Category: IUI

biological clock, dating, fertility, IUI, ovulation, parenthood, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

on the eve

thesolomamaproject

It’s that one night a year in San Francisco when I wish I had a fan. The whole city is officially Way Too Hot, and we don’t deal at all well with this. Our tolerable temperature range is anything between 60 and 70 degrees, and that’s about it. On the street outside, people are stumbling around in confusion–it’s simply shocking to not need a sweater. I’m sweating and eating ice cream up in my stuffy apartment, hoping for a breeze through the open window.

Can I just say how grateful I am that my cycle has kicked back in like motherfucking clockwork on Day 15? Smiley-face today. I called Olga, and I go in tomorrow for IUI #5. At 11:15am PST, in case you want to say a little prayer for my good egg.

I had the perfect evening to mark the end of my TTC hiatus, including sushi and beer and catching up with a dear old friend with whom I hadn’t caught up in many months, so I didn’t even know she was having fertility dilemmas of her own. I knew I’d be telling her my story, and my story was that much more relevant since it resonated. Her story made me remember my own long and difficult road to the big decision, what a process it was; whereas now it’s such a solid fact that I could hang my hat on it. I savored her questions and hoped she’d read the blog.

It got me reconnected a little to retell it. Mostly, I’ve felt like “my head’s not in the game.” I had to set my alarm in Outlook to remember not to pee, and again to remember to pee four hours later, on the stick.

It was kind of a rough weekend. The Moroccan chose a weekend in Santa Cruz over our coffee date–touché. I decided to “quickly” sign up on match.com, forgetting the existential process of creating an online dating profile (an hour later, I had a screen name). Also: I discovered that I had forgotten my car in a downtown lot for 4 days ($160), tripped on a curb and fell on the sidewalk in front of an uncaring crowd, and worked alllll day on a Saturday. Wah.

Predictably, when I finally got myself to run from the Beach Chalet up past the Cliff House to Lands End, all the way up that staircase, all the way down the other side to Sea Cliff and all the way back, I felt fine again. Can I please remember from now on that I always always always feel better after a run?

Today is Monday but I’m drunk on two beers and contemplating my remaining hours of peace.before the two week wait. I don’t know how I feel really… still a little disconnected, and I hope that turns out to be a good thing when the crazy train pulls up a week from now. I keep finding myself listing out my trifecta of goals: to be promoted, to find a guy I like, and to get (and stay) pregnant. I’m trying my best in all three categories, and my new mantra is: SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN.

Stopping in the corner store tonight for ice cream, I came upon a dad and his 4-year-old picking out ice cream flavors. The dad was reading them out and the kid bursts out with, “VANILLA!” like it’s absolutely the most exciting flavor ever created. His dad handed him a pint, which he carefully put into the basket of his bicycle with training wheels while his dad went to pick out a bottle of wine. Then, the little boy walked up to the cat sitting on the check-out counter and said to him quietly and meaningfully, “So, how’s your night going?”

My heart swelled as I remembered why I’m doing this.

dating, donor sperm, IUI, pregnancy loss, privacy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

more guys

thesolomamaproject

I’m in a t-shirt and yoga pants, listening to Aimee Mann’s new album (kick A), baking lasagna and peach cobbler for my long overdue rendez-vous tomorrow night with Ju and her three munchkins. I hear the littlest one is a cuddler.

The big headline in neon lights is that AF is back in force! After so many weeks of spotting, I had no idea when to expect her, and didn’t really think it would be so soon. I also didn’t know if I’d recognize her, or if she’d make a weak appearance and give me reason to doubt the true kick-off of a new cycle. I should not have second-guessed her. She reappeared like clockwork and set up house. I asked her if she wanted to guest blog and she glared at me, rolled her eyes, and went back to folding laundry.

Still–her arrival, oddly enough, put me in the best mood. It’s the end of a sad era and the beginning of a hopeful one and I’m out of limbo and back on cycle and I decided to get back into official trying mode this month.

