder what kind of cookies I should bring him this time.  I have a lovely recipe for Lemon Snowbars, but I’m not sure they travel well…

 

Hrm.

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Not So Bad

You know, cancelling the cycle was probably for the best.  I mean, I didn’t want to be really pregnant in the middle of summer anyway, right?  My new schedule puts my transfer in the second week a June – a lifetime away. 

So much can go wrong between now and then.

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And… Cancelled

Cycle cancelled.

More details to follow later?  Maybe? 

 

The last days of Pesach start tonight so I’ll be offline for a couple days.

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