anxiety, family, fertility, IVF, outdoors, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

thankyouthankyouthankyou

Sitting in the blazing sun in Justin Herman Plaza, I looked up into the blue sky and said, “please.” I had only the tiniest flicker of hope.

Then I listened to Olga’s voicemail which was already 40 minutes old.

“K! it’s Olga! I have great, great, great news for you! You are pregnant! Congratulations! Your number is 998 so that’s a fantastic number, we like to see a number of 100 and above so you are right right right on target. Congratulations, so happy for you! I can’t wait to tell Dr. Tran.”

And then I had to listen to it 3 times before I believed it was real.

And then I hyperventilated and cried and speed dialed my family. And then I called Olga back to see if that means twins. She said it’s a “definite possibility” but also could be a singleton. She said that she and Dr. T. high-fived when she told him the news.

And then I celebrated with a grilled cheese sandwich and smiles.

We are off to a good start and have already cleared many initial hurdles. An unexpected miracle!

Amazing how my reaction never changes; even after all I’ve been through I am 110% excited.

One day at a time, and so much gratitude for this day and all the love around me. xoxoxo

anxiety, dating, fertility, IVF, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

laundromat

Here I am doing laundry at a coin-op laundromat flashing back to laundromats of my past such as in Paris after college which is probably the last time I didn’t have laundry in the building. No, wait–I didn’t have laundry in the Mission but by then I was a wash ‘n fold connoisseur. I may find myself going back to wash ‘n fold but for today I needed the clean laundry pronto and plus am trying to save money. Ironically, when I lived in NYC in the tiniest studio of my life, I had a stacked washer/dryer in the closet which makes me cry with longing when I think of it. This honestly isn’t so bad though (especially with a car)…it gives me time to blog (free wi-fi!) and I’m even sitting on a bench in the sunshine.

I was a little nervous going into the weekend because I reserved the whole thing for unpacking and yet knew viscerally that I needed bigger distractions as I near my test date. I posted on Craig’s List that I’d have free boxes and packing paper available on Sunday which gave me a deadline to get out of boxes, or at least most of them. I woke up and read a story from my Dear Sugar compilation (Tiny Beautiful Things, highly recommend) about how Sugar went to a yard sale at 22 with her mom and noticed a sweet little red velvet dress for a toddler. She found herself wanting it, inexplicably, since she didn’t even know if she wanted kids. Her mom offered to get it for her (it was $1) and told her to put it in a box for later. Three years later, Sugar’s mom died. Ten years after that, Sugar had a baby girl. She found the box with the dress and thought, my mom bought this dress for the granddaughter she’ll never know. Then, seeing her daughter wearing it on her second Christmas, Sugar thought, my daughter is wearing the dress that her grandmother bought her at a yard sale. It was about the meaning of things, and how the meaning changes over time. This made me cry for 20 minutes.

Then, driving over to my old place to meet the piano movers, I heard the song that goes don’t you worry, don’t you worry child. See heaven’s got a plan for you and I burst into tears again. All of this to tell you that I’m hormonal and there is a lot of change to process, the end of an era, the beginning of a new one, and not knowing yet if this try worked or not.

I was just talking to my sister about how I don’t deal well with unstructured time. I spent the rest of the day maniacally unpacking, not stopping for food or water or fresh air, just unpacking my ass off and reading old journals as I set them on the bookshelf, remembering such heartbreaks as my camp counselor B (forbidden), my on-the-fence-about-kids ex-boyfriend N, and my on-the-fence-about-me ex-not-quite-boyfriend M, remembering my dating patterns in three quick dips into my past. And here I am at 40, unattached and on my 11th try to get pregnant, um, remind me–how did this all happen again?! Or not happen? At 10pm I fell into bed with The West Wing and had work stress dreams all night.

(Meanwhile, the place is looking great.)

