Overdue!

This update, along with the baby, was/is overdue!

Our little Chicklette #2 -- let's call her Little G -- was born at 41 weeks on April 22nd. As with her older sister, I was induced and had a blissfully drama-free vaginal birth. One great epidural, roughly 6 hours of labor, and 8 pushes and she was out. She was 7 lbs. 10 oz., which shocked me -- I guess a 39-pound toddler will skew your view of babies.

So, 5 weeks in and we're doing great. The 2 weeks post-birth were pretty grisly -- including but not limited to a pair of cracked and bleeding nipples, and numerous rounds of resulting blood-laced spit-up -- but we are thankfully past that. In fact, breastfeeding has been a breeze since she was about 2 weeks old. I won't lie and say I love it, but Little G is gaining weight, latching great, and I'm even building up a modest stash of frozen milk. So I guess it doesn't have to suck the second time just because it did the first.

I thought I would have mixed feelings about being done with the whole pregnancy and childbearing thing (I was feeling very weepy towards the end of my pregnancy about this) -- but I am unequivocally thrilled and relieved. No more IVF. No more nervewracking ultrasounds/amnios/bouts of random spotting/etc. I feel very lucky. I know I'm lucky. And am so grateful.

This may be my last post -- I am obviously horrible at keeping this blog updated, and feel pretty confident that there is not anything especially interesting or valuable that I have to add to the interwebs on the subject of parenting. So, just in case....thank you to everyone out there who might still be reading for all of the support over the years, and thank you to the amazing women whose blogs I still avidly follow and read -- you've been and continue to be inspiring, enlightening, amusing....and a very special part of my journey towards becoming a mom.

Nesting, nesting, nesting

26 weeks and all is well. Our full amnio results came back normal, and the little one is kicking up a storm in there all day (and all night -- yeesh) long.

And the nesting bug has bitten me HARD. And it's a good thing, because we are still in the same tiny house that barely fit one kid. And because we don't have to buy all of the baby gear we did the first time, I can channel all of my nesting energy into home improvement. Which the Mr. is THRILLED about, let me tell you.

So, IKEA has been visited, paint chips have been taped and tucked in various places, rooms have been measured, and excess belongings have been (mostly) purged. Here's what we have on tap for the next 6 weeks or so (in rough chronological order):

• Paint and install crown molding in master bedroom
• Build and install wardrobes in master bedroom, move husband's clothes from room which is currently the office but will soon be a playroom
• Move desk from office/playroom to kitchen nook; move play kitchen and bookshelf from Chicklette room to office/playroom
• Install new sofa bed, rug, TV and assorted other items in playroom
• Move all toys possible from various locations in house to playroom
• Buy new toddler bed and install in Chicklette's room (she will share with #2 -- although she doesn't know that yet!)
• Install new lighting fixtures in master bedroom, playroom, dining room, kitchen
• Pray that baby doesn't come before above list is completed

So, we've got our work cut out for us.  But I'm having a ball planning all of this.  Will post before and after pictures if I remember!

21 week update

I usually log into Blogger every couple of days to check in on all of the blogs on my reading list....but never really look at my own. Which I guess explains how 6 weeks have passed since my last update?!?

Anyhoo, here's what's going on:

• I'm 21 weeks today. How did that happen?!?! I'm officially into the maternity pants, which is kind of nice....especially so on Thanksgiving.
• I've only gained about 10 pounds since we started our FET cycle.....which is huge for me given that by this time in my last pregnancy I think I had gained close to 20 (and that's not counting the 30-ish I'd gained during our infertility odyssey). I know that weight should be the least of my concerns, but I'm really committed to staying in shape and not letting things get out of control like they did last time. Sort of hard when I'm craving pizza with a side of bread followed by a bowl of ice cream....
• We finally had an amnio last week....we'd been trying since 16 weeks, but due to some weirdness in my uterus (the two layers of the lining -- the chorion and amnion, I think? -- hadn't fused an apparently this can make miscarriage post-procedure more likely), we'd been on hold. The procedure itself was no big deal -- pretty much just another needle in the belly -- but it was oddly emotional. And weird to see all that fluid being sucked out.
• The results of said amnio -- at least the preliminary FISH results -- are normal. Yay! Full results to come later this week, so hopefully there are no chromosomal surprises in our future.
• And finally.....we're having another girl! I was totally surprised, but am excited for the Chicklette to have a little baby partner in crime. (We haven't told her yet -- more on that later.) And of course it's nice to not have to buy a whole bunch of new crap, although I'm sure somehow a few girly accoutrements will find their way into my shopping cart at Target.

