What if?

I have been so wrapped up in the afterglow of finally having a decent appointment with the new doctor that I haven't stopped to think about anything else.

Until now.

The ramifications of the testing we are doing hit me like a ton of bricks as I sat at work last night.

The "what if's" started flooding my brain.

The blood I had drawn yesterday is at the lab being tested for prolactin levels, TSH and FSH levels. He did mention yesterday that if my FSH level is too high, it would indicate low ovarian function, or worse...that my ovaries have no viable eggs left at all. He said he didn't think that was the case, as I seem to ovulate when I'm taking fertility drugs. But...

WHAT IF?

What if it shows I have shitty ovarian function? What if it shows that I have no eggs left at all? What if it shows that my ovaries are just useless lumps of tissue muddling up my innards down there?

He also recommended a semen analysis for Matt to check sperm count, morphology and motility. Matt of course has the male ego thing going on of "there's nothing wrong with me or my swimmers, we're SUPERHUMAN!" I believe he assumes that since he already has a kid, that everything is a-ok down there. That over the last nine years since his kid was conceived nothing could have changed. But...

WHAT IF?

What if everything is NOT ok? What if he has low count? What if they're horribly deformed? What if they can't swim? What if there are other abnormalities that can't be fixed? What if it shows zero sperm? What if the tooth infections he's had problems with on and off over the past few years have affected his sperm and there are issues we can't work around?

What if? WHAT IF???

It's almost surreal. After four and a half years of dealing with infertility and trying desperately to get pregnant, we've never hit this particular stage. The stage where we could have definitive answers that there could be more problems than just my PCOS. Don't get me wrong, I'm not borrowing trouble/putting the cart before the horse/counting my chickens/crossing my bridges before I get to them or whatever other stupid cliche you could imagine. I'm simply worried and scared shitless that after four and a half years of thinking it's just me...maybe it's not. We're closer than ever to getting answers and moving forward in treatment. But, I can't help but feel deep down in the pit of my stomach that maybe we're also closer to the end of the road. Closer to being told we will never have a biological child of our own.

I can't help but worry. I can't help but be scared. I can't help but be just a little sad.

The last thing Dr. G said to me as I left yesterday was "Don't lose hope. I know it's hard. We'll figure it out."

I'm trying to hold onto hope...but after this long...sometimes it seems futile.

It's about time...

Thanks to everyone for the well wishes on the appointment with the new doctor.

My appointment went very well, and I'm actually quite relieved. It is a busy practice, but there are seven doctors there, not just two like my last one. Although it was pretty much a revolving door in the reception area, they were only 10 minutes behind my scheduled appointment time getting me in to see the doctor.

Everyone at the office was excellent; very polite, efficient, respectful...they actually had larger sized blood pressure cuffs and gowns in the exam room! And the doctor...wow, was he fantastic! He came in to speak with me before the actual undressing and groping session, and he put me at ease right away. He's a younger guy, very easy to talk to, and very knowledgeable about PCOS and infertility. I think I finally found a great fit with a doctor!!! We spoke at length about my basic medical history, our TTC history, and my PCOS history. Long story short, he gave me a prescription for my Metformin, drew some blood to check TSH and FSH levels, and also recommended a semen analysis for Matt. He said (which I agree with 100% and have been trying to get Matt to agree with for years) that we could do all the drugs we wanted for me and run all kinds of tests and do all sorts of procedures on me, but if what is coming out of him is bad or has no swimmers...we're wasting everyone's time and money. Kind of a "well, DUH" moment, but it makes perfect sense, and just reiterates what I've been trying to say for the longest time. He does not want me to take any more fertility drugs or have any other procedures done until we get the results of my bloodwork and Matt's SA. I'm good with that.

The only bad thing was that he doesn't prescribe Femara. I was very interested in trying it, but he said that the research he's seen doesn't convince him of it's benefits in the fertility arena. I told him that I had done a lot of reading about it and that I am constantly researching infertility and PCOS, and he was actually ok with that. I think he liked that I was proactive about it, and actually knew what I was talking about and was knowledgeable about my own issues.

All in all, on a scale of 1 to 10, this appointment gets a shining 9!

Happy Independence Day!

It’s been a while since I’ve been in the mood to post, so I thought I’d take advantage of my weekend off to play catch up.

I posted a while back that I finished up the baby knits that I was making for my friend. Well, she received them last week, so I thought I’d show off what I made.

This blanket is a variation on the feather and fan pattern that I’m so fond of. I’ve made several blankets with different variations of the pattern. It’s so pretty and versatile, but kind of dainty and feminine…but she’s having a boy…so I made the blanket mainly in stockinette with accents of the feather and fan pattern to make it more suitable for a boy. I was very happy with the way it turned out. I also made a quick hat to go along with it and bought a cute little pair of booties and a dinosaur sun suit for the little bugger.