I transported my latest guys from PRS to UCSF on Monday morning–a much different transport than the first time around (My Guys) where it was sunny and I was singing along to the radio and thinking about babies. This time it was foggy, I was listening to an audiobook about finances, and never once thought about babies until afterward when I remembered that both vials on the first transport got me pregnant, which gave me a burst of hope. This transport was three vials. Did I ever tell you that the SMC ladies call them “Pop-sicles”? I sort of can’t believe I’m getting back on this roller coaster.

This morning, I attended a networking event in which one of the panelists seemed to be speaking directly to me about my blog and my recent fears around the security breach and what would happen if everyone knew and was talking about this. The panelist said something along the lines of: “Speak your truth, and then stand behind it. As long as you say it with confidence and good intentions, it will never come back to haunt you, even if people find out who weren’t supposed to know.” I believe in this. This blog is my truth and my lifeline and I can’t tell you how reinforcing it is how many readers tell me, “keep writing!” “keep writing!”

I’m glad you enjoyed reading about the paramedic (with the exception of my dad who said it was a little more than he needed to know, understandable). This one is anti-climactic but I went on a date with a new guy on Friday night. I’ve been trying to find a nickname for him but am coming up empty-handed, mostly because I don’t care and he won’t be sticking around. But it was kind of strange–as you know from my last post, I wasn’t that excited to meet him beforehand. I started telling my friend M about him with, “Well, there’s nothing wrong with him.” which she took as not a good sign. He showed up, was good-looking, tall, polite, smiling, bought me dinner, and we had the most enjoyable conversation. There was actually a moment where we both threw our heads back and laughed and I thought–this is nicer than I thought it would be. We have a lot in common. After dinner we went to another place for milkshakes. Then I hugged him good night and heard myself say, “It was nice meeting you!” which in retrospect is not a super encouraging thing to say, or maybe it was my tone, or maybe I was thinking, “It was nice to have met you!” I went home and never thought about him again. Apparently the same for him as there’s been no communication. No spark! And no nickname.

The Adorable Disaster of many months ago inexplicably re-friended me on facebook one day last week. I can’t imagine what he’s up to beyond a game of passive-aggression and I will not be enticed into that game. I’m pretty sure he passed me on his bike while I was running through the park last week–our eyes locked for a split second and he was gone. Ignore.

On the bright side, I have a date on Saturday and I’m cautiously excited about it. This is The Artist. I think I’m excited because I know next to nothing about him and probably have filled in all the blanks in my mind. But we did trade websites (his art and my music) and admired each other’s work. He seems like a legit real artist who does paintings, sketches, fire arts, book arts, and also teaches and takes graduate classes. His students like him on Rate My Professor.

I should not blog and bake at the same time because I just scorched the top of the cobbler. Ah well… good thing I had leftover peaches and batter, I’ll make another one. Good night!

donor sperm, IUI, outdoors, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

!!!!!

thesolomamaproject

I woke up this morning at 5:30am, at first light, thinking ummmmmm do I want to test? Because I need to pee. Box says 99% accuracy on day of expected period. False negative is unlikely. I’ll want a day up here to process the result. I am or I’m not–the test just exposes the truth. Time to test. Just do it.

Heart pounding, hands shaking, peed on a stick.

Pregnant!!! (again!)

Image

I looked in the mirror at my pregnant self and smiled and said, “I knew it!” Because I did. Pretty much the whole two weeks, from the IUI lightning bolt onward. But since it’s hard to know what you know in this process, I didn’t want to say anything until now. Now I have the home test BFP and will feel more reassured when I cross the 5-day hurdle (which is far as I got last month), the likely day of my blood test (Monday), and even more reassured with each passing day. This is a tenuous time, as you and I already know all too well.

I had foolishly thought I could go back to sleep, but no such luck! I got up and had cereal, made coffee, and sat on the beach in the sunrise, feeling grateful.

When I went in, it was still very early. I could hear that someone was showering. I waited in the kitchen with my stick, ready to spring the good news on my parents. Imagine my surprise when my dad walked out buck naked! He froze in place when he saw me and said, OH! Well, maybe I’ll go put some clothes on! A good laugh in what was building to be a big moment. When he went back into the bedroom, I heard my mom say, “Did she pee on a stick?”