So, that's the scoop. Now we're just trying to savor our last holiday season as a family of 3....

Hangin' in at 15 weeks

Still here. Still pregnant (at least I think so). Exhausted after a weekend of a toddler with gastrointestinal distress -- I now literally know what it means to be elbow deep in poop.

Somehow, I've rounded the corner into the second trimester. I'm sporting a little pooch, and am in that delightful not-quite-ready-for-maternity-clothes-but-obviously-larger stage, which is garnering some odd looks at work (where I'm not "out" to the wider world quite yet). The morning/afternoon sickness is more or less gone, as is the fatigue, which is nice.

Not so nice: the positive results from the first-trimester screening, which means I'm headed for an amnio next week. (In this context, "positive results" are not necessary positive.) I'm not worried about the actual test -- oddly enough, big needles don't really scare me much anymore -- but I am of course worried about the results.  It's a small chance (1 in 72) that something is wrong....but somehow that's not super-comforting at the moment.

The bright side: Getting to find out just a wee bit earlier than planned what flavor the baby is....which I guess means we won't have any more excuses for delaying the talk with the Chicklette about Becoming a Big Sister. Can't wait to see how that one goes!

Deja vu

I don't know what it is, but my uterus is such a drama queen. Last time around, I had a bleeding episode at around 8 weeks that foreshadowed the loss of a twin. Last night (at 8 weeks, 1 day), I woke up for my usual 2 a.m. pee to find a pantiliner soaked with red blood. Which, of course, incited total panic.

Our RE was able to see us at 9:30 this morning, and thank God everything looks great. The nugget is measuring a little big, with a heartbeat chugging along at 167 BPM.  The doctor said that the bleeding is very common -- he sees it in 50% (!) of IVF pregnancies, and it's almost always benign -- and that I shouldn't worry as long as it tapers off.  Easy for him to say, but comforting (I guess) nonetheless. There was no sign of any clots or other scary things in there, which is apparently also good.

So, we have a another scan on Tuesday, and then I'll graduate to the regular OB. (Of which I need to find another, since mine retired.) This is all going by really fast....and really slow....at the same time. Yikes!

Still growing....

Both the beta number and my chest.

First, the beta. It was 375 yesterday. So we're doubling nicely, and in range for a singleton. It's so odd, the numbers this time (182/375) are almost identical to the numbers last time (188/389). Of course, last time was a twin pregnancy that became a singleton....so I guess this means these numbers are stronger if there's only 1 in there? I don't know. I'm just glad they're doing what they're supposed to do.

Secondly, my girls. They already look like they are ready to breastfeed. If this is a harbinger of my body remembering this pregnancy stuff earlier the second time around, I should be sporting maternity clothes in about a week. Not that I'm complaining....but.....it's going to be harder to stay under wraps for long.

Anyway, looking forward to a weekend of naps and 8:30 bedtimes. And I couldn't be more excited about that!

182

That's the beta number. I am in absolute shock. Happy shock, but shock.

Getting the news from our doctor was a hilarious comedy of cell phone errors. The Mr. and I are both working from home today, and my cell phone reception is not so great in my house. So the doctor called about 90 minutes ahead of schedule, I picked up and put him on speaker, and just as he said "Well, I've got some...." the phone went dead. So then I called back from the landline, and got put on a call queue at the clinic. The whole thing probably only lasted 45 seconds, but it felt like AN ETERNITY.

So, anyway, great news. Next blood draw on Friday. Hopefully by then it will have started to sink in a bit....

5dp5dt: A sweaty sort-of mess

So, I have to say I've been doing fairly well so far with the waiting. I had a business trip to Chicago for a couple of days, which was a nice distraction. (Although the two business dinners were VERY PAINFUL without the aid of cocktails.) Today I'm home, and it's really the first time I've started to have the serious "am I or aren't I?" thoughts...as per last time, I'm pretty convinced that I'm not, so I'm starting to mentally prepare myself for the aftermath of Wednesday's blood test. 