She told me that her older son was quite distraught when he found out he couldn’t wear the “rarrr shirt”. I got a kick out of that!

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I decided to fire my ob/gyn after the appointment from hell. I wrote him a lengthy letter detailing what went on at my appointment. You can read the letter here if you like. I have no idea how it’s going to go over…part of me wants him to call and grovel and beg me not to leave. Part of me thinks he won’t give two shits if I leave or not. Regardless of what happens, I spoke my mind and stood up for myself. That in itself is a major accomplishment for me. I talk a good game when it comes to being assertive, but I am the most non-confrontational person you will ever want to meet. I’m pretty much the “take it on the chin” kind…until you really piss me off like this did. Then you better watch the F out, because I can turn from meek to pit bull on raw steak in about 2.2 seconds.

I then promptly set out to find a new gynecologist. You’ve got to love Facebook for these kinds of things. I posted a message that I was looking for a really good ob/gyn and within minutes, seven of my friends emailed me with recommendations. I called a few of them and took the earliest appointment that I could get. My appointment is July 6. As in Monday. This Monday. I’m hopeful, but not getting my hopes up, about the appointment. I received the paperwork packet to fill out and will be taking that and my Femara research to my appointment. I’m sure (at least I’m hoping) that he will want to do some testing to confirm my PCOS diagnosis and get current hormone levels. I’m also going to request a complete thyroid workup (dead horse, beaten) as well. And, if it doesn’t go well with him, then I’ve got several other names as backups!

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I’ve also been working feverishly on my Renaissance sweater. It’s knitted in panels, and I am almost done with the third of the seven light green panels. When I get those done, I’ll have six or seven more connecting panels to do with the dark green yarn to complete it. The only bad thing about the panels I’m working now, is that since they’re knitted in stockinette, they have decided to curl themselves into long skinny tubes of knitterly glory. I don't have any pics of them yet, but I will once I get them all done. I hope once they’re blocked, they will hold their shape long enough to knit the other panels to them. I am so excited to be working on something for myself for once. Not that I don’t love making things for other people…I most certainly do. I’m always happy to create a handcrafted gift for someone; it’s a very fulfilling experience for me. This is just the first time I’ve been able to find a pattern I like that is written specifically for fluffy women. It’s near impossible to find a plus sized knitting pattern that is flattering and feminine and doesn’t resemble a rumpled potato sack.

I’m so glad that I’ve been able to set aside so much time for knitting lately. I have made it a priority as my daily “do one thing just for me”. I love knitting. It’s sometimes better therapy than therapy for me. I love seeing something of substance and beauty emerge from a ball of yarn and knowing that it came from my needles. I am a pretty decent knitter, however I am not an adventurous knitter by any means. I’m not one to experiment with a lot of new patterns (ok…I find one I like and make it again and again and again and ag…well, you get the point). I’m deathly afraid of cables. It took me two years after learning to knit to muster up the bravado to attempt sock knitting! (in retrospect I know there was nothing to be afraid of…it just takes getting the technique down and they’re a piece of cake from then on. I’m sure it will be the same with cables). There are several patterns I’ve seen that I would love to make, but they involve cabling and as I said…unnatural fear of cables. I know that once I dive in and attempt it and learn it, I’ll be fine. It’s just like everything else in my life; I drag my heels and go kicking and screaming at the prospect of change and new ventures. I’m definitely a creature of habit, and I like my routines. I have particular ways of doing things, I do them in a particular order when I do them…from taking a shower to doing laundry to the way I do dishes and clean the house. I drive my husband nuts, but it’s the only way I can function. If my routine gets thrown off, I’m off kilter for the rest of the day. I’ve always been that way. It amazes me sometimes how much my knitting is a reflection of my life, or my view on life, I should say.

But…that’s another post for another day!

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I hope all my American friends have had a safe and enjoyable holiday weekend!!!

In italiano, per favore...

It's here! It's here!!! I've been waiting two weeks to show off my newest purchase and begin a new endeavor!!! I'm so excited!

I've had "learn to speak Italian" on my list of dreams for a very long time. It's up there with "have a baby" and "swim with dolphins" and "take my husband to see the ocean for the first time". None of the other dreams are in the cards at this moment in time, but for about $8 on amazon.com...the learning to speak Italian was!

So, while I might not be Italian by birth...hopefully someday when I take my dream vacation to Italy, I might sound like I belong there!