FET#2 has been the opposite of FET#1. For #1, by this time I was almost cocky, eating for two, etc. Everything throughout the two week wait revolved around the two week wait. I was sleeping and eating perfectly. I had relatively low stress.

This time, not so much. I’ve been stressed, exhausted, and distracted. No routine since the move. I feel nothing much. Whenever I’m hungry, I’m just hungry. When I’m tired, I’m just tired. And when I’m weepy, I am certainly hormonal, likely from the estrogen patches and the progesterone shots. And just because this time is opposite still doesn’t mean it will work.

Driving over here, that Pink song “Try, Try, Try” came on the radio as the sun broke through the fog. My fiercest hope is that I can think of this try in the context of the bigger picture–that it’s all part of one unpredictable and ongoing story as I pursue an ordinary dream, that my babies could be these ones or the next ones or ones after that and this whole long period of trying will have great significance in ways we cannot yet imagine. The meaning has yet to be revealed.

The meaning for today is: the two week wait is not for sissies.

And with that, I will take my warm laundry home. Love to you all.

anxiety, fertility, IVF, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait, writing

transfer and transition

Hi! I have thought of you often, readers, and how it probably seemed strange that I didn’t post after my transfer. Alas, I am still thumbing it on my phone; the internet self-installation didn’t work, the technician who came today couldn’t get a signal, and they’re supposedly sending someone to the actual telephone pole to fix it tomorrow…I’ve been hanging at the (24hour!) Starbucks around the corner but using the time for work. So it’s time to tap out a slow post in a constant battle with auocorrect in order to send you an update.

The transfer went perfectly. My sister arrived to pick me up and a moment later the doorbell rang again and it was a dozen roses from dear friends M and T. Just then, the valium kicked in and we coasted over to UCSF where we already knew the drill.

We ran into my genetic counselor whose last day in that department was the next day and she hugged me and emphatically promised that I WOULD get pregnant this time and it WOULDN’T be twins. She totally TOTALLY promises.

B didn’t come into the room with me this time because she had a cold. Everything about this try feels laid back, it’s all good, no superstitions or good luck charms or anxiety. Just taking the steps. B worked on her laptop in the waiting area.

Dr. Z was great, Nurse Angela kept rubbing my arm and telling me I was perfect. I was warm and stoned. They gave me this photo of embies #2 and #3 and said they are beautiful, textbook, and survived the thaw with flying colors. Here they are:

image

I love those punks!

When Dr Z said, “Think good thoughts,” it felt like my very first try, when what’s her name said the same thing and I was filled with love. We watched on the monitor as a little drop of fluid containing the potential for two future humans was dropped off in my uterus. And that was that.

Oh: they redid my paperwork so it wouldn’t include the genders but we can safely assume it was two boys, two girls, or a boy and a girl.

On the way out of the dressing room, I ran into Dr. Tran! Wait, what? He was even in scrubs so why he didn’t do my transfer I will never know. He also rubbed my arm and wished me luck and looked handsome as per usual and was a generally good omen. Then I went to acupuncture which I slept through entirely, and came home and went to bed at 6.

Since then, I have been wildly distracted by work, unpacking, a wedding, and did I mention unpacking? The kitchen is done, I still have to unpack clothes, books, and the bathroom. I forget about being PUPO for hours at a time. This may change, but for now it’s good. Hoping it holds as long as possible, 10 days to go.

I joined the JCC! They have an amazing gym near my house! All the SMCs are doing it because they have 100+ classes (cuban dance! kickboxing! yoga! swimming!) and child care.

I am floating along, loving all the changes. Amazing how the universe plucked me up and dropped me here.

image

family, fertility, IVF, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

tomorrow

I am sitting in my beautiful new apartment surrounded by boxes, tapping this out on my phone. The internet will get hooked up tomorrow. The move went perfectly and you are all invited over because I have space for you now, a whole room for you even. I want this to be a gathering place for friends and family, I mean it.