Physically, I'm definitely feeling it -- night sweats, abdominal twinges, fatigue, headaches, back aches, sore boobs, the dreaded constipation -- but I know enough now to know that these symptoms mean NOTHING. The progesterone is evil and there's no getting around it. Also, I imagine that my body is going through some caffeine withdrawals -- I was pretty good about cutting back, but I was still having a grande dark roast every morning and a couple of diet Cokes in the afternoon until the day before the transfer. Also, I've been on a fairly strict low-carb diet until 5 days ago, and while the bread/deep dish pizza I've been shoveling into my face in the meantime has certainly been tasty, I'm not sure that my body totally remembers what to do with it yet.

So, anyway, nothing really to report. I'm hopeful but not optimistic. I can't wait for Wednesday but I don't want it to come. Pregnant but not really. A sort-of mess.

Cooking away over here...

All went well today. The thaw went as planned, and the transfer went smoothly. It was really strange being back in the same room we were in a little more than 3 years ago, but once I knew our little guy made it out of deep freeze I was able to relax and really focus on the experience.

I don't know if it's the Valium or what, but I find the whole transfer process to be extremely emotional (in a good way). It's not like there are many silver linings to the infertility experience, but one of them definitely is that you get to watch the exact moment when a little life enters your body. Holding my husband's hand (or gripping, because let's face it, it's still not fun having a speculum, bright light, and three people between your stirruped legs), I was able to really focus my intentions and love my hopefully future child. It was pretty effing cool.

So, we wait. Beta is in 9 days -- August 8th. Hopefully it will go by quickly and uneventfully. Burrow in, little guy.

FET is tomorrow?!?

I'm going in tomorrow for my embryo transfer. I have no idea how this snuck up on me, but with general work and toddler craziness, it did. We're transferring our one and only Day 5 blast at around lunchtime.

I've heard people say how different cycling can be the second time around, and that's certainly been true for me. It's not that I don't want it to succeed just as badly, but I am so effing distracted by the rest of my life that the various preparations (shots, pills, scans, blood draws) are almost an afterthought. Which I think has actually been a good thing in many ways.

To be sure, a FET is a lot simpler than a fresh IVF cycle. No stims, limited monitoring, no retrieval, etc. So I'm sure that's part of it. But I think the bigger part is that the mystery is gone -- I'm not scared of the unknown, other than of course whether or not I'll get pregnant and whether that pregnancy will stick. Even the PIO shots are no big deal -- I've been giving them to myself, which I couldn't even imagine last time around. Is it horrible that I'm just trying to deal with the bigger stuff as it comes? Intellectually I know that not stressing out is not going to negatively affect the outcome (and it may even help), but it still feels weird.

Anyway, if anyone out there is still reading this sorry excuse for a blog, would you mind shooting a couple of good thoughts our way? First, that our little blastie survives the thaw, and then maybe that he/she burrows in there nice and good? 

Thanks -- I'm sure I'll be updating from my horizontal position tomorrow and Tuesday.

Diary of a wimpy Barefoot

So, I have been practically beside myself all week, waiting for my scheduled sonohystogram (a/k/a saline sonogram) this morning. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, this is a procedure sort of like an embryo transfer -- they insert a catheter into your uterus, shoot some water up there, and then look around. In the words of my RE: "Sometimes, after pregnancy and childbirth, things aren't where they were the first time. So we like to take a look."

Sounds a little ominous, but OK!

So, I made the appointment last week and had been in a state of mild panic ever since. Because having a panoply of invasive infertility-related procedures, being pregnant, and giving birth have apparently done nothing to change the fact that I am a giant wimp. I'd even been debating about whether to take one of my leftover embryo transfer Valiums before the procedure-- I finally decided against, as I had some work to get done this afternoon -- but it was close. And I spent an INORDINATE amount of time thinking about it.

(I also spent some time -- BAD IDEA -- Googling the procedure, and read some absolutely horrific accounts. Why did I do this? Have I learned NOTHING?!?)

Anyway, so here's the funny thing. It turns out that I've had this EXACT SAME PROCEDURE before and didn't even remember. The nurse practitioner even showed me the notes in my chart (and the pictures), so I really must have been there! Must have been really traumatic, right?

