Category: meditation

acupuncture, anxiety, fertility, IVF, meditation, outdoors, ovulation, parenthood, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

tomorrow

thesolomamaproject

Tomorrow is my transfer day, at 12:15pm! Good vibes, prayers, and love sent in the direction of Sutter and Divisadero, SF, CA, USA are  welcomed and appreciated! Thanks so much for the love, hugs, texts, emails, and calls already flowing in.

The weekend was a slow and steady build toward the big day. On Friday night, I had my two-hour clairvoyant reading. The five readers sat across from me with their eyes closed as they took turns reading my energy. They checked all my chakras, cleaned out the old pictures, told me about some of my past lives (I was a contented Eskimo mom as well as a famous actress in the 1910’s), and generally validated my commitment to having a child. No major blockage toward reaching my goal. After the intensity of the reading, I felt emotionally delicate. I walked to Dolores Park and sat on a bench overlooking the twinkling city, and cried. It was cleansing. If that’s what it means to get your chakras cleaned out, I’m for it.

On Saturday morning, I ran to the top of Twin Peaks, remembering with every uphill that it would be my last challenging run for a while–I savored it. I don’t normally go to the tippy-top, but this time I did.

In the afternoon, I went for Maya abdominal massage. At first, we talked about diet. She gave me some foods to target: avocado (superfood), cilantro (cooling), cinnamon (anti-inflammatory), chia seeds (another superfood w/ omega 3s, she wants me to eat them throughout the day), have a smoothie soon after waking up (to maintain blood sugar), avoid grains in the evening (to not spike blood sugar then crash overnight), drink cranberry leaf tea (to support healthy lining), etc. She has a really soothing manner. We both spoke softly.

Then, we prepared for the vagina steaming, which was very simple: she had been simmering some herbs in a regular pot which she put under what I think was a birthing stool, with the lid at an angle to let the steam rise up. she had me sit on the stool and then she wrapped me in a thick red blanket, leaving me to meditate for ten minutes. It felt odd but nice, not too hot. Every herb in there had a specific purpose, the end result ostensibly being an irresistibly sticky womb.

Afterward, I got on the massage table and she said she was going to feel around for my uterus. Did you know this was possible? I did not. I would have thought it was too far in the middle of the body. The uterus is, in fact, impossible for me to visualize, unless it’s a Georgia O’Keeffe painting, or a pancake. In the 3D environment of my body, I am clueless.

She found it with her fingers, pressing gently. She exclaimed, “She’s pretty anterior!” and then gradually guided “her” back to center. It felt a little strange to have someone pawing at my belly, but not as uncomfortable as I imagined it could be.

She finished with a full body massage, my first in years–so amazing. I was jello after that. I had no choice but to go home and take a nap. The rest of the weekend I spent holding babies at parties and celebrating my sister’s graduation.

Today, I went around feeling like I swallowed a canary. At the end of the day, I stopped to pick up groceries for an uber-healthy, delicious dinner, and ended up spending $15 on a wild salmon filet that turned out to be maybe the best salmon I’ve ever had, simply prepared with lemon and garlic in foil. Also, broccoli. And chips with homemade guacamole w/ cilantro. Now I’ll drink some cranberry leaf tea and take a bath before bed.

My evening protocol right now has me decreasing the estrogen patches on my belly while I increase the dosage of intramuscular progesterone injections. This is mimicking what happens after ovulation, but without the ovulation, getting my uterus right where a Day 6 blast would want and expect it to be. The progesterone shots are gnarly–1.5″ needle and a funky angle to do on yourself. They’re not so painful at the time, but I have a little painful knot developing behind each hip. I massage them a lot. I’ll continue these for several if not many weeks–and it should be noted that the side effects are identical to those of pregnancy (including delaying AF!).

Tomorrow is a dream day: therapy at 7:30, personal trainer at 9:30, go home and take a Valium, my sister picks me up at 11:30, meet embie #1 soon after 12:15, then acupuncture at 3pm.

How do I feel? I feel like I’ve done a really good job. I have done everything in the world I could reasonably do. I feel really hopeful and a little anxious, also grounded, centered, uterus-centered, nourished, peaceful. I feel like all that I’ve learned and practiced around self-care these past weeks are gifts already received from the baby to be.

What a process. Grateful for you and all of the above and the chance to get pregnant tomorrow.

xo

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

transfer date

thesolomamaproject

You guys! At long last, we are almost to transfer.