They came out, I told them the good news, they hugged me, and then we all were wide-eyed like, OK! One step at a time! And then we went about our biz. (Pretty much. My mom and I indulged a bit in re-looking at my donor’s photos, discussing first trimester symptoms, and watching an animated video of implantation. Have you guys seen that video? Fascinating. Here’s the link.)

I keep checking the stick to make sure a “Not” hasn’t shown up. So far, so good. 🙂

I feel happy and cautious and happy again. One less exclamation point in the title of this post compared to last time. Focusing on reducing stress, resting, eating well. Tomorrow I’ll go downstate to see Mrs. John and her family, including her brand-new 2mo baby boy. More baby time can only help!

Thank you for sending vibes of good health and gangbusters cell division! I love you all for being there.

biological clock, IUI, outdoors, parenthood, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

vacation

thesolomamaproject

OK, that was a bit of a hiatus now that I’m on vacation–needed a break from the computer. At this moment, I am on the balcony of my parents’ place in northern MI and, even as we speak, I’m being summoned to paddleboard with my dad or take my niece to the beach, so much to do up here at the peak of summertime. But I’m taking a little time to write. I’m looking out at a placid Lake Michigan, one solo obnoxious boat breaking up the peaceful morning and buzzing around like a mosquito, a hazy sky and golden morning sunlight from behind me. A cool breeze. I dream of this balcony when I’m away.

Picking up where my last post left off. The evening of my IUI, I went over to the East Bay to have dinner with my friend C. Four years ago, we met on a Yosemite trip as part of a big hiking group, and I learned that this was her “last hurrah” before starting to try to get pregnant on her own. Although this was four years ago, I was already starting to have inklings that I may not find the right babydaddy in time, as I was then dating a guy not that seriously because I knew he didn’t want kids. At a party a month after the trip, I got a bigger download from C on the experience–she had gone through one round of trying and had just found out it didn’t work. She told me all about the national organization Single Mothers by Choice, the actual nitty-gritty process of getting oneself knocked up, and the onslaught of emotions following one failed attempt. I was fascinated and taking mental notes.

After that party, C’s journey suddenly went in a wildly different direction when she started dating the guy whose party it was, and after a few months they decided to get pregnant together. And they did get pregnant (on the first try), and had a baby girl. We fell out of touch after a little while.

About a month ago, I felt compelled to reach out to her to let her know what a big influence her experience had on me. Once I was ready to become an SMC last fall, I knew exactly where to go. She wrote back to tell me that my timing was coincidental as she and her baby’s father had just decided to separate (super amicably and gradually) and she was preparing to be a single mom after all. We started making plans to get together–lots to catch up.

Mere hours after my IUI last week, I headed over to the East Bay, and was greeted at the door by pretty little two-and-a-half-year-old S, who promptly looked up at me with wonder and said in two-year-old-speak, “You’re an angel!” I blinked and asked her to repeat that, and she said, “You’re an ANGEL!” Then she insisted that I take off my boots and join her on the couch for some jumping. According to her parents, this was not her usual drill with new friends, and I was honored.

Of course, I took this to be a cosmic sign. It was wonderful to catch up with C, to hear her whole story of pregnancy and birth and her overwhelming love for her girl. She offered to be a resource and support and I am excited to be back in touch.

The next two days I spent frantically preparing for the trip (mostly wrapping up work), got up at the crack of dawn on Sunday to fly 4.5 hours to Detroit then drive 5 hours up here. I’ve spent much of the past two days sleeping–sleeping in, naps, other naps. Decompressing. You just don’t know how much compression is in there until you let it out.

The big highlights here are my nieces, who are both nonstop cute and fun and fascinating: E is turning 4 and S is 9 months. E has taken to calling me “KK” (I’ve graduated from “Tata Hot,” which she called me as a baby), and her grandpa is now “Chatmo,” for reasons only she understands. S will look up at you and bestow a smile that is like the sun bursting out from behind the clouds. They are a blessing. Of course, it’s wonderful to be with my parents and sister and bro-in-law too. 🙂

Yesterday, I went running on the new Sleeping Bear Heritage Trail that recently opened up and is a big deal around here. It goes from Glen Arbor through the National Lakeshore land to Glen Haven and all the way to the Dune Climb. Chatmo was my SAG Team (Supplies and Gear) with water and snacks in his pack. I did 8 miles at a mellow pace, and we sailed along through the old-growth trees in the leafy shade and at one point a big deer bounded in front of us on the trail. She stopped and looked behind her and then took off again, followed by a dramatically prancing fawn.