(This is not to say that it's not traumatic/painful/etc. for some people. But clearly, based on my own past experience, I've been a bit of a drama queen.)

The procedure was no big deal. I mean, I'm never a fan of the speculum, but there was no pain, minimal discomfort, and the NP was very cool (and gentle). I'd also forgotten how neat it is to see all of your bits on the ultrasound. I mean, not quite as interesting as looking at a baby in there, but nice to see that I still have a uterus and 2 ovaries and both seem to still be in the right place.

So, all's well that ends well. Next steps: get my thyroid levels checked again in early June, and then hopefully get the party started with my next cycle. And try to avoid Google in the meantime....

Back in the stirrups again

Well, not really. I have not yet been reacquainted with my old friend, the condom-sheathed transvaginal ultrasound wand. But it's coming.

We had a consult last week with our beloved RE (and I really mean this....I almost squealed when I saw him) to talk about our one lonely frozen embryo and what to do with it. I went into the meeting with very low expectations -- we only have one embryo (well, actually a blastocyst), so I guess I figured we'd give it a go as a sort of inevitable warm-up to a fresh IVF cycle.

As it turns out, this thing could actually work. Apparently my clinic has a 95% thaw survival rate for blasts, and something like a 32% success rate with single-embryo FETs.  It was really the first stat that floored me -- I'd mentally prepared myself to get ready to take a bunch of drugs, and then have the cycle cancelled because our little frozen nugget didn't make it. Which of course could still happen, but it doesn't seem quite so much like certain doom.

The other "exciting" part is how much less physically grueling this cycle will be. No lupron, no stims, no every-other-day ultrasounds of my pendulous ovaries. So, that's a plus.

So, timing. Right after my next cycle starts (probably sometime next week), I'll have the dreaded saline sonogram (apparently not as bad as the HSG, but I'm not anticipating butterfly kisses here). Then, more bloodwork (I've already had some, with not-so-great results, which I'll get to in a later post). Then, on day 2 of the cycle after that (mid-June), I'll start estrogen. Then lining checks for a while, and then the thaw and (hopefully) transfer mid-way through that cycle.

I'm not even going to let myself think about the two week wait. I'd love to get there, of course, but I'm also not excited about being there. If that makes any sense.

One of the last things my RE noted when I "graduated" from his care after last cycle -- and one of the first things he said during our meeting this time around -- was how impressed he was by our positive attitude during treatment. He thinks it makes a difference. I'm not sure that I fully agree, but I am trying to hold on to that thought -- there is no reason for me to expect this NOT to work until it doesn't. And I owe my little frostie all of the good feelings I can muster.

So, muster I will.

Perspective

I was getting ready to sign in to my blog (more like trying to remember HOW to sign into my blog...it's been that long) to start chronicling our upcoming FET cycle...and up popped the heartbreaking news about Ainsley Knepper. I just don't know what to say. Jen, thank you for sharing Ainsley's life with us. I'm so sorry she had to leave you so soon.

More on our situation later...

The most wonderful day of the year

To me, anyway. I love Christmas Eve. I think that Christmas carols sound their absolute best right after the sun goes down tonight....and even though I am, I suppose, an adult, I still feel a coil of anticipation in my stomach. Santa's coming tonight!

This morning, I tried to explain the whole chimney/fireplace/presents thing to the Chicklette, but I'm not sure how much stuck. No matter. The cookies and milk will go out, someone will eat them, and tomorrow morning will end in a giant pile of wrapping paper.

After that, I suppose it's time to turn to the Big Decisions that loom in life....but until then, I'm going to squeeze every last second out of my favorite 24 hours of the holiday season.

Merry Christmas!

Back in the blogging saddle....for the moment, anyway

I don't even know what to say about the fact that it's been 9 months since my last post. It's, um, been a long time!

Life has been crazy. My marriage has been to the brink and back....I won't elaborate too much on the specifics, but let's say we are both in recovery and leave it at that. Things are good -- not great, but stable. And that is more than I would have hoped for a year ago.

The Chicklette turns 2 tomorrow. I could just eat her up -- she is so cute and fun. And challenging. But mostly fun. Being a parent is so much more than I expected it to be -- in all sorts of ways.