I drove over to my lining check feeling happy to be going back to UCSF after weeks and weeks of no appointments. The woman at the front desk told me I owed “$27.99.” I looked at her in confusion and told her my co-pays are usually $40. She said, “No, sorry, I meant [whispered] $2,799.” OOHHH. Right. This is the cost of one Frozen Embryo Transfer, up front. This time, I had an amazon Rewards Card–see, I’m getting better at this all the time.

When Dr. Zamah walked into the exam room, I was reading through my lengthy FET consent form, getting my head back in the game. He said he’d be looking for a good lining and no cysts. I wasn’t anxious until that moment–who’s to say what’s going on in there??

Going in, though, I knew that throughout this entire process, I have not missed a single pill, injection, or patch. Amazing. That’s how #1 this is in my own mind.

Awesome results–lining is great, left ovary quiet, right ovary quiet; he said, “I approve! Green light!” He’s a nice, light-hearted guy. And, just like that, I was over the last hurdle.

Almost. I met with Nurse Claire, who said they’re having great results with FETs recently. We went over my new protocol. (I now have four calendars taped to my kitchen wall from this whole process.) Tonight, I’ll peel off one of the four estrogen patches on my belly and give myself a progesterone shot. Start Medrol tomorrow. Valium on my transfer date, which is:

—>Tuesday, June 11<—

My sister will drive me there and back. We are transferring one embryo, my Day 6 5BB, my frontrunner.

Between now and then, I’ll do acupuncture, a clairvoyant reading/healing, and Maya abdominal massage (including vagina steaming–you know I will report back). I’ll sit outside with friends, and otherwise relax and meditate and rest and drink smoothies. (I just had one with banana, avocado, frozen blueberries and strawberries, spinach, honey, almond butter, chia seeds, coconut milk, and ice. Delish.) I’ve got this covered.

Pregnancy test 2 weeks later on 6/25 (yep, it’s still a two week wait…if I don’t pee on a stick first).

On the way out, I saw Maria from the front desk and Lili the genetic counselor and gave them hugs. When I told them my transfer was Tuesday, Lili said, “O….M….G!!”

Exactly.

meditation, outdoors, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

weekend snapshots

thesolomamaproject

I absolutely must be in bed at 10 tonight, which is in 38 minutes, which means tonight we’re doing snapshots from my weekend at Spirit Rock:

  • I checked my email confirmation at 7:25am to make sure what time I needed to arrive for the Daylong in Nature and for the first time noticed that I was supposed to be there not at 9:30, but at 8:45. Which meant I’d have to leave in 20 minutes. I flew around my apartment eating breakfast, packing my lunch, showering, not washing my hair, and jumped in the car with only 45 minutes to do an hour’s drive. Rushing to a meditation retreat is ridiculous. I sped over the bridge and once on Sir Francis Drake realized I’d be about 10 minutes early. And I felt my brain click over to the next thing to worry about: would I have time to use the bathroom, find a refrigerator for my lunch, and get water? I didn’t even spend one second feeling relieved and grateful before moving on to the next worry. But at least I noticed it.
  • In a related story, later on that day a woman at the retreat mentioned that while meditating, she had a fly buzzing her left ear. Then her right ear. She was really irritated. Then the fly flew away, and she felt “lost.” We talked about how the fly could represent anything and how we all live from fly to fly, wondering when we’re going to get chocolate cake.
  • Back to my arrival: I checked in, used the bathroom, got water, and learned that there was no fridge available. I sat in the warm sun in the overgrown grass putting on sunscreen when I met two women sitting near me. I learned that their names were “Spring,” and “Rain.” I said, wait–did you say Spring and Rain? And then Rain says to Spring, “I thought your name was Stephanie?” and Spring says serenley, “Spring is just easier.”
  • We spent the day in silence, starting when we walked up the hill. I realized that it was my first full event in silence. I loved it. As much as I enjoy meeting people, it’s a relief for once to peel that layer off the whole experience and just focus inward. We were given permission not to speak, gesture, or whisper. We shuffled along the path together silently–and suddenly I noticed a lizard, a spiderweb, and a brilliant blue sky.
  • The nature event included less teaching and more meditation–alternating between sitting and walking. Sitting is going better for me, not so uncomfortable. Walking meditation is surprisingly mind-blowing. The point is simply to walk mindfully, which means walking slowly. I always get a zombie vibe when I look around at the people ambling aimlessly. But when I stop looking around, I get totally lost in the moment. I discovered wildflowers (orange, yellow, and purple, wished MM were there to identify), found patches where deer had slept, studied a dead tree against the blue sky. I walked barefoot. I ambled along the trail, up the hill, down the hill, into the bushes (here’s hoping no poison oak). I put my hands on a large rock, partially embedded in the earth, warm in the hot sun. It reminded me of similar rocks on my grandparents’ property and I had a moment with them. I came back to my cushion feeling like I’d had a busy day at work–but a whole new kind of work.
  • I noticed this weekend how many people at meditation retreats are on the verge of tears, how many going through true crises, my heart blew up with compassion for some of the people who shared their stories.
  • Today’s daylong was with Tara Brach, a famous meditation teacher from DC whom my friend A raves about. A went as far as giving her baby son the middle name Brach–such a deep connection to her spiritual guide. There were around 200 people there plus another few hundred online. I was excited to experience Tara’s teaching after listening to a few of her podcasts, and now I know why she has such a massive following. Her guided meditations were extraordinary. I pushed past stuck thinking in at least four different personal life issues. In one case, she had us envision a situation where we were triggered and reactive, to play it through like a movie, frame by frame, and then pause on the most triggered moment. Then imagine someone you admire (Pema Chodron) filling in your shoes in that moment–how do they react? What advice do they give you? Tears poured down my cheeks as I realized how she’d tricked us all into connecting with our own deep wisdom.
  • Afterward, I had her sign my book (she wrote: “For Katie, with blessings and love. <3, Tara”) and told her I’m a friend of A and another aspiring single mom, and she wished me the best. She told me her sister was an SMC. I put my hand on my heart and she put her hands in prayer and I am her newest fan. www.tarabrach.com (check out her weekly podcast)
  • I feel inspired. I remember what and whom I love. I am aware of my body. My heart is open.
  • I bow to the divine in you.
meditation, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