I am 7dpo (days past ovulation) and calmly transitioning into the final week of the wait. I feel calm, surrounded by support (including my parents’ downstairs neighbors the W’s, my cheerleading squad), and that it’s just a matter of time.

Image

Happy 4th!

donor sperm, IUI, ovulation, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

23 million

thesolomamaproject

Go, swimmers, go!

I got my smiley-face yesterday afternoon: sigh of relief. Called Olga. Fortunately, I don’t seem to have lingering angry feelings toward her. We’ve moved on. She cheerfully set up my appointment for 1:15 today, just 45 minutes after my IUI last month. I’ve duplicated every detail of last month to the best of my ability.

Today, I left work around 12:15. I thought about rushing home to get Mojo, but decided nah–Mojo is with me in my heart. I needed to grab lunch.

I had chicken pho and limonata Pelligrino at My Father’s Kitchen, a Vietnamese restaurant near UCSF. I wondered whether Dr. Tran goes there for lunch, and if so whether it reminds him of his father’s (or mother’s) kitchen back in Vietnam. As I was finishing, I thought I saw him walk in, in scrubs. My mind raced: what if it’s him? What if it’s not him? Am I thinking all Vietnamese doctors look alike? He was seated right behind me. After studying the back of his head as I got up to leave, I decided that my Dr. Tran didn’t have a bald spot and wasn’t that short and didn’t wear scrubs and wouldn’t slurp his soup like that. Still, it seemed like a good sign in a moment when I was looking for signs.

Then I sat in the waiting room enjoying my last moments of peace before the two week wait.

After being called into the exam room, I had some more time to think. This time, I thought, I’m going to focus on reducing stress in all respects, every day. Which is a good goal no matter what you’re trying to do in life, no?

Same drill on this fourth round IUI–the nurse practitioner was Dr. J and she was nice and ultra-efficient. We reviewed McPiercy’s donor number, total motile (rhymes!): 23 million, and overall motility “moving fast / hyperactivated.” I am not kidding you: from speculum to “great ovulation mucus, so bonus on the timing!” to “the sample is going in” to “take care!” was probably 3.5 minutes.

She left me in the room for 5-10 minutes to relax, and I thought, “I love you, baby.” I felt a symbolic lightning bolt strike down from the heavens.

And then, I went about my biz.

I’ve done a lot of thinking since my “heroine” post in which everyone was expecting details of my new drug addiction, ostensibly the latest method for handling the stress of trying to conceive. (Yes, the “e” in “heroine” is critical!) I was trying to put a positive spin on what was otherwise a somber post. First conclusion: when it came down to it, I really needed sleep. I slept 9 hours and the next morning felt like a million bucks.

Second, it’s OK to sometimes feel low. When I’m in that mode, I tend to focus on the things I’m missing in life, even while there is a huge abundance of wonderfulness staring me in the face. I read a good quote yesterday in someone’s email signature that said, “Pessimists see the difficulty in opportunity while optimists see the opportunity in difficulty.” Right on.

Third, the universe has sent me quite a flurry of evidence in the last 24 hours that I do, in fact, attract the attention of men. The universe also sent a PS that these men, while they do exist, are just wildly and hilariously inappropriate matches for me right now. These include the guy on the 38 Geary bus who introduced himself as a veteran in his 50s who finds me “very sweet,” the handyman in the line outside Kelly-Moore who started singing a song precisely as I walked by that began with “bonita,” and a guy who emailed me on OK Cupid to suggest that we meet for coffee followed by a “purely lighthearted best-of-five wrestle.” You know I’m not making this stuff up!

The fact is, there’s only one man in my life right now: McPiercy. He’s hot. He gives me my space. He provides me with millions of fast-moving sperm and lets me have my way 100% of the time. AND he’s helping me pursue my biggest life goal. I’ll tell you all about him once he knocks me up (again).

Meanwhile, I’ll be over here relaxing like crazy.

