One is the Loneliest Number

No good news from the Pamplemousse household.

Despite the apparent 4 mature follicles, only one egg was retrieved. I gather that retrieval was very difficult and I am still bleeding 24 hours later to prove it. I came round in the recovery room, still wearing the oxygen mask.

Our one plucky little egg was ICSI'd but did not make it. It was doing well yesterday afternoon but by this morning, it had expired.

One IVF cycle not making it to transfer is unlucky but two...just devastating. This is pretty much the end of the road for us.

The Long and Winding Road

This week has been fucked...absolutely fucked.

Tuesday's appointment with the wand monkey brought about talk of cancellation and talk from me of jumping off the nearest bridge. I had 4 follicles at 10,11,12 and 14 mm respectively.

Previous cycles have usually meant that only the 14mm would progress. I was in such a state that if I had blogged about it, all there would have been was an hysterical ululation of pain and grief so great that dogs would have heard it.

I told everyone that I was done and finished with IVF now and for ever and the final U/S on Friday was just a nail in the coffin for formalities sake.

On Friday, a miracle happened and angels danced across the U/S monitor in the form of 16, 18, 18 and 19mm follicles. Four! Twice the amount of last cycle! I sobbed and sobbed as the nurse told me trigger Saturday night and retrieval Monday.

I know it is pathetic in terms of follicle numbers but my ovaries are fucked. All I care about is having at least one to transfer. It really is not much to ask. Please, pretty please?

Giddy Up, Wee Cuddies!

Aaah, 13 days of stims and I have finally lost my mind.

Shall I tell you about the night I was trying to sniff Synarel and could not understand why very little was emanating from the evil little nozzle? I was pressing it and pressing it and the stuff started running down my hand. Turned out I had not taken the cap off the nozzle. Oooh-kaaaay!

What about the morning I woke up and got out of bed and looked for my Snoopy slippers? Gotta love those Snoopy slippers to protect my little piggies from the cold bathroom tiles. Anyhoo, I could only find one. I knew I had taken two off the previous night and I always leave them sitting lined up, ready for some hot slipper action at any time. I hunted high and low and still could only find one so I opted for some socks in the interim, whilst almost in tears at the indignity. 3 hours later whilst making the bed - voila, one Snoopy slipper carefully tucked under my pillow as if thoughts of Snoopy babies were to be conjured up overnight. Beagle, anyone?

What about my newly-found addiction to Rock Star INXS? No rational thought enters my mind when I am glued to the box. Mr P could be dancing about and shaking his tailfeather in his Old Navy boxers and I would not tear my eyes away from Dave Navarro. Oh, and that Deanna is really hot too! And that Mig boy!! Yummy. Well, he is Australian. I was sobbing when he played "Baby, I Love Your Way".

Those hormones gonna love you long time.

Cometh Friday..cometh the wandmonkey

My wee cuddies of follicles are doing their usual slow and steady stately progress after 8 days of stims. I stimmed for 16 days last cycle and I don't think it is going to be any different this time round.

This may be impossible for all you OCD-like infertile info junkies to grasp but I have asked the nurses not to give me any info on follicle sizes or follicle numbers or E2 levels. Yes, I know! How bizarre!

It helps me maintain an even keel and keep the stress levels down though. Last cycle was such a rollercoaster of "Wahey! 10 follicles" then "Sob! only 2 follicles".

I cannot bear it this time round. Even if it is only 2 follicles this time round, I am prepared for the worst. I am fervently hoping for better but I am positively realistic this time round.

So today things are fine, continue with the same dose of stims and back in Tuesday. That is all I know.

It is all I want or need to know.

Holy Herbal Tea, Batman!

The sage man on the Celestial Seasonings honey lemon ginseng tea box is giving me inspiration. Yes, I am deluded.

The Mongolian-looking wise man sayeth: "A gem cannot be polished without friction nor a (wo)man perfected without trials".

I am sure I could grow a handlebar moustache like his too!

Talking of trials, Internal Spring is going through some trials of her own right now and I am sure she would appreciate some kind thoughts sent in her direction. I just tried to link to her blog but I am not sure if she has taken it down. A, if you read this, please take care! You know you can e-mail if you need a friend, kay?

All Quiet on the Ovarian Front

Baseline yesterday was good...no cysts or any untoward activity! I should think not, after all this time down-regulating. They have been beaten into submission by the chemical cosh. Lining was a measly 3.7mm.