meditation

thesolomamaproject

I don’t remember the first time I meditated. I do remember inching toward it in college, reading Jon Kabat-Zinn on mindfulness, gradually becoming aware of my tendencies toward anxiety and depression and looking for relief from an anxious mind. I started doing yoga. I began to realize that the world keeps buzzing by and never gives you a break. I noticed that I felt more grounded and whole when I was doing something meditative like playing music, writing, appreciating nature.

Later, I ended up in San Francisco, where meditation is not weird and is in fact quite ordinary. I signed up for a daylong retreat. I learned about how to sit on a cushion (which, as a rule, is–still– terribly uncomfortable for me), how to focus on my breath, how to be forgiving as thoughts ran away from me like puppies and I gently gathered them back. I liked the teacher, Howard Cohn, and discovered that he did a weekly meditation and dharma talk in the Mission. I started going to that.

People may ask, “What does it do for you?” and it’s hard to articulate an answer. For a long time, it felt like I was pulling myself out of the river of my relentless thoughts, sitting on the riverbank and watching them flow by like leaves. My mind felt clearer afterward.

One time I received a phone call at work from a very angry person, yelling as soon as I picked up the phone. Once I realized what was happening, in a split second I centered myself. I acknowledged inwardly that her energy was not mine. I let her yell for a while and then addressed her from a peaceful island oasis. It’s my single example of how meditation has helped me, but it’s a good one.

Most days, I try to meditate for ten minutes in the morning. Sometimes in a chair, sometimes sitting on my couch facing the sunrise in the east. Many times, I just let the thoughts roll and don’t even remember to bring it back to my breath. This isn’t the “point,” exactly, to be planning what to wear or making mental notes about how to handle projects at work.

The point is, it’s a practice. It’s not one thing with one clear result. It’s a process of training the mind to recognize thoughts as thoughts–not my reality, not my storyline, not my truth. (Pause to take a sip of my Ocean of Wisdom tea, no joke.)

At Green Gulch, I approached our dharma teacher (and Buddhist priest) with a goofy question. I figured it would be unanswerable and/or offensive, but I had to ask him anyway. It was gnawing at me, and when I mentioned it to several others, they were curious about it too.

My question was: if I am meditating in the zendo next to an experienced meditator (like a monk or nun or priest) and there are thought bubbles over our heads, what is in the thought bubbles? In essence, what am I striving for?