 

IUI, outdoors, pregnancy loss, privacy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait, writing

validation

thesolomamaproject

I saw Dr. Tran on Wednesday, and I love him. I’m definitely noticing a falling-in-love trend with every male doctor I encounter in this process (is it ethical to date the guy who draws your blood? who causes you pain during a procedure? who gets you pregnant?). But Dr. T. has my heart for real.

He invited me into his office and I said, “I’m seeing you at 4pm and last time I saw you at 7am–you must work long days,” and he said, “Yes, I typically work from 7 until about 6, but I love what I do, so I can’t complain.” Aw.

At first, he assumed that I was there to talk about interventions (i.e. meds) but I quickly realized that Olga had conveyed to him exactly nothing about my recent experience. Which didn’t surprise me, since she acted like it never happened. On the bright side, I got to tell him myself, including the part about how Olga let me know over the phone (“I just can’t figure out how you got two positive tests. Was the test expired?”).

He turned his monitor toward me and asked me to show him on the calendar the day of my IUI, followed by the days of the positive pregnancy tests. He said, “OK, yes. You were pregnant. It’s what we call a “biochemical pregnancy.” He compassionately acknowledged the emotional side of what I had just gone through, and said, “But from a medical point of view, I take this as very good news. You don’t have fertility issues. Everything works!”

He even said he would make a gentle suggestion to Olga about how to approach this type of situation. (i.e. in Me vs. Olga, I won.)

I realized that the whole reason I set up the appointment was to hear him say all of the above. And he said it! More than once! I said, “You can say it again, if you want!” (PS do you want to get coffee after this?)

In a nutshell, since everything is working, it’s probably just a matter of time. No need to introduce hormones or trigger shot or ultrasounds for now. He said that if he were in my shoes, he would give it a total of 6 unmedicated tries. I told him about Rio at the end of August, and how that seems to be a natural turning point, after 5 tries (so: 2 more). At that point, if nothing’s happening, I can Rio-valuate.

I practically skipped out of there. It makes me realize how important it is to feel validated. I couldn’t really get through this until I knew for sure that it happened.

Validation is so important in this process. I feel its importance both when I’m talking to women who are down about another BFN (big fat negative) or going crazy in the 2 week wait, and I try to say things to cheer them up–but sometimes I’m missing that they just need someone to listen, to hear them right where they are. I feel it when people say to me, “Can you just be more laid back–put it out of your mind, go about your biz, pretend it’s not happening? The stress can’t be helping…” and it’s like UM, SURE I’d love to do that. Can you tell me how? Because, as much as it really is a great idea, I am incapable right now of just Being Less Stressed. Where I’m at is: losing my mind to hope and fear and joy and disappointment. I know it’s uncomfortable, but…can you meet me there?

I’ve also been giving a lot of thought to the blog and the public play by play. Because it’s all about me, total self-absorption, and that’s not how I live my life–I would write about all of you if I thought I could get away with it! The way I see it, this would all be going on in my head, only in a more chaotic, messy format, so the fact of keeping a blog is not influencing how excited or sad or freaked out I get. The blog helps me get it out of my head (which is positive) and helps me rally support around me (which I need). So, it’s win-win for me. Sometimes, though, I feel sorry for you, dear readers, dragged along on all my ups and downs. But, I won’t apologize… It takes two to tango: I’m not forcing your eyeballs onto these words. 😉

Thanks for being here. It’s messy, huh?

Finishing up my work day and heading home to pack for Girl Weekend in Sebastopol. Could this be any better timed? On the agenda, we have a hot tub, canoeing, a rodeo, yummy food, margaritas, yoga, stars, and five amazing ladies. Thumbs up!

donor sperm, IUI, ovulation, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

8 million

thesolomamaproject

On Friday afternoon, in the midst of a hive breakout barely held at bay by Benadryl, I got a positive OPK after being super-religious about not peeing for 4 hours! I even had the coveted EWCM that day AND the next day, something I was never able to detect previously. Although the positive kit did take me somewhat by surprise a few days early, I was thrilled to prove the genuine falsehood of the earlier false positive and put the wheels in motion for IUI #3.

