I just need one good one, I just need one good one, I just need one good one

Iffy news at the doc. Only 4 kept growing. Damn my low follicular reserve. Retrieval's Monday, I assume transfer is Thursday since most likely they'll do a day 3 transfer. We're only putting in one, so I only need one good one. I am trying to stay glass half full, which goes completely against my nature, and not go to the what if place. What if only one fertilizes and that one craps out? I hope that my good luck in life thus far holds out, not that this is a matter of luck. So meh.

On another note, this no caffeine, no booze thing sucks. All I wanted after the sh*tty appointment Tuesday was a friggin' cup of coffee. I decided to drop even decaf (except in special circumstances) when I felt super-crazy after a couple cups of it. I think that the super-crazy's probably from my nerves about this whole process, but you can never tell and better safe than sorry.  I've been drinking Celestial S.eason.ing's Roastaroma. It smells nearly like coffee, and doesn't taste too bad either. Speaking of tea,  every blend of that Yog.i tea I try has something in it that trips my gag reflex... I think Y.ogi tea and I will just have to agree to disagree.

That part's done

We went and signed the dumb form today. Yesterday when I called the doctor's office to schedule a time, they told me that they didn't encourage people to bring kids. Too bad for them, then, because we really didn't have a choice. We took them in their strollers, they instantly took us to a room to wait, and we were in and out quickly. Total time from parking our car at the garage and including the time it took us to buy a bagel and eat it? 45 minutes. Right on.

Acquaintances of ours whose daughter is a few months younger than the girls just announced that the other mom is pregnant. Why does that give me a pang? We are trying to get pregnant right now (hopefully, successfully), so why the twinge?!

Whoops.

So our stupid bank sent s!per.m to Zazie's attention instead of mine, even though my name is on the account and I'm the one who called and ordered it. Der.

This morning, when I went in for monitoring, I tried to straighten it out. First, they had me meet with a social worker who told me that I had to get Zazie to come in to the office to sign. I explain our situation (Brooklyn, twins, etc.), she seems to say that I can sign papers by myself, I wait another 10 minutes for the coordinator to come in. She walks in to my waiting room like no one had filled her in and asks the same questions. Except she's refusing to let me switch the vials to my name without Zazie's sig. I explain that the bank screwed up, the account's in my name, babysitting/parking fees/time off work to come in- doesn't matter. The coordinator suggests that I could have the bank send a tank, they'll send the vials back, and then they could reship it under my name. That was such an absurd suggestion.

Oh, man. I completely lost my cool with her and with the social worker, and then went out on the street and bawled like a baby on the phone to Zazie. It really isn't a huge deal, I know they were just doing their jobs, but what the hell? Whatever, the girls are going to get a trip to the city tomorrow morning before I have to go to work, I guess.

I should've known I was going to have a bad day- a fire-and-brimstone old lady preacher got on our car and was loudly preaching and walking back and forth. I tried to get away from her and she kept finding her way back near me. I actually said something like "Please lady, it's too early in the morning for that" (Seriously, 6:30 is a b*tch) as I tried to get away from her. I had to switch cars to get away from her!

Oh, and I now have 5 or 6 follicles!

Not positive, not exactly negative either

I went to the RE this morning. After five days of meds, I have 3 follicles at 11, and 3 that are "too small to know how they'll turn out." I think I heard the doctor say one of those too small ones was at 10. This office requires you to have at least 3 follicles to continue your IVF cycle, so that part's good news. I figure there's not that much difference between 10 and 11, so there's hope for that one (let's not discuss the actual numeric comparison, ie if you're talking about mm, the difference between 10 and 11 is sizable). I'm going to eat lots of protein this week. I don't know if that'll help, but I'm going to imagine that it will, since friends of ours (Hi S.!) told us that her acupuncturist recommended lots of meat and full-fat dairy.

I'll be eating a burger with avocado and following that up with peanut butter ice cream. Doctor's orders. If not now, when? Right?

Figured it out!

The b00b thing? We let them watch that Babies documentary.... Lots of breastfeeding. We have our answer.

In other news, the girls gave their schepels (pacifiers) to their friend Baby Joe. First night went alright and everyone got some sleep. Whew. They've mentioned them a couple times today, but no screaming fits. This might turn out ok.

Cute things and one weird thing.

The girls have taken to saying "Best ever!" when they're having a good time doing something, like dancing during our nightly dance party. Ru's rules dictate that the dance party must begin with one song only: Mama Loocie. If you try to change the order of songs, she'll yell "dance party! dance party!" I guess dance party=Mama Loocie? After that, she requests "See you later all-gator". El is just happy to dance and jump and run around the room. And speaking of El, she's taken to saying "perfeck" (perfect) when she likes something.

Speaking of El, we were at the park last weekend when she heard a kid crying. She walked over, stood next to him and said "Sorry kid. Feel better?" It was very sweet.

Now onto the weird. They've both been getting crazy during song and story time before bed... talking loudly, jumping, laughing. They get so wound up. Zazie and Ru have a game where Ru pokes her and she makes noise, ie Ru touches Zazie's lips, she makes a raspberry. The newest addition is that Ru will poke your neck. I guess the first time she did it, Zazie made a sort of strangle-y noise. And now it's a game and all she wants to do is poke me in the neck while I'm trying to sing their bedtime songs. It is hiLARious. Last night, she grabbed my b.00bs and wobbled them around, saying "Where's the baby?" I, of course, told her those were my private body parts, but where did that even come from? What the hell?

Today it Starts

I had vials shipped to the doctor today. Tonight, I start the meds. I can't believe the day is here. It's a little scary to realize that I've been cramming for this test that's completely out of my control through diet and acupuncture and soon I know whether I pass or I fail. I know that isn't the right terminology, but I have to admit that it feels that way. I've always had confidence in my body- it might not look perfect, but it's served me well over the years. I feel differently after learning that I might have problems getting pregnant... what the hell did I do to deserve that? Oh, yeah. Smoking for years, drinking too much, possible sh*tty heredity (my mom went into menopause early). Zazie points out that there's no way to know if any of those things contributed or whether it's just a sh*tty fluke. So whatever. How unfair that getting pregnant isn't a test you can pass through your own skill- it's just up to fate!

The docs have talked to us about the number of embryos to put in. (Knock on wood the cycle works at all). We've decided on one. We already have twins, we can't handle another set and I can't bear the thought of a "selective reduction" if we were blessed with another two. I just think about what would happen if we'd selectively reduced Ru or El... they are both so fantastic and delicious that the thought of missing out on one of them makes me teary. I feel really solid on this decision but I occasionally I get a "what if this doesn't work because we decided to put in one and I'm SOL?" I get one shot at this IVF thing. If it doesn't work, my insurance won't cover a whole additional cycle (we'd have to pay out-of-pocket for about half and we don't have money for that). So this it. The last (and only) hurrah. What kind of freaking hurrah involves weeks of doctors visits, ultrasounds, medsmedsmeds, and possibly ends in nothing but a period?

I am trying to be content in our decision. I've pulled out all my talismans. I've been wearing the Virgin Mary necklace my friend A wore for many years.  I've been wearing the liger shirt I wore when we were trying with Ru and El because it reminded me of a childhood picture of our donor. Under our bed, I have dandelions from Ireland given to us by a friend who swears by her family's fertility tradition. I've been breathing deep and praying. That's all I can do for now. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for me.