He looked thoughtful and answered my question much more directly than I expected. He said that in my thought bubble, he suspects that there would be lots of images of people, places, objects. And in the experienced meditator’s bubble? “Clouds.”

He acknowledged that all people have stresses and struggles–but the experienced meditator has a choice when these things come up. They can choose not to follow that line of thinking (whereas I often get dragged along).

Earlier that day, we had done an exercise in the garden where he had asked us to find one spot of our own and focus on one thing of our choosing, giving it our full attention for 15 minutes. I laid down between the strawberries and some orange poppies and focused on the sky. The coastal fog was roiling through the blue sky, dynamic, swirling.

The image of “clouds” therefore was instantly and freshly available to me the next time I sat. For a while I just had clouds. Then a thought arose and I thought “choice” and went back to the clouds. I kept this up surprisingly well for about a twenty minute session and was excited to tell our teacher of this development. (And the next time I meditated, I spent the entire time wrestling with the cushion…)

I will keep up my practice. I’ll read Pema, I’ll attend two daylongs this coming weekend: one entirely outside in nature and the other with the famous Tara Brach. I need to get a Buddha so he will remind me to sit. And a zafu and a zabuton. I need a bolster so I can spread-eagle offer my uterus up to the gods. It’s important to have the right accoutrements.

Meditation is helping keep me mellow as life throws all kinds of twists and turns in my path. I am serene as a mountain peak. I breathe.

Less than two weeks to go.

Let the waters settle and you will see the moon and the stars mirrored in your own being. ~Rumi

 

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

receiving

thesolomamaproject

It’s so inspiring be here. Time passes slowly, the sun sliding gracefully across the sky, the clock ticking on the wall of the yoga room, the phases of the day unfolding gradually. No one is in a hurry. Last week, I was literally running from one meeting to the next. This morning, I finished my breakfast, hung around talking and laughing with new friends for what seemed like a long time, and I still have an hour free before our dharma talk at 9:30.

I never have this kind of leisurely pace. Here, even when we’re doing something like yoga or meditation or eating or walking or reading, we’re doing it mindfully, and time takes on a different dimension.

Here it is a holiday weekend and time is not flying by. (Bonus!)

With this kind of time, you get new perspectives, new ideas for ways of being. We’ve been discussing the concept of generosity and giving vs, receiving; we’re in a mindset of receiving. I receive the birds flickering by outside my window, this simple room, a slice of steaming bread just delivered. I receive the lighthearted company of new friends, a full belly, shivasana. In this mindset, we all clear each other’s dishes, offer to get each other a cup of tea, walk together in silence to 5am meditation. In a mindset of receiving, you have more to give.

Meditation this morning was better although I still feel like such a bumbling newbie in the zendo. Getting to my zafu I have down. Sitting for 40 minutes was good, I was on my knees and pretty comfortable. My mind was serene. I listened to moisture falling off the trees and hitting the roof. I heard the frog anthems give way to birds. I heard people around me sniffling and repositioning.

We transitioned into walking meditation and a nun had to redirect me as I was going in the wrong direction.

During the second meditation, I was more restless, I repositioned a lot to avoid the panic and impulse to run away (my teachers laughed yesterday when i asked about this and agreed that torture is not the point). Amazing how quickly my brain goes there when discomfort arises. But the posture clinic and the intense yoga yesterday have me looser, more forgiving, less perfectionist.

Then we segued into chanting and prostration where I was truly lost and a kindly older man pointed me to the right place in the prayer book. It’s good to be new at something and let the wise ones guide you. Lots of bowing. Glad it’s about the Buddha and not some weird California cult.

Coincidentally, there’s an SMC here who I met last summer. She is pregnant–after a failed IVF, she went back to IUIs. We keep catching each other on the way to meals and then get cut off as we observe ten minutes of silence at the beginning of meals. Somehow I think we both only want to go there in smaller doses, which seems appropriate here.

There was a yoga pose yesterday where we laid on a bolster going the length of our spine with the bottoms of our feet together and knees resting on zafus, arms splayed out. To me it felt like, “Here’s my uterus, universe! Ready to receive!” We held the pose for twenty minutes.

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

zen

thesolomamaproject

Well, can you believe it? The Guest House has internet. So my pre-posts can now be posts.

I arrived yesterday afternoon, abuzz after zipping in from NY, unpacking, packing, and flying over the Golden Gate Bridge while talking to my mom on the phone. Arrived 10 mins late, only to find that time is a bit fluid here, the Intro to Zazen class had just begun.