I called in my positive result to Nurse Olga, who congratulated me 🙂 and scheduled my IUI for 12:30 on Saturday. She also said that her hunch about the hives was that I was having an allergic reaction to the dye of the HSG test. After our call, I got an email containing my instructions:

Hi Katie,
Your IUI is tomorrow at 12:30pm with Dr. Rinaudo. Please call the thaw hotline tomorrow morning. Have a great weekend Katie!

§ SPERM THAW: The MORNING OF YOUR INSEMINATION please call the thaw hotline BEFORE 8:30am at 353-3039. The sperm will not be thawed unless you call. Please leave:
1) Full Name
2) DOB
3) Donor Name and Number
4) IUI Appointment Time

That’s right: if you do not call the “thaw hotline” the morning-of, your sperm will NOT be thawed for your IUI–way to hold the patients accountable! This actually struck me as kind of absurd, but I’m sure the policy was developed after expensive (?) thawing and no-show ladies. I did get stuck on the “Donor Name”–what’s his name again? Oh right, I never knew it. I suppose they’re referring to known donors in that case, but mine is anonymous. I’ve been calling him McPiercy but I do know his number by heart.

On Saturday morning, the hives were back in full force! I took 2 Benadryl and called the thaw hotline at around 7am. Then I spent part of the morning assembling all my baby project paperwork, creating a spreadsheet of all my cycle charting data, and adding up my expenses thus far. For the record, my average cycle lasts around 26 days, my average LH surge is on Day 13/14, my average (estimated) ovulation day is Day 14/15, my temp spike happens on Day 16, and my luteal phase is about 12/13 days. Crunching the numbers helps me feel a teensy bit in control.

I also tallied the amount I’ve spent at PRS: $3,860 for: 1 intro consultation, 4 vials, 2 IUIs, 2 ultrasounds, plus accoutrements (and a partridge in a pear tree). I could send these expenses in to be reimbursed now through my insurance but I’m holding off since I just transferred over to UCSF where all I’ve paid thus far for an RE consult, ultrasound, psychiatric evaluation, sperm transfer, and HSG test is one little $40 copay–they seamlessly bill my insurance directly. So I’m loathe to file a bunch of individual claims for PRS until I get pregnant; then I’ll cash in my chips.

While this is an expensive process, I know all too well that what I’m really paying for is the right to be a full-on solo parent with no one swooping in at the 11th hour to cause complications. I’m really paying for the right to have no man legally connected to this child (until I’m ready to connect one).

At 12:30, I entered the quiet Saturday halls of UCSF for the IUI, which was pretty much exactly the same drill as at PRS. It wasn’t Dr. Rinaudo after all, but a woman named Dr. P–nice to keep the continuity of possibly getting knocked up by a woman as long as it couldn’t be Ingrid. Dr. P. was very sympathetic about the hives and said it sounds very likely an allergy to the dye, considering that if they were stress hives they would have come and gone long ago. She also said I should stop taking Benadryl now since it could possibly interfere with implantation. Darn.

At the moment of truth, when Ingrid would have said, “I’m sending you blessings and love,” Dr. P. said, “OK, the specimen is going in.” 8 million of McPiercy’s swimmers with “excellent motility” were deployed in my uterus. I just smiled, and Mojo winked at me from where his head was poking out of my purse.

On the way home, I picked up the healthiest lunch I could think of: kale salad, rice and beans, and a carrot/ginger/lime juice from Herbivore. Then I took a long nap on the couch. I took a nap on my couch today too (and hopefully tomorrow!). The weekend has been so restful and I am grateful for one more day, which will include a SMC brunch and a date with a real-life guy (i.e. not from the internet) who asked me out for dinner.

Tonight, I accomplished one item on the weekend to-do list which was to begin looking at new places to live. I really do like my apartment (of 6 years!) and it’s fine for me right now…it’s a studio, probably 600 square feet, with south-facing bay windows, pretty views, old-school charm (read: nothing has ever been updated. I have an icebox), nice hardwood floors, great neighborhood, centrally located in the Lower Haight. But when I consider bringing a tiny roommate in here, I worry that it’s also a fourth-floor walkup with shared coin-op laundry. To me, the laundry is the dealbreaker, even if I was able to convert the walk-in closet to a baby room.