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In other news, I have finished the baby knit for my friend! I finished it up last night, and now just need to ship it to her. I will post pictures of it, but not until I'm sure she has received it, because I don't want to ruin the surprise!

Of course...finishing that project means that I get to start on #1 of two self-knits!!! I'm so stoked! I believe I'm going to make the "renaissance-esque" looking sweater first. I probably should make the short sleeved one first, but I'm so in love with the long sleeved one that I want to do it first. Of course...it will probably take me til winter to make it anyway...so it's probably a good idea! I did my test swatch a couple of weeks ago when I decided I was going to do it, and got gauge on needles only one size bigger than the pattern calls for. Not bad, since I'm a pretty tight knitter and I tend to need needles about 2-3 sizes bigger all the time. I can't wait to start casting on for the first sweater panel!!!

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My house organization projects are still going well. I am 99% complete with the deep clean/reorganize phase. All that's left is to organize the computer area of the office and move my sewing machine into a usable space. It took the better part of a couple of weeks to get everything in order, and I'm proud to say that the day-to-day "maintaining" the clean is going well too. That's always been my biggest downfall. I used to do a huge clean, then over the course of the week, crap would just pile up again and get out of control. I now have a printed task list taped to the fridge of tasks to be done daily, weekly, bi-weekly and monthly. I'm kind of odd I guess...I like to see all those little checkmarks all in their places at the end of the day. Makes me feel like I've accomplished something. And it's so nice to know that when I go to bed in the evening, there won't be dishes staring me in the face when I wake up, all the trash cans will be emptied, the bathroom has been wiped down, the table and counters are cleaned off, and the laundry is in it's proper place. Now if I could get hubby to stay on top of doing the laundry for me, that would be great!

Well, I guess that's all for now...just a quickie update post. Have a great day!

Buon giorno!

I shaved my legs for THIS???

I mean seriously.

Today was supposed to be my yearly gynecologist visit…you know, the one where he gets to be all up close and personal with my girly bits with the duck bill and scraper of death. This was also the appointment that I was going to ask him to represcribe my Metformin, and I was going to ask for the Femara so we could start seriously TTC again.

My appointment was at 10:30.

I waited about 30 minutes in the waiting room, which isn’t unusual for this doctor. He’s a very popular ob/gyn in our area. I have been seeing him for ten years, and I really like him, that’s the only reason I keep going to him.

I finally get called back to the exam room, give my lovely urine sample and what the fuck do I see? I’m freaking spotting. Lovely. I’m over a week late, and fucking AF picks today of all days to start to show her ugly face? Nice.

I went back in and told the medical assistant what was going on, and she told me that it was fine, as long as it’s only spotting he can still do the pap smear. Ok...if he wants to ride the red river, that's fine by me. It's not like I'm a newbie to all this...I've had so many CD3 dildocam wandings that I could probably do them myself.

So she checks my blood pressure (which was good actually, given that my anxiety level is through the roof by this time from waiting all this time stuck in amongst 12 varying-degrees-of-pregnant women. Why do they insist on making infertility patients wait in the same room as pregnant women???) But I digress.

I don my lovely 5 sizes too small wouldn’t fit a six year old paper half shirt and useless drape they oh so graciously offered up and planted my fat ass on the exam table.

About 20 minutes pass.

I grab the book out of my purse and begin to read.

Another 20 minutes pass.

The med assistant comes in to tell me that the doctor had to run upstairs for a delivery and he should be back in about 10 minutes. Um, ok.

Another 20 minutes pass.

I text back and forth with my husband letting him know what’s going on, and to try to calm myself down from the impending anxiety attack that is about to happen.

And another 20 minutes pass.

I decide that I’m giving him another five to ten minutes and calling it quits.

Another 10 minutes pass.

Did you keep track with me? That’s TWO HOURS I waited for this asshat.

I hop down off the table, get re-dressed, and walk out to the reception area.

The med assistant and the receptionists look at me like I’ve grown another head during the time I’ve been there…and I do a quick check to make sure I don’t have a booger hanging out or haven’t inadvertently put my bra on over my shirt. Neither was the case, so I need to make sure when I get home that extra head hasn't sprouted again.

The conversation that followed went a little something like this:

Me: I’m leaving, I don’t time to wait for the doctor anymore.

MA: I’m really sorry, I really thought he’d be back by now, it must have been a more difficult delivery than he thought. I’m so sorry.

Me: I just don’t understand why I’ve had to wait TWO HOURS to see the doctor. People who came in after me got seen before me, and now I have to take another day out of my schedule and waste a month of trying to get pregnant because of this.

MA: You’ve been waiting how long?

