So the HCG trigger did indeed give my ovary a nudge. I set the follicle free on Friday,  a good three days earlier than I would normally in a medicated cycle.

So now it’s down to the one week wait. I didn’t test the HCG out daily, I gave it a test a few days ago and it was still coming up positive. So who knows? I am being pretty loosey-goosey with all things fertility right now. Temping, and doing progesterone pods, but not meditating daily, not doing yoga (which I do actually want to do, I need to get on that)and just kinda seeing what happens.

And things have moved on the adoption front as well. We have moved from applying to be foster parents to now being licensed. Our application has been accepted and now it all gets moving. The home study begins in just under two weeks. We will have so many things to fix and to buy and organize and OH MY GOD.

They might let me be somebody’s mom!


Apparently I needed a break.

I was fine. Until I wasn’t fine.
We had good timing in October, coinciding with our 18th wedding anniversary. And then I swear there was a smudge on a wondfo test. My temps were the highest they have been, my luteal phase was nice and long. I was really hopeful. And then the next day there was no smudge and then the cycle was over.

And it all kind of settled in then, the sadness for my loss. So much sadness.

We did an HSG and my left tube is hosed. Which is also sad. There is nothing to be done for it. It could have been in spasm, but since that is where my egg implanted it’s not likely. The HSG itself was just…ugh.
This is pretty much my cervix when it comes to anyone needing to poke at it:

And it was difficult. I had to pull my knees up to my chest and contort while they poked and poked and poked. Finally they got it, it was up super high facing back AND to the side. Hiding. They had to pull it down with the tenaculum (google defines that as a surgical clamp with sharp motherfucking hooks in it. I may have added a word there….)
But I managed to not fart while being literally in the yoga pose to make you fart and they got it done. And as evidence of how many fucks I don’t give at this point, I didn’t even know there was a guy in the room the whole time. The guy behind the screen doing something with the controls for the xray machine. Oh well.

So then we did all my preconception labs again. My AMH is about the same, my estrogen was lower than expected for PCOS, but nothing said that I am in perimenopause. So since those were OK I finally decided to have the draw for the Counsyl genetic screen kit done and send it off. I can’t remember anyone in my family having anything genetic. I figured I’d send it off and nothing too major would pop up and away we would go.


Of course it’s not that easy. I carry the gene for Congenital Defect Glycosylation type 1A. It’s like the shit jackpot. An enzyme processing disorder, profound developmental problems, infant death from multiple organ failure, stroke or seizure like episodes, etc. There is no treatment,  babies who are mildly affected are the ones I just described, babies who are severely affected are stillborn. We met with the genetic counselor. The Man’s blood was drawn and sent off and we are waiting for the genotyping on the 16th chromosome pair to now if he is a carrier or not. In the meantime, we wait and this cycle is now on day 49 with no egg on the horizon for me. Last cycle was natural and I ovulated.

In the meantime, we have begun the process of becoming foster parents so that we can adopt from the foster system. We went to a meeting, we sent in our survey, and we just got the application in the mail last week.

We are ready to be parents and it doesn’t really matter how we get there.

The shittiest club

So, my RE left the practice in July, the week that I had my miscarriage. I met with the woman who replaced him last Friday. She wants new labs and an HSG to make sure the tube is clear and there isn’t anything in there that will cause a problem in the future. They gave me the procedure codes to call and check for insurance coverage for it. Generally, it’s a fertility procedure, but mine is more medical since it could head off a second ectopic and its complications.

Much to my surprise, it looks like they will cover it. There was a moment where the woman helping me on the phone said that generally they don’t cover it until three miscarriages, but my age could make it more necessary. And from her experience it’s good to have it checked. It took a second but then I realized she meant her personal experience. I gave her an invisible fist bump of solidarity down the phone line for being in the miscarriage club.

I know they aren’t going to cover the follow up semen analysis from my husband tomorrow morning, but that test is like $65, we can swing it. The HSG is about $2k, though. I’d prefer to not get surprised by that kind of bill.

The glamour never ends.

I’m 9 or 10 days past ovulation, the hot flashes are back, but not quite as bad. Or I am adapting a bit to them and trying to plan things better. Had my annual physical on Monday with my GP and she decided since I have had a bajillion ultrasounds that she didn’t need to do a pelvic if I didn’t feel that there were any changes or had any signs of infection. I was thrilled because the progesterone suppositories are just irritating and uncomfortable.

The progesterone queasiness seems to peak in the morning this time. So this morning I woke up, temped, went to the bathroom and then made my usual protein shake for breakfast.
Then I went to lay down for 15 minutes to deposit the morning pod and listen to the Circle and Bloom meditationy thing.

And Marge the cat comes in and flops down against me on the bed. He  (yes, he) is a 17-18 lb cat so he packs a punch. And I am imagining the blanket, the perfect blanket from childhood and taking deep breaths and then I realize that the rotten cat has basically just dutch-ovened me. Obviously I got up and GTFO of there and left him to wallow in his wretchedness. But I swear I was on the verge of horking for the next hour. GROSS.


So the first thing that clued me in to being knocked up was that I was suddenly hot. Like boiling hot. All the time. I mean like go to fetch some groceries and be in full on dripping sweat in 5 minutes. It took a month after the pregnancy ended for that symptom to simmer the hell down.

I ovulated this week. And now I’m hot again. Just the progesterone, I know, but I don’t want to be hot hot hot. Well, I mean I can deal if it means pregnancy, but aside from that. it’s so annoying.

Well, this sucks.

I have cramps with a vengeance and it’s a new cycle for me. I have the worst acne breakout that I have had in over 20 years. I have like 3 pimples on my back, too. BACKNE.

I am cranky and weepy and bitchy. Mostly I’m in pain and can’t take anything because my liver is a total shit. Which is ridiculous, because I am tee-total and have been for about 18 years! And when I did drink I had about 2 drinks a year. A YEAR. And this is how that fucker treats me? Whatever.

I have errands to run, but I feel too shitty and gross right now. I averted a crisis by finding some slightly freezer burned tater tots in the freezer. They are sweet potato tots, but whatevs, I’m gonna make tot-chos out of them anyway.

So here is the plan for cycle 16: tomorrow I begin letrozole for days 3-7, every other day sexins shall commence, peeing on all the OPKS, then I have a midcycle ultrasound that will cost me $500 shiny goddamn dollars. And if the follicles look OK? HCG trigger shot, which is new for me, so far the letrozole has released the bowling ball sized follicles on its own. After temps confirm that I dropped the egg I do 14 days of progesterone suppositories. There it is, the plan for the cycle. All the cray cray and lack of spontaneity that it takes.

The waiting game.

I’m in the TWW, 6DPO and feeling warm again. And my boobs kinda hurt. I’m still temping in the morning and it’s been pretty decent and steady. I did not have breast tenderness last cycle, it could just be from the bobble in the meds for the hyperprolactinemia. Except that if I had too much prolactin I would not have ovulated on meds, let alone by myself. So. That’s what is going on.

And I am having  major hair shed from the hormonal roller coaster. So I went and got a few inches cut off today to help hide the loss. Adulting. Like a motherfucker.