After searching around on Craig’s List for an hour or so, I started feeling my hives get itchier (I still have a few!)… The rental market is at its peak. The real estate market is ridiculous. The share situations are sketchy. Anything vaguely affordable is in a bad area. I went in circles until I remembered that I don’t have to do anything yet.

All I have to do now is get pregnant. I have faith that the rest will work itself out, whether that’s leaving the Bay Area to become a park ranger or joining a single mom co-op or getting someone to buy me a condo with no strings attached or falling into some other unlikely-but-perfect scenario I couldn’t have dreamed up ahead of time. I just try to remember how many women have done it with less.

acupuncture, anxiety, fertility, IUI, ovulation, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, Uncategorized

hives

thesolomamaproject

What a crazy few days. The HSG test kicked it off. I could give you the play by play, but I don’t really want to put you through it, and I don’t want to scare the daylights out of anyone who still has to get that test in the future. But OMG!  It hurt so bad!! I don’t know why it was so painful for me, but let’s say that my innards were most displeased with the experience.

The next day, I worked from home and screwed up my Day 10 ovulation test. I had planned to test at 2pm after not-peeing since 10 (the test requires that you not pee for 4 hours beforehand, inhumane as it may be for a well-hydrated and active young woman). But I forgot and peed at noon. Realized it, and recalculated for a 4pm test, made it to 3pm and couldn’t hold it any longer. Did the test. Left on the sink and totally forgot about it until I returned 2 hours later to discover the screen blank. I pulled out the stick, clicked it back in and poof: a smiley face. WTF!

I tested again on the spot, negative. Tested again 4 hours later: negative. Tested first thing this morning: negative. Then I broke out in hives.

At first, I thought a mosquito must have gotten into my bed during the night because I itched all over. Then I got a look at myself in the sunlight: raised, welt-like bumps on my knees, elbows, thighs, my belly-button, neck, and a sprinkle everywhere else as well. Once I identified it as hives, I felt OK. I got some Benadryl, which took care of it quickly. But whenever the Benadryl wears off, they come back. Watching them come and go is kind of mesmerizing, like watching the sun set. You take your eye off of it and next time it’s in a different formation.

I managed to hold it from 9am until 1pm today (including a noon run with a pooched-out bladder) and tested: negative. Got a call back from the UCSF nurse responding to my email: we’re going to consider that a negative. You can’t leave the test for that long and trust the result. OK. Phew. Ovulation is still to come. (probably in about 4 days)

I had another well-timed acupuncture appointment at 5pm. This is the kind of medical mystery where I much prefer my acupuncturist over any other type of doctor. He said there is no question that my body is reacting to the trauma of the HSG test by cranking up its immune response. Those muscles and tissues are very sensitive and it just isn’t normal to have your plumbing tinkered with in that way. My body clearly was on the hating-it end of the continuum and needed and deserved some de-stressing. Time to relax and take it easy.

I facetiously posted on FB today, “I’ve been using ‘That makes me break out in hives” figuratively too often and now I’m actually breaking out in hives.” I’m reminded of a story my sister told me about a woman who said for weeks, “I need a break, I need a break” and ended up breaking her ankle. The words we choose can influence our reality.

So here are some carefully-chosen words:

As I sit here on my big yellow couch under a grandma-knit blanket with my fizzy water listening to an intermittent foghorn out on the bay, I think to myself: “This makes me break out in love, wellness, peace, contentment, gratitude, and a healing little hug for my lady parts.”

donor sperm, IUI, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

your q’s!

thesolomamaproject

I just wanted to quickly respond to a couple of questions that came up as a result of yesterday’s post.

1. Why did you have to transport the sperm vials in the first place?

I’m currently working with PRS (the sperm bank) but transitioning over to UCSF Center for Reproductive Health. Because UCSF is a “center of excellence” for my insurance, my money goes twice as far over there. Plus, the care is much more comprehensive. Actually, there is no comparison. One is a sperm bank where they do IUI’s but there are no other services and it’s a very low-budge experience. They’re like, “hi, we have sperm and we’ll inseminate you if you want. If you pay extra, we’ll also do an ultrasound.” That’s about it. UCSF is a hospital with all the resources you could possibly need or want. Care is comprehensive. It took me a while to even realize that I needed to be working with a doctor–once I understood that and got my appt, and did the testing, it was too late for May. I don’t know that they’re any more or less likely to get me pregnant but I do love having the next round queued up–it’s reassuring to acknowledge the possibility that this could take a while. Dr. Lauri Pasch had a nice idea on how to think about this–to focus more on the broader goal of becoming a mother vs. whether or not I get pregnant this cycle.