I am exhausted. Haven’t caught up with myself since moving on Sunday and going into a busy work week with plans every evening. I had a conference call at 6 this morning so I really should head to bed. In my new bedroom which has a door, which I shut, because I can.

Tomorrow is transfer day. My sister will come by at noon to drive me over. Time to meet embies #2 and #3, at long last. Thanks for sending lots of love to them in the next 36 hours.

More when I’m not tapping with thumbs and half asleep zzzzz

dating, fertility, IVF, outdoors, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

my 40s

My 40s have been stellar. I’m sleepy but must force myself to blog this before any other big news can pile up:

  • I flew home late Friday night, returning to my cute little studio whose days with me are now numbered. The number is 4.
  • On Saturday, I dropped by my new apartment which was left in beautiful condition by the former tenant, with a big note on the blackboard that said, “Welcome Home, K!!!”
  • I got my hair cut–Nicholas, superhumanly handsome and not my usual stylist, insisted on blowing my hair straight (“They ALWAYS see your hair curly, right?”), and also insisted that I come back at 4:15 with my own makeup so he could do my eyes for my birthday. Then I got a pedicure with B and her sweet new bundle S.
  • I tried to nap but I was too excited about my party. I ended up drinking coffee to fight the jet lag.
  • Arriving in the restaurant, I found one friend sitting with her glass of wine, plus one gorgeous floral centerpiece sent by my thoughtful boss in NYC.¬†
  • More friends started to flow in and my heart was overflowing with joy. Flowers, champagne, cards, hugs, love.
  • I was so happy. I could have floated around that party forever. I have the most wonderful and thoughtful and hilarious friends, many of whom I’ve known for 20+ years, some less than two months, and they have all been my raft in turbulent waters at one time or another.
  • The food was delicious and we flowed from one course to the next, wine topped off at frequent intervals, the lighting in a soft glow against the brick walls, lots of laughter. These moments are so fleeting and the wine makes them slippery… and before you know it, the party’s over.
  • And then you head to the after party with about 10 friends and drink bourbon until 4:30am and then you’re pretty much so far gone between the joy and the drinks and the time difference and the four decades, you’re maybe hung over for 3-4 days.
  • The next day should have been rougher but I navigated through a lovely baby shower and a birthday party and went to see The Way Way Back with the birthday girl.
  • On Monday, I showed up at my new office on Sacramento Street. One block from my first office in SF when I moved here in 1997, I walk by Starbucks knowing that’s not what was in that space 15 years ago, but not remembering what was there before. Isn’t this the very definition of getting older? I have a window facing south and was delighted when the sunlight found my desk and moved along it for much of the day.
  • At mid-day, my new landlord showed up with the lease, and we sat on a bench in my new lobby and chatted a bit after signing it. I expressed how thrilled I am about this apartment and he seemed genuinely glad. He truly either doesn’t realize or doesn’t care about how much more he could have gotten for that place, and I am his lucky lucky lucky lucky tenant who happened to be in the right place at the right time.
  • Later, I called my building manager to give notice and he completely blew my mind when he told me the price he will ask for my current, 400 square foot studio.
  • The universe is sending me a love note.
  • I went on a third date. He’s easygoing, has a nice smile, is older. We’ve gone on a couple of hikes, to the farmer’s market, to dinner. With everything going on, I enjoy hanging out with him and yet there’s no real momentum or wondering what will happen next.
  • Today, I lined up packers to pack my apartment on Saturday (yes, I am paying the $ to keep stress low) and a mover on Sunday.
  • I went to UCSF for my lining check this afternoon. (I saw Dr. Tran in scrubs from a distance–he didn’t see me.)¬†Good news at the appointment: 7.8mm lining, great, and all quiet on the ovarian front (no cysts). I was cleared for transfer next week: Thursday, 8/15.
  • Did I mention: gratitude.
  • I was texting with my friend M in Mexico City tonight, and she said that my new place is “like feng shui. But for your whole life.”
  • I believe it.my new apartment