What prompted me to post today, mostly, is that it's my 36th birthday. Which reminds me that time and my ovaries are marching on. We have been charting and "trying" and generally living life with the goalie pulled for the last year or so. Unsurprisingly, this has not resulted in anything resembling a pregnancy (despite the numerous suggestions that It! Could! Happen!). It hasn't happened. And that's OK for now (see above re: marital brink).

But I think what this means is that, come January, we (meaning mostly I) will be back in the stirrups. I have so many mixed feelings about this that I don't know where to start. So I might try and start to sort them out here.

Happy holidays to anyone who is still reading this sorry excuse for a blog....may magic and joy be the biggest part of the season for you and your family.

Destruction, thy name is Chicklette

It's really amazing how quickly the Chicklette went from tottering a couple of steps at a time to full-out running around the house. In circles. Repeatedly. Until Mommy and Daddy have both broken a sweat trying to catch up. The cats have taken to hanging out on the breakfast bar, because they can barely outrun her (and are, frankly, too fat and lazy to try more than once a day).

And the mess. Oh, the mess. Parenting lesson of the week: even if you've childproofed a room, it doesn't mean that there still aren't dozens -- maybe hundreds -- of "safe" things that can be moved/thrown/otherwise displaced in a matter of seconds.

The capacity for self-destruction is also high. Just this week, we've had a fat lip (falling face-first onto a toy), a smushed pinky (from exploring the dresser drawers), and a head bonk (from walking in one direction whilst looking in the other). I don't know what this says about me, but I find these types of mishaps quite amusing (aside from the initial tears). It's like having a very small and cute drunk person wandering around all the time. I'm sort of surprised that I'm as calm about the physical injury side of things as I am, but I guess I always figured that the Chicklette was doomed to inherit clutziness from both sides.

In other news, I found an ossified avocado under my car seat this morning -- it must have rolled out of the daycare bag about a month ago, because it was about half its original size and weight. Complete with a little "ripe now!" sticker on the side. Which made me laugh way more than it probably should have.

So that's the news from here. Hope you all have a great weekend!

Using birth control un-ironically

So, one of the interesting decisions we've had to make in the midst of our current family drama is the decision to table for one year any discussions about or efforts towards having another kid. I say "interesting" rather than "awful" because it unexpectedly felt really good to be open and honest about the fact that we are not in a position to bring another person into this family right now. This past month has made me see what being a single parent would look like, and while I'm hoping that won't become the permanent state of things, I just can't stomach the idea of bringing (or trying to bring -- let's not get ahead of ourselves here) another innocent bystander into the current chaos.

Also "interesting" is the way my thinking has changed on the whole age thing -- 6 months ago I was panicked about turning 35 and OMG I need to get pregnant again right now, but the Perspective Fairy seems to have visited me during some night recently and I'm a little more sanguine about the whole thing. Sure, it would be better from a biological standpoint to get the baby party started sooner rather than later, but I've been around the infertility blogosphere enough to know that I could still have a few good years/eggs left in me. Or I could not. Either way, it's out of my hands and I'm at peace with that at this particular moment.


So, we're back to using birth control. Not in the ironic suppression-before-IVF way, but in the actual, hey, sex can make babies and we don't want one of those right now way.

How unexpected is that?

A Tale of Two Ear Tubes

First of all, a non-explanation explanation of where I've been, for anyone who still even reads this thing. My little family is currently going through our biggest challenge yet. I'm not going to say much, because it's not really my story to tell and this is the internets, after all, but I feel as though my home life has completely changed in the last 3 weeks. I think ultimately it will be for the better, but for now we are taking it, as they say, one day at a time. (Surely that will provide a clue.)

Anyway, my saving grace through all of the drama has been my beautiful daughter. The best part of what's been going on (and granted, there's not much competition for that honor) is that I've been getting more quality Chicklette time. And she is just so fun. Walking, talking, blowing kisses ("MmmmmmmmmWAH!"), growing vampire teeth (the two front ones just refuse to come in for some reason), and just generally being awesome.

One not-so-fun thing was the surgery she had last week to insert ear tubes. I thought I'd write about our expereince here, in the event there's anyone out there contemplating a little bilateral myringotomy action.