2. How big was the box? There was no point of reference in the photo!

It wasn’t that big. I realize that in the photo it looks like a refrigerator box but it was only about thigh-high. 🙂

I had a lovely day of hiking with my friend M in the Oakland Hills, one of my favorite places on earth. There’s something so timeless about those tall trees and dappled, golden light, and clear, sweet air. I return there again and again.

The supermoon is full and pouring white light all over my city! Good night, Supermoon. Mojo and I are going to bed ❤

donor sperm, IUI, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

my guys!

thesolomamaproject

I checked many baby project items off the checklist today, starting with: sperm vial transport.

At 9:30 this morning, I showed up at PRS to pick up my “tank.” I put it in quotes because you don’t really know what to say until it’s happening, but that seems to be the term. “Picking up?” Yes. OK, just take a seat and we’ll bring it out.

I honestly didn’t know what to picture them coming out with. A little tank? Big tank? Tank on wheels with frosty air curling up out of crevices? But when the guy brought it out, it was just a box. There was another lady in the waiting room also waiting for a tank, showing her donor’s baby photos in the waiting room binder to a woman who seemed to be a friend (“ooh, so CUTE!”)–I averted my eyes in case the donor was mine. Anyway, hilariously we both went for the box at the same time, which generated a lot of laughter about getting the wrong box. “Good luck!”

I took it outside and took a picture of it so you could see what it looked like:Image

Yep, just a box. A cold-ish box, and there was a little curl of frosty air coming out of the handle holes. Then I put it in the back of my car. I got in and checked the photo on my phone since it had been too bright outside, and the first thing I noticed is that it says “Keep Upright”–DUH! I jumped to the back where it was laying on its side and moved it around to be wedged behind the driver’s seat. At that precise moment, the lady from the waiting room walked by with her identical box: “Didja put a seatbelt on it?!”

Driving over to UCSF, I kept forgetting it was there, singing along to the radio and spacing out on such a beautiful day. But then I’d think–wow, there they are! The eggs are in here, the sperm are in there, and one combo is hopefully going to make a person. I recently read a SMC blog who referred to the sperm as “my guys.” I love it–we’re a team, and I’m their driver.

At UCSF, I checked in at the front desk (“Dropping off?”) and got the paperwork from Nurse Olga. She disappeared and I waited, realizing I a) really had to pee, b) was parked in a 10-min passenger loading zone, and c) had a work meeting in a few minutes. She took a while and I sat there stressing, forgetting even to be self-conscious about my giant box of sperm. Finally, I took the box with me into the bathroom (you don’t really want to be apart from that box!), and of course that’s when she came looking for me. We finished up the paperwork and dropped the box off with a lab tech who took it away and brought the tank back in the re-taped-up box, ostensibly sans vials. So, I never saw the tank. (I was a little disappointed.) Got back to my car (no ticket!) and called into my meeting.

After calling in to several meetings from home, I drove over to PRS to drop off the tank (“Dropping off?”), then headed back over to UCSF for my psych evaluation, which is a requirement for anyone using a donor. To understand “the implications.” I liked Dr. Lauri Pasch. The first thing she said was, “This is not an evaluation,” which is the only thing I was worried about (as in, could the outcome of this be that she says I’m too nuts to handle being a parent?), so that put me at ease. She also seemed to feel I had handled every single thing well already: I’m at peace with my decision, gave the donor selection process careful consideration, I know how I’d like to handle telling the story to my child, I considered a known donor and ruled it out, and I have been blessed with an enormous community of support, from friends and family to the national SMC discussion board to local SMCs to my blog. I felt like the honor student of anonymous donor inseminations! Check, check, check. Good.

Back to goin’ about my biz. Have a great weekend!