Thus began my re-entry into the world of zendos, zafus, Zazen, and zen. The little mat that goes under the zafu also starts with z although I can’t remember it now…

Green Gulch Farm is a gem, an absolutely stunning property below Highway 1 and tucked into a valley just behind the coastal hills. The place could not be more green, could not have more constant birdsong, could not be any closer to the city while feeling worlds away from the city. The buildings are beautiful in their simplicity, with stairways and lit pathways forming a small labyrinthine village. The people in the office welcomed me and I could palpably feel that their pace was about one-third of my own.

Intro to Zazen was brief and covered the important “forms” to follow in formal meditation practice: step through the doorway with a certain foot, take two steps in and bow to the Buddha, bow to your zafu, turn clockwise and bow to the room, sit on the zafu without touching the edge where the monks eat, spin clockwise and get into position. It seems religious but everything has a function to help you be mindful, grateful, present.

Then we started with yoga class which was perfect for my weary jet-lagged body which has not really done yoga in years since I hurt my back years ago. We did resting poses, opened up our hips, almost always were laying down with blankets next to the wood-burning stove.

There are 17 of us. Mostly people seemingly my age, some a bit older, thoughtful, friendly. We ate dinner in the dining hall–nuns carried out giant dishes of food with brown rice, a tomato vegetable stew, and roasted zucchini. We chitchatted and got to know each other a bit, lovely people.

After dinner we did an icebreaker and I realize how many people are overly stressed at work, struggle to maintain a meditation practice, want more in life than a hamster wheel. The teacher had us invite people into the room who are not really here, people for whom we will practice. I thought of many of you.

I went to bed at 9:00 and it was perfectly quiet even though there are many people here.

Alarm at 4:30 (thank goodness I’m on east coast time) and I dressed in many layers to head to Zazen in the meditation hall. I stepped outside in the dark and looked around to get my bearings and there was the full moon like a spotlight in the night sky, it absolutely took my breath away.

I didn’t need my headlamp. Walked in, a nun showed me to my zafu, whether or not I did all the steps right I don’t think anyone noticed, and I settled in. Occasionally there was a gong or a bell. There was a symphony of birdsong.

I felt wonderful and proud and grateful for about twenty minutes and eventually my body started hating it and going into distress mode and I repositioned and breathed and knew I would survive. (I’m going to a posture clinic in 15 mins which will help.)

I survived. Afterward, rather than walking meditation followed by a second Zazen, I went back the Guest House for delicious bread with peanut butter and jam and chamomile tea and then headed out on a walk. The moon now hung pale pink in the lightening blue sky. I crunched down the gravel path alone, through the gorgeous farm with its colorful rows of flowers and leafy greens, saw quail, rabbit, a red-winged blackbird, some horses, breathed the cool air. I emerged at Muir Beach as the sun came over the hills, heading over to the little house I rented with my family two Thanksgivings ago, the first time I officially told my family of my plans to become a single mom.

Facing the sun on the way back, I walked a bit faster to make it in time for breakfast. Everything sparkled in the morning dew. I ran into F, one of my favorite people so far, searching for a very noisy woodpecker he could not see. We strolled in to breakfast: hot rice cream cereal, tofu sweet potato something or other, hard boiled eggs, and hot apple juice.

Over breakfast, I connected with L who has a beautiful Hawaiian name, who is a freelance writer. She’s actually here on assignment. I got so inspired talking to her. Let’s be honest, this is my passion. I just have to start navigating from here to there, and write more, and write all kinds of new topics and formats and just dig in. When we were done she said she’d be glad to talk to me more about it later and I came back here to write this.

From here. With peppermint tea. xo

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

it’s still my life

thesolomamaproject

I play Draw Something with my almost 5-year-old niece on the other side of country, and I’ve noticed that she’ll often start drawing something and erase it and start over and then erase that and then start over. She usually gets it by the third try, her human figures consistently tall triangles with tiny heads, two eyes, and one thin line making an upside-down U, depicting long hair. I think this is my third try getting this blog post started. Let’s stick with this one.

I had a productive day which started with a smoothie made of peanut butter, açai, spinach, banana, berries, chia seeds, protein powder, and coconut milk, and a run with my trainer at 7:15am as the sun rose over the bay. I was bursting with congratulations to myself for making such a fabulous thing happen–every time I actually get it together to do an early morning workout I feel like a genius for the entire day. I am plowing through to-do lists at work as the lists continue to expand. I feel mostly competent, sometimes inspired, frequently ineffectual. Tonight I worked till 7:30 and left the office with my eyes feeling heavy.

