PIO? PI-No!

Yesterday, I zipped in and zipped out of the office for another blood draw before yet another PIO shot. At home, I drained the very last of a vial of PIO for the shot. In my big basket o' meds on my dresser, I have one more vial with about 1cc left -- barely a half dose. Another shot would mean another refill. Ugh.

I completely forgot about the callback today until my mom texted me in the afternoon wondering what the results were. I was tutoring another student this afternoon from 4:30 to 5:30 and the call didn't actually come in until the tail-end of my appointment.

After we wrapped up another evening's worth of algebra homework, I scurried out to the car, backed up down their impossibly long driveway, then called my voicemail to listen to the message in the car.

My progesterone was up to 43 which for me lately is really good. Then she said the magic words... "No more shots after yesterday's dose." I listened to the rest of the message -- continue suppositories, back next week for blood, blah blah blah -- then I hung up. I literally did a little dance in the car.

No more shots! No more vials! Just a few hours shy of the 16 week mark and we are finally done!

Things are getting better and a little more real! I had another OB appointment last week and, though we didn't get another ultrasound, the doctor did bring out the doppler and let us listen to the heartbeat for a minute or two. He also gave me the order sheets for our 20 week anatomy scan, which is less than a month away. Our next few weekends are a bit busy, so C and I have even discussed when we will go out and start our registry!

Though I was unable to attend my paternal family Thanksgiving, my Mom Mom announced for me and C finally called his parents. The whole family knows now and it is really starting to sink in.

Now, if I could just start showing a little bump instead of just looking fat, that'd be great!

Worst. Blood Draw. Ever.

As I posted before, last week was yet another week of the every-three-day PIO shots. Given that the shots are less and less frequent, they are not as painful, but I still have nerve damage in my left upper thigh and a few hard bumps remain from all the stabbing. More distressing to me, however, was that we were gearing up for yet another refill of PIO during a financially-strapped time of year.

Last week, I went in for another blood draw and it was quite a haul. I had to tutor that evening and it was for a family whom I really like and I had already canceled last week's appointment. I really had no choice but to go. The blood lab was open until 6:30, I would be tutoring until 5:00, and it takes a little more than an hour to get to the office. So, here goes nothing...

I narrowly made it to the office and I was the last patient of the day. I had tried to drink a bit of water in the waiting room as I flew through the door, but I had a feeling this would be a rough one. She tried the "good vein" in my left arm, fished around for a bit -- nothing. Tried the right arm, fished around for a bit -- nothing. Then, she did the thing I have always dreaded -- she tightened the tourniquet around my wrists and started poking around in my hands.

When I have had issues getting blood in the past, several phlebotomists have flicked and poked at my hands, but they have always decided against it as there was nothing available. As I watched the frustrated phlebotomist consider her options a whole five minutes after she was supposed to close, I realized that this was really happening. She made me run my hands under warm water for several minutes, then tried the unthinkable.

I kept suggesting that I drink more water, that it had worked in the past, but in her thick Russian accent she shot back that it was unlikely that it would get into my bloodstream that quickly. I looked away, fully hiding my face with my arm. I attempted to look calm while my head was spinning and I felt nauseous. To be fair, I have been a trooper about the all these needles, but I am very touchy about my hands, wrists and feet. Add to this sensitivity, of course, this is finally happening while I am three months pregnant and still squeamish.

She stabbed my hand between my ring and pinky finger knuckles, then made a sound of frustration. Again, in her sometimes unintelligible accent, I hear her say, "...three times... get no blood... then it bursts." Oh. Crap.

She finally takes out the needle and the empty vial with it. Now the tiny pinprick on my hand won't stop bleeding. I look at my hand and there is a visible blue lump under the skin. And now it hurts. I'm no doctor and I have no idea what happened, but it is visibly swollen and blue. I am supremely grossed out.

She finally lets me go drink some water in the waiting room and sit down for a minute. My hand is pulsing and I can't make a fist. Of course, five minutes of standing around and four cooler cups of water later, she gets blood on the first try with the left arm again.

At this point, it is pretty late. I won't be home until after 8:00, so I decided to stop and pick up takeout on the way home. I drove home from NJ with an open hand just flapping at the turn signals as needed. My hand was still pretty sore all night as I slept, but luckily it was pretty close to normal the next day.

I know I am a bit of a whiner, but I choose to think of it this way -- we all have our foibles, fears and anxieties. I have overcome so many of these worries through the infertility process that I'm actually giving myself a virtual pat on the back. Maybe my traumatic tales seem hyperbolic to others, but to each his (or her) own. C may think I'm nuts for getting lightheaded and nauseous over the hand incident, but he would have the same panic about speaking in front of a crowd or going on an interview. We all have these phobias and I am a little proud of myself for tackling this one head-on...

Steps Forward, Steps Back

In many ways, we have made quite a bit of progress. We are officially in the second trimester and I have even taken over duties as the organizer of the "2nd Tri Check-In" on the PAIF page. I have been graduated from my RE for official monitoring, but I am still going weekly for blood work. We have started looking around at baby items and talking about our plans and expectations. And yet a few things are still holding me back...

For whatever reason, I am still somewhat insecure about this whole thing lasting. All monitoring and signs have been good and the baby is consistently measuring on time. I have been feeling pretty good, but it still just doesn't feel real.