We've known for a couple of months that we were going for the tubes. The Chicklette's had 5 (or 6, depending on which doctor you ask) ear infections since July, a couple of which required multiple rounds of antibiotics to clear. That's a lot of drugs, not to mention office visits. But the thing that truly motivated our pediatrician (and us) to get a consult from the ENT was that the Chicklette ALWAYS had fluid in her ears, even when they weren't infected. We'd read and learned from family experience that this was likely causing a hearing deficit that could affect speech development.

In we went for the consult, and then to the hearing test which confirmed that yes, the Chicklette was definitely having some issues. So we scheduled the surgery (or, as I liked to call it, the "procedure").

So, I don't think I need to tell any parent out there that scheduling surgery for your child is SCARY. You know, the whole "please read these forms and sign them and oh no of course your child isn't going to die from the anesthesia or bleed out of her ear but we have to put it in there JUST IN CASE" thing. Good times. But we knew it was the right thing to do, so I sucked it up and put myself on a Grey's Anatomy hiatus for a few weeks.

I will preface the actual surgery story by saying that everything turned out JUST FINE. But in case anyone's curious about the process, here's how it went down. We got to the surgery center at 6:30 a.m., with a tired but generally happy baby. I had been nervous about the night before -- she couldn't have food or milk after midnight, and then only clear fluids until 5:30 a.m. Luckily, no wakeups that night and no screaming for milk in the morning. We checked in, and then headed back to the pre-op area. We were at a facility that specializes in children's surgery, so there were toys and stuff to amuse her highness. When the time came for her to go in (after the signing of many more frightening forms), the nurse whisked her away quickly. Not a peep. She was done 15 minutes later, confused and cranky from the anesthesia (administered via mask, not IV), with a dollop of heartbreaking blood dried on her ear. But she was fine. We got discharged within about a half hour, headed home, and spent the day at home. She took a 3-hour nap and woke up good as new. I swear, kids are resilient.

The doctor told us that they had pulled a LOT of very thick fluid out of her ears, and actually looked mildly skeeved by it. Is it wrong that I was sort of proud of being able to gross out a doctor? Even if only vicariously through my child.

Anyway, almost a week out and she's fine. We'll have our post op on Thursday, and hopefully she won't have any issues with infection. I've already noticed her responding to things she didn't before (and she actually startled at a noise yesterday, which I've NEVER seen her do), so it feels like the decision is already paying off. She'll have another hearing test in a month or so.

So, that's the story. Happy to answer any more specific questions anyone has if they're contemplating taking the ear tube plunge.

Baby steps

I can't believe it's been almost a month since I last posted. Well, I guess I can. The holidays and their attendant chaos have required some recovery time. And, to be honest, I've just been generally having a rough time. We're still working through some Marital Discord in the Barefoot household, and I've been having a bit of a pity party about it. Hopefully a temporary one -- because I'm losing serious patience with my sad sack self.

In happier news, the Chicklette is cuter than evah, and even took some first steps yesterday and today (both of which I missed, thank you business travel). I am relieved -- all of her little friends have been zooming around on two feet for quite some time, and I was starting to get a complex. We are full-on into table food, which has been messy and also a fun introduction to the many different textures of poop. And I'm pretty sure that the Chicklette has either a) developed her own language (baby genius!), or b) is being visited at night by aliens, because she is talking a mile a minute, very authoritatively, in a language that is very clearly not English.

So, life rolls along. Mostly good, some bad, but always interesting. And if anyone out there is still reading, happy new year!

Happy Birthday, Chicklette!

One year ago today, give or take an hour, I was grunting and pushing you into the world through a happy epidural haze. While the details are blurry, I will never forget the feeling of seeing you -- my little miracle -- and holding you against the OUTSIDE of my stomach for the first time.

These past few days, I've watched through misty eyes as you've eaten (well, smashed) your first birthday cake, ripped your first piece of wrapping paper, worn your first birthday hat, and taken your first step (even though I'm pretty sure it was an accident, and was really ONLY one step, followed by a wipeout).

I'm sure that your second year will be full of even greater adventures, but it's hard right now to imagine how it's going to top your first. Even with the challenges, it's been the best year of MY life. I love you with all the love that it's possible to love.

Happy Birthday!