One burrito and one West Wing episode later and I am yawning on the couch.

A friend asked me today where I am on the IVF schedule and I checked the calendar and the answer was “3.5 weeks.” Goodness gracious this is taking a long time. I think time is slowing down. I remember back when everything happened in two-week increments, which was positively breakneck speed compared to IVF. One of my cycle buddies who had her retrieval the day before mine and did a fresh transfer will be 10 weeks pregnant by the time I have my transfer, if my math is right.

Still, it’s weird not to have anything much to do or think about related to fertility. I looked up at the clouds tonight and thought I saw the number 5. I want to mentally commune with them but it all feels so virtual.

I’ve made a whole bunch of plans. First, I’m going to NYC on Sunday. It’s a very packed week with some quite exciting projects in the works. Sometimes when I go to NYC I hardly tell any close friends I’m there because I’m so  busy I don’t want to max myself out or flake on anybody. Well, this is going to be one of those trips where I’m going to see everyone. It feels like a good time to just go for it.

Then on Friday, I’ll transition into peace and quiet. Last night, I started searching around for a meditation retreat for the holiday weekend since Palm Springs is a no-go. These are so hard to get in to–you have to plan months and months ahead. Seems like me and my friend KC are always deciding less than a month beforehand that a certain retreat is perfect and we get our hearts set on it and then by the time we call it’s all booked.

So, imagine my surprise when I called to find that they had one small room left, for me.  This retreat will be a mix of yoga, meditation, vegetarian meals (they are known for their fresh baked bread), long breaks for naps and hikes. Tea and books. Fog and trees. No cell service. 20 minutes from SF and folded into the wilderness. The perfect homecoming at a reflective and transitional time.

My therapist reminded me that although it’s a transitional time, it’s still my life.

With that, I’m going to transition right off this page and into bed. good night

 

 

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

retrieval

thesolomamaproject

Thanks, B, for your beautiful guest post. Thanks for keeping my grounding cord plugged into the center of the earth while the nurse was digging around for a vein on my hand to start the IV. And for reminding me to meditate when I had the chance. And for taking me to Whole Foods afterward. And for still being here in my apartment on work calls while I’m on the couch. So glad you could be there today and I love you, too!

This morning went very smoothly. I felt anxious–not about the procedure but about the numbers. I had slept fitfully, dreaming of accidentally eating and having the hospital tell me I’d have to come back the next day. I was sleepy, dehydrated, hungry. But it was a gorgeous morning, and my sister texted me, “Ready to rock.” She walked out of her house with both arms in the air in a victory pose. She seriously brings the positive!

We checked in, gown, hairnet, IV. The anesthesiologist was very enthusiastic and acted like I was an overachiever for having a good heartbeat and no obstructions in my airways. She said I’d go into deep sedation and if I was too conscious I could ask to go deeper.

They led me into the room, kept dim for the eggs and embryos which do not like the light. I laid down with my legs up on knee stirrups and the nurses said they liked my striped knee socks. I told them that they were from my other sister, the one not waiting outside but on the other side of the country, so I had my sisters represented. They thought that made sense on such a “good luck-y” kind of day.

The anesthesiologist had me confirm my name, birthday, why I was there, and any allergies to meds, and then I felt a warmth start in the center of my body and spread outward. She said the next one would be spicy going into the vein, which it was, but the next thing that happened was total sleep.

I woke up maybe 45 mins later feeling velvety. I asked the nurse how many they got and she said 18. I didn’t really process or believe it, given my hazy state of mind. I asked maybe one, maybe two more times. 18. Eventually, after some apple juice and crackers, I got up and went to the bathroom and had a big 18 written on my palm. So, 18! A big upgrade from the 12-13 forecast on the phone by Dr. Tran yesterday.

Tomorrow, I’ll get the fertilization report and will talk to Dr. T. about our next steps–all my options are open.

The eggs are being fertilized RIGHT NOW. Please send love over at Sutter and Divisadero!

I came home and the tulips had bloomed. xo

tulips

acupuncture, anxiety, family, fertility, IVF, meditation, outdoors, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, writing

numbers

thesolomamaproject

I think I’ve been avoiding writing, just like I sometimes avoid meditating–with anxiety following me around like a shadow, not wanting it to catch up.