First of all, I am still on PIO. I went down to one dose every three days and had blood work yesterday to see if I could cut back further. Of course, just like last decrease, my body will need another week of the every-three-day dose to adjust and I will be back in for more blood work on Monday. That means at a minimum, I will still need shots on Thursday and Monday. Any more than that, and I will need another refill that we can ill afford.

I know that sounds somewhat ridiculous - we're having a baby, a baby that we hoped to have for more than three years, and we are worried about money. Shouldn't we have planned this better? Shouldn't we have been saving? Well, first of all, we never were and never will be wealthy. We know that, so there was really no point in waiting any longer. Our parents raised us with very little and we turned out just fine.

We also have spent and are still spending quite a bit on treatment. We still have twice a normal patient's number of appointments and co-pays between the RE and OB. We are still paying for PIO and suppositories (for which we have no coverage) and these meds were anticipated to phase out back at the 8w mark.

Finally, the most unforeseen problem has been C's work. As a teacher, I am a salaried employee, even if that salary leaves much to be desired. C is the main breadwinner for the family in his job as an auto technician. His pay, however, depends on work and the work hasn't been coming in like it used to. A low paycheck for him could easily be half of a good one and that difference really hurts. His service writer also recently had a heart attack. This means that he missed some work lately and calls out often. He is a good friend and I wish him a speedy recovery, but when he is not there, C is shuffled around to other teams and his pay suffers.

So, yes, we know. Raising a child will be expensive. And, no, we are not expecting some kind of windfall or major change. But I feel like we have been hit with a triple whammy this season - lower paychecks, higher-than-expected medical and other bills, and normal holiday spending.

Yet another strange "step back:" we are still in the PG closet. Just a short list of family and friends know. More important is the list of who doesn't know. Other than my dad, his entire side of the family doesn't know. C hasn't even told his parents or siblings. None of my best friends know. And now I am thinking that this a chicken-or-egg type situation - am I not telling them because it doesn't feel real or does it not feel real because we haven't told them?

For weeks, I have been pushing the "big reveal" back further and further. I keep thinking that I will just wait for the next ultrasound just to make sure everything is OK. Or the next appointment. Or the next milestone. And then it just never happens. Then yesterday I had somewhat of a wake-up call. A Facebook friend with a history of mild IF issues announced that she is expecting her second child. Great, I'm happy for her. But the kicker - her due date is several weeks after mine and I haven't even told family much less the whole world.

I think this has less to do with anxiety about problems as it does with my own ridiculously high expectations I have set for myself. When you dream of being pregnant for three and-a-half years, you come up with a lot of ideas. Your announcements, your shower, your parenting and your baby will be bigger and better than any of those normal "fertile people" babies. (I know this is slightly hyperbolic, but it's kinda true...)

Then when it's really happening, but life is happening at the same time and the days start to fly by and sh*t gets real, your plans crumble just a little. But I dreamed about this moment for so long, that maybe I am just dragging my feet so that I can make it big. Thanksgiving is right around the corner and maybe if I get my sh*t together, our announcement will live up to our dreams.

2nd Tri, Here We Come!

It's been a while since I updated, so I figured it was time...

I have been really swamped at work and have had little time to do much else. It is report card season for the first quarter already and parent conferences are fast approaching. I have also been working on a few (unpaid...) projects outside of school and I have been spending every minute that I am not working vegging out with C watching movies and TV.

As of last week, we are more or less graduated from the RE. I am still taking PIO every other day, so I will need to go back periodically for blood work, but I am no longer going there officially for monitoring of the SCH.

I was supposed to start slowing down on the PIO a few weeks ago, but my progesterone levels were never high enough. Finally about two weeks ago, I got the OK to cut back to every other day. When I went in for blood work and ultrasound, however, my levels were not quite high enough to cut back further, so I stayed on the every-other-day plan for another week.

This past Friday, I went back for another ultrasound and more blood work, and we are starting a new cut back plan. I continued to take it every other day on Friday, Sunday and Tuesday, but they want me to skip Wednesday and Thursday. Then, I will go in for more blood work on Friday to see if I am generating enough progesterone on my own and see if we can stick with the every-three-days plan. I am also still on progesterone suppositories and, according to my nurse, these will be the last of the meds to go.

I have another appointment with the OB on November 20 and they want me in every four weeks. This means my next appointment after this one will be the big one - the 20 week anatomy scan in late December to determine the gender of the baby, among other things. Knowing that we are entering the second trimester and that we are getting this close to the halfway point is exhilarating.

As far as preparing for baby, we really haven't done anything yet. I still have told remarkably few people and I have really held back on any planning or buying. We cleaned out the spare bedroom that will be the nursery this past weekend, which really just needed to be done anyway. The room has a bare, beat-up hardwood floor and we are hoping to refinish the floor before Christmas. At that point, we will know the gender of the baby and can start planning a bit more with registering, painting and prepping.

I figured that at this point, it was OK to allow ourselves to get a little excited, though. I know that everyone and their proverbial mother will have advice about dos and don'ts, so I thought it would be fun and helpful for C and I to go out baby shopping just to get an idea of what we want and do not want before everyone starts barraging us with advice. We went to Babies R Us this weekend and test drove some strollers, looked at furniture and talked about feeding while wandering through the aisles. It was nice to see C get excited about certain things and to see that we were mostly in agreement about our expectations.

They say that the second trimester is the "honeymoon phase" of pregnancy and I am certainly hoping that they are right!