Me: TWO HOURS. My appointment was at ten thirty.

MA: Well, he had a patient with cancer this morning and that was a long consultation, and now he had to deliver this baby…

Me: You know, I understand that these things come up. I do. However, don’t you think you could have told me an hour ago about this so I could have rescheduled my appointment? I am a patient too, and just because I don’t have cancer, which you wouldn’t know anyway because he wasn’t here to do my pap smear to find out if I do have cancer, and just because I can’t have a baby doesn’t mean my time isn’t valuable also. I am a patient with a medical condition that I needed to get prescriptions for, and I have a right to see the doctor at the time my appointment is for, not two to three hours later.

MA: I know, and I’m really sorry. We can reschedule you now for something next week?

Me: You know, I’ll call you when I have the time. And I don’t want my insurance charged for this visit either, since I never saw the doctor.

MA: It won’t be, I will make sure of that. Again I’m really sorry.

I storm out of the office, and as I'm walking down the hall I start to feel really bad because it really wasn't the MA's fault...she was just the one standing in the way of my seething anger as it spewed out of my mouth. :(

I am so mad I could just spit nails. This is ridiculous.

Yes, I’m not a heartless bitch, I do understand a cancer consultation and birth take precedence over my piddly-ass little pap smear and infertility consultation. But it’s just another way that I feel so fucking insignificant because I can’t reproduce. Push your infertility patient back two hours because you have to go deliver a baby. Twist that knife while you have it embedded in my back, won’t you?

If I didn’t like him so much, I would switch doctors. I drive over 30 miles to see him because I have a history with him and I really like him. There are doctors much closer that I could see, but I take the extra time to see him because I like him. I am giving him one more chance. If something like this happens again, I’m demanding my records and not looking back.

I’m so frustrated. Here I was ready to ask for the Femara so we could really TTC again (I even stocked up on ovulation kits and a brand new basal thermometer just for the occasion!), and now it’s going to be pushed back at least a month again. I had my Femara.com voucher for a free 30 day prescription, which if he kept me on the 2.5 dose that most start out at, would give us 4-6 months worth of Femara to try with. I am just crushed. Two hours waiting naked, spotting on the exam table, trying desperately to cover my “little more than voluptuous” frame with a gown the size of Barbie clothes and I’m no closer to assisted TTC than when I walked out the door this morning.

Did I really shave my legs for THIS???

(I do have to say that my husband was sooo sweet and understanding about the whole deal. He even went to buy me flowers and Dove chocolate to try to make me feel better! He couldn’t find flowers, but that bag of Dove promises is calling my name!)

Hope you all are having a better day than me.

Tuesday's Moments of Beauty

The welcome home hug from my husband after a long tiring day at work and a mandatory "anger management in the workplace" class.

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Coming home to an “almost ready” dinner (Matt did the prep work, I just popped it in the oven when I got home to bake for 10 minutes).

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Purchasing and hanging the new (and on sale!) curtains for the bedroom.

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Keeping on track with my daily "decluttering" plan.

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One and a half solid hours of knitting time.

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How peaceful I feel tonight.

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The reed diffuser fragrance bottle I bought today. MMMMMmmmmm.

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My parents are the BEST!

And I'm not just saying that because they're mine...they truly are amazing people. I could go on for years about all the things they have done for me over the course of my 35 years on this planet...and someday I just might. But for now, I'll just give you a picture of their cute little smiling faces.
Don't you just want to squeeze them? Ugh, they're so adorable!

Today I got a call early in the morning (7:30...yes, that's EARLY for me!) from my Mom saying that they were at a yard sale and that she came across a tv cabinet and wanted to know if I wanted it. Well...5 minutes later she called back and left another message that "never mind...I bought it for you! Hope you want it, we'll be over later this afternoon to deliver it!"

I should have taken a picture of the old behemoth entertainment center we had in the living room, but we already took it out. But...here's the new one.

One of the main things I love about this one...

the doors CLOSE! I have been wanting one like this for a while...that way when we're not watching TV, everything looks so much nicer, more orderly. (what? did I just say ORDERLY? Holy cow, I'm turning all crazy in my old age!)

Of course, since this one is about 1/2 the size of the old one, and there obviously aren't a ton of shelves...that means that I now have to find somewhere for all our collectibles. My ladybug collection, candles, and Matt's Hot Wheels. His will be moved downstairs to the old entertainment center (he's using it as a "gaming" area)...but I have no idea what we're going to do with all of my stuff...or all the DVD's I had to move out of the old one! We'll come up with something, I'm sure. As long as I had a spot for my Willow Tree Angels and a couple of our wedding photos, I was happy!