What you need to know is that everything is going fine.

What’s going on behind the scenes is that I’m getting information every other day, and now every day, on my estrogen level and number and measurements of my growing follicles. And I’ve had to consciously back down from a) trying to be an overachiever, b) interpreting, c) doing math, and d) obsessing about the numbers as if it will help me control the final outcome. It won’t. You also need to understand that the numbers at this point are almost irrelevant–you can have dozens of follicles and only a few mature eggs. You could also have only a few follicles but one mature egg that results in a healthy singleton. And everything in between.

At the first appointment, I didn’t know what to expect. This is a vulnerable place.  I felt like the doctors had grim expressions and were disappointed in my number of follicles, which was around 13. It should be noted that they didn’t say anything (at all) to this effect, but when I walked out I felt like a failure and spent the day on the edge of tears. I texted B that I was spiraling and she said, “Don’t interpret. It’s too early to do that and trust your doctors–let them do the work.”

I went to acupuncture the following night and emerged so deeply drained. I asked him if he’d done anything differently than usual, and he said that when you’re that stressed, it’s a long journey to get back to your baseline.

For the second appointment, I brought my sister, who kept me plugged into the irrelevance of the numbers in the short term. Bringing my sis got the docs’ attention and suddenly Dr. Rosen seemed to realize that I was stuck on the anxiety channel and needed strong reassurances–and he gave them to me throughout the appointment. Everything looks really good, you’re doing everything you’re supposed to do, see here on the monitor? Everything is growing, that’s what we want. Don’t worry, you’re doing great, it looks really good. I wanted to celebrate, but my helpful sister reminded me that just like we wouldn’t get destroyed by numbers now, we’re also not going to celebrate. But I did feel way better. My acupuncturist confirmed that my pulse conveyed a much lower stress level the following night (another zapping session, though–afterward, I went home, ate pizza, and fell asleep at 7pm).

At the third appointment, on Saturday, I went alone. Different docs this time, and I didn’t even try to track the measurement of every follicle or do math in my head. I let go, just letting them take over, maybe finally realizing that, no matter what, it will be what it will be. There’s nothing to adjust, except my dosage of meds, which is totally up to Dr. Tran and he hasn’t changed anything since I started. I’m doing everything right, according to Dr. Rosen. All we can do is see how this cycle turns out and have faith that my baby is in there.

I did a pretty good job of letting go on Saturday but I also just happened to be in a terrible mood. I felt like crying about everything, couldn’t bring myself to do the dishes from Tuesday, etc. Still, I managed to finish my taxes AND do laundry, so why I didn’t feel my afternoon was a record-breaking success should be blamed on the hormones. I felt sad and lonely and stuck.

At around 4:45pm, I threw on my running clothes and drove out to Ocean Beach. As I sat in my car getting ready to run, a hurricane-like wind threatened to lift my car into the air. I opened the door and it swung open so hard I thought it may have been damaged. Stepping out into the gale force, I thought YES THIS IS WHAT I NEEDED and began my run along the boardwalk.

I almost couldn’t run straight it was so windy. Specks of sand blasted onto my bare skin, stinging. PERFECT. Despite its ponytail anchor, my hat flew off. Then my hat flew off again. Then it flew off AGAIN. I found myself screaming into the wind FUCK YOU, MOTHERFUCKER and suddenly woke up to my storm-like emotions. I actually started laughing.

Holding my hat in my hand, I continued up the boardwalk with my hair whipping around my face, forming a frenetic, lion-like frizz. I ran up the hill, past the Cliff House, and turning inland into Lands End, where the wind became a mild breeze, the golden afternoon sunlight at an angle that melts my heart.

I needed that. I kept thinking, “This is my natural Paxil.”

Today, after 9 hours of sleep, I woke up better. A gloriously clear day. I picked up my friend C who graciously offered to come with me to my appointment, which are now every day because we’re getting close. It was lovely to have her along although I feel sufficiently detached now, not even particularly asking questions. They’ll tell me if there’s something I need to know or decide.

My likely retrieval day is this Thursday, to be confirmed at tomorrow’s appointment. Then we’ll have real numbers to contemplate: number of eggs retrieved and then the number fertilized. My letting-go skills are getting honed.

My sister has me focused on what it will feel like to have a baby. I’m skipping all these steps in my mind and visualizing the final outcome–the only thing that matters.