I have started stims tonight. Goodbye Gonal-f..hello Menopur (Repronex to our US girls). The mixing is a bloody bugger though. I miss the multidose Gonal-f and ease of use. Never mind, we will see how it goes.

I have been meditating a lot to clear my mind and prepare for this round. I am a natural ART pessimist and I have to work hard to open my mind to the possibility of it working.

I am prepping my iPod with lots of soothing music..Joni Mitchell, Van the Man, Carole King, Blue Nile. If things go pear-shaped, I can trot out more raucous, vicious music to soothe my savage breasts.

Likewise the chick flicks roster is growing...Fried Green Tomatoes, Sleepless in Seattle, Gosford Park, Something's Gotta Give, Manon des Sources, lots of Woody Allen. Some films I have seen before and are v. old favourites and others are new. Of course, I also have the Hallmark channel with sappy films wall-to-wall.

It is the calm before the storm.

Recipe for mush

Mush, mush...nothing else going on in my head. No impetus to blog and it would just be shit, the same old shit. See IVF#1.

T minus 2 days before the real shit hits the fan. I am going to open a book now on how little eggs will be retrieved. See what happens as soon as I start typing - negativity flows!

I am pretending to be social this weekend with friends and family in order to get it out of the way and spend the next few weeks in my jim-jams. However, that lovely plan is already fucked before I start as I have friends from London arriving next weekend for 4-5 days! OMG! The dates have been fixed for ages but luckily the IVF co-ordinator in all her fuck-ups at least managed to make it that I was not on bed rest. Small, tiny, miniscule mercies. My friends do know that I will be stimming at least so they will make excuses for the lack of cooking, cleaning and general cheeriness.

The one bright spot to this week was signing up for the Am*zon version of Netfl*x so it is going to be wall-to-wall chick-flicks for the next few weeks (Ha! Mr P doesn't realise I keep pushing the zombie horror flicks to the bottom of the list!)

I also bought All About Eve yesterday on DVD cos even us snarks can learn something at the spiky elbow and knee of Bette Davis.

Roamin' in the gloamin'

Well, apparently, I am not quite Celtic enough to have any luck in the lottery. An Irish woman did indeed win the whole shebang. Begorrah!

Ah well, nothing else for it but keep on turning up at the place where they have to take you in - work.

This week I am almost maintaining my sanity by watching the new series of The Shield and Deadwood. Lovely-jubbly! I don't know who I would shag first - Seth Bullock or Vic Mackey. Decisions, decisions!

There is also a Scottish historian - Neil Oliver? - on the fascinating programme Coast (a trip around the coastline of Great Britain with tales of nautical derring-doo, petrified underwater forests and lighthouse horror stories). I cannot wait for them to get round to my area of the coast. Anyhoo, he is particularly scrummy in a demented Scottish Blackadder fashion. Not only that, it is on TWICE a week! AND even yet better news, TV fans, Lost is starting here finally on 10th August with the yummy Charlie from Party of Five and the scrawny hobbit from LOTR. Hmm, I am starting to think the Synarel is maybe not suppressing all my hormones!

I have been really making an effort this week to overcome the blahs and the best way for me is to get outside. Not just in the confines of my garden but past the garden gate! Last weekend, Mr P and I went hill-walking up the Glen where he was born and brought up. Nothing too strenuous but a lot of it uphill (as you would expect), the sun shone on the little loch where we stopped for a picnic and the cobwebs were generally dusted from around my lugs.

The best bit about where we live is that you can drive 20 miles in one direction for the Glens or if you want something a little more salty, 5 miles in the other direction is the North Sea. Usually a battleship grey and accompanied by a stinging NE wind, the vista along our favourite empty beaches cannot be beaten. Yes, you can visit the crowded ones for pitch'n'putt golf, ice cream and fish suppers but I prefer the ones where there is no signpost to the car park and you almost have to know the secret handshake with the locals to get to them. All this, in an effort to keep the hordes away. Ha, it doesn't work in my case. Though I do take home my litter.

The only thing now is that I used to envy the families with toddlers but lately, it is the cute doggies that catch my eye. Bristly little terriers with an eye for the main chance. They look like they give their owners a run for their money but endless hours of fun too.

7 more days of Synarel - please put me out of my misery. Make a donation to the "Straitjacket with the built-in TV" Fund now.