Yesterday, my estrogen level was 2,014 (aka my baby’s birth year).

All it takes is one.

anxiety, donor sperm, fertility, IVF, meditation, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

stims

thesolomamaproject

So far, so good. On Thursday, I had my baseline and essentially combined four appointments in one. First, I went to PRS when they opened to pick up McPiercy’s five remaining vials. I realized it was likely my last time going to PRS, perhaps ever, and I’ve lost count of how many vial transports I’ve done but this is at least three. Hilariously, when I got outside with the box, I posed it next to a silver Prius that is not mine but was parked a few spots down from mine! This is not my car, but these are my guys:

mcpiercy3

 

After parking at UCSF, I remember standing at the corner of Sutter and Divisadero waiting for the light to change, having this distinct sense that my child is coming together now, literally–half is in me, half is in one of the millions of sperm, frozen in time, in this box.

I checked in and the receptionist said kindly, “I see here we need to collect a large sum of money from you today.” Indeed. I took out my checkbook (and later regretted not using a fancy credit card with points–it’s been on my list of things to do forever now…) Olga came out to have me sign the ICSI forms. I dragged the box around with me while I gave blood (to check my estrogen level) and went in for an ultrasound. During the ultrasound, Nurse Jennifer asked if I was a runner and for a second I thought she saw something in my uterus that betrayed this fact about me–but when I said yes, she said, “I saw you running at Lands End. I never know if people want me to say hi.” I laughed and said, “OH, yes, I want you to say hi!” She said she was with her yellow lab so I told her I’ll watch for yellow labs next time.

She kept saying “great, perfect, excellent.” All was quiet on the ovarian front, which is what you want for the baseline. She said they’d call in the afternoon with the blood results to give me the green light on beginning stims.

Next, I went to the lab to drop off the box which only took a few minutes. Then I went to see Lili, my genetic counselor, to sign some more forms and give a cheek swab sample. Yep, that’s all they need to get your genetic makeup. Lili is my new BFF. She kept telling me I’m fabulous and that my chances are amazing and at one point she raised both arms in the air and said, “I LOVE MY SINGLE LADIES!” On my way out, she grabbed my jacket and said, “OH my God, is this from REI? This is the exact jacket I want,” and quizzed me about it. I am verging on asking her on a friend date although I’d probably want to talk shop the whole time which would be boring for her!

All that AND I made it back home in time for a meeting. That afternoon, I got the call that my estrogen was at 57, go ahead and start the stims on Friday night.

On Friday night, I got home a little later than intended and hadn’t walked myself through the whole process by reading through the materials and watching the videos, etc. So I felt a little anxious and also exhausted, not the picture of IVF serenity that I had hoped. Lupron was no prob–just decreased the dose by half. Follistim is pretty foolproof–it’s a pen and you just dial up the dose. When I got to the Menopur, which requires drawing up sodium cloride, injecting it into the Menopur vial, swishing it so the powder dissolves into the fluid, drawing it back up, injecting it into a second vial, swishing it around, and drawing it back up again, I freaked out because a) there was a ton of air and b) there wasn’t nearly as much fluid as I started with. I have a bad habit of trying to destroy the evidence of my mistakes and plowing ahead with a fresh start as if nothing happened (cooking is another good example)–so I found myself dumping the fluid with one vial of powder into the sink and starting over. It was dumb (and expensive). But if that’s the price of my learning, so be it. The second attempt was successful, although I went to bed nervous because I had used the same syringe and if there were traces of a third vial maybe I just overdosed myself…

Yesterday, I got some advice on the boards and talked to Dr. B. and last night went much better. I wish you could see how many steps it is, how freaking long it takes, how much there is to dispose, recycle, and drop into the sharps container for just one evening’s worth. But, I’m getting it. And my belly is hanging in there.

I slept fitfully–sweating, waking up disoriented, dreaming. Woke up and went directly on a six-mile run–a gift to me. The countdown is on if I’m going to stop running on day 5 of stims. Came home to make delicious almond butter pancakes and a smoothie. Took a bath. Meditated. Took a 2-hour nap. Went w/ Dr. B. for a foot massage. I basically nailed Saturday.

Slept great last night. I have an appt in 25 minutes for a blood draw at UCSF, so I best be getting out of my pajamas. The first ultrasound will be Tuesday and then we’ll be off to the races! Here’s hoping for a 20-way tie!