Like Beans Through the Hourglass, So Are the Days of our Lives

In a mere two and a half days they will be drawing blood for our pregnancy test. Obviously we are getting excited and hope to be celebrating, but I also know that we will quickly be in wait mode again. If everything worked and we do get a positive than we need to come back 48 hours later for another blood test to see how everything is progressing, and next make an appointment for an ultrasound a week later. Are both Mary-Kate and Ashley holding on? Basically, I feel like Jack Bauer, walking around with one of those digital countdown clocks in my head. beep-doop, beep-doop, beep-doop. Frankly, I am not sure if I will really feel that we are out of the woods until January.

On a related note, I have been thinking lately that one of the more frustrating aspects of this process is that IVF robs you of your privacy with regard to telling people. Before IF, I always imagined having a few weeks to savor the news of nascent pregnancy. Mrs. Beans and I would nervously hold hands in the waiting room through our first doctors visits, leisurely peruse the advertisements for nursery furniture in the Sunday paper, make lists of potential names, and think about how and when we would share our big news. Now I have a list of phone calls to make after we get the results. Don't get me wrong, without the love and unyielding support of our close friends and family (many of whom read this blog), there is no way that we could have gotten this far. But selfishly, I wish that we had some time to digest the news, good or bad. I also think what really worries me is that there is a reason (which shall not be named) that people do not run around telling others about their pregnancies until the end of the 2nd or 3rd month (at least). My worst nightmare is having to make those phone calls. Yikes! Guess, I am feeling a bit anxious. Back to Norman Vincent Peale mode.

Other updates? Well, our 2 remaining embryos continued to develop and we now have two waiting in the on deck circle for FET. I know that it doesn't work this way, but I can't help but take their development as a positive sign for Mary-Kate and Ashley. We received a very lovely form letter from our clinic. "We at Baby Factory, Inc. Wish you nothing but the best on your journey to parenthood and wish to inform you that we froze _____ embryos from your most recent retrieval." I was feeling a little frustrated with this Hallmark moment so I called them up and asked for some more details. They assured me that the blastocysts were of high quality, although one was a bit more advanced. (Please note that the accompanying picture is Trot and not JD "Nancy" Drew, Sox fans will know this is important)

What else? Mrs. Beans is feeling very uncomfortable. She is being a very good sport about her injections, but I think that she is at capacity. Over the last four days quite a bit of the progesterone has been leaking out of the injection site. Of course, we called the pharmacy and the IVF nurses in a panic and they assured us that it was no big deal, but I am still worried. Has this ever happened to anyone else? Mrs. Beans, who incidentally would have made a fantastic Civil War doctor based on her medical theories (Headache soldier? Must be too much blood in your head, let's bleed it out!), has decided that her body, specifically her ass, is filled up like a giant progesterone water balloon, and the needle is simply springing a leak, cartoon character style.

Finally, I wanted to share this resource that I happened upon earlier this week while googling "IVF pregnancy tests, how soon is too soon?" This site gives the IVF success rates of the majority of the country's clinics. The data is from 2005 and obviously dependent upon a variety of different factors, but we still wish that we would have had this centralized info at our fingertips a few months ago. It even comes with a handy map! I will add it to my sidebar as well. Enjoy!

Please keep your fingers crossed!

Two Beans in the Oven

Well, our transfer is complete and as of Saturday morning we have two little beans hanging out in the oven.

I must admit, there were several surprises in store for us this weekend. Somehow we had convinced ourselves that we were going to have a five day transfer, so we were in a pretty relaxed mood on Saturday morning. We were supposed to call in at 8:3o to see if we were on for Saturday or Monday, but much to our surprise the phone rang at 8:28. It was one of the nurses telling Mrs. Beans to go pee, pop a Valium, start drinking water, and get to the office by 9:30 for a 10:00 transfer.

Mind you, we had convinced ourselves that we were going to have a 5 day transfer, so we morning preparations consisted of laying in bed eating cinnamon rolls and watching DVDs.

Holy Shit! Thank god for the Valium because it was a not a low stress morning. We showered up, threw on some clothes, and raced to the clinic (all the while Mrs. Beans was downing her 32 oz. of liquid). We breathlessly arrived at the office at 9:33, but of course we were just told to take a seat.

10 o'clock came and went and we didn't hear a single word for any of the staff. All the while, Mrs. Beans is becoming increasingly uncomfortable because she is not allowed to use the facilities. She is on the verge of breaking down and heading to the can, when one of the nurses comes to get us at 10:10. I tell the nurse how uncomfortable Mrs. Beans is and point out that they are running late (despite the fact that we are the only ones there), but the nurse encourages her to hold on for just a bit longer because they are going to start any minute.

At this point Mrs. Beans is starting to actually sweat as a result of the effort that it is taking to "hold it." I put on the haz-mat suit that they use to make husbands feel important and we are ready to go, but still no doctor and still no embryologist. Finally, at 10:25, Mrs. Beans cannot take it anymore and she has to use that bathroom. The nurse, who now is being very sympathetic and has placed a threatening phone call to the doctor, tells Mrs. Beans to do a "five-count" pee. I had never really thought about this, but it is much harder for women to "hold it," than for men. After all, there is not really an "it" that you can hold to keep it in. But I digress. Mrs. Beans relieved herself (she later told me that she did a "10 count") and the doctor finally arrived.

We immediately went into the room and the embryologist joined us. They said that of the five remaining embryos, one had arrested at 3 cells, two were at 6 cells and needed further development, and that we had two 8 cell, grade A embies that they were going to transfer today. Now this was not exactly the consult that was described in the literature. So, much to their chagrin, I actually stopped them.

"Wait a minute, you have been telling us all along that one was the preferred number to transfer for someone under the age of 35. Is there something wrong with the embryos?"

"No, no, we generally transfer one on a five day transfer, because we have a better idea of the viability of a blastocyst. Since you are down to two embryos, we don't want to wait for the 5 day and we want to put them in right away."

All of this was fine, but it certainly came as a surprise to the both of us. We have basically memorized the IVF literature at our clinic and can quote sections chapter and verse. "And on the 3rd day, thou shall not transfer more that two embryos into a patient under the age of 35! Can I get an Amen!?!? Hallelujah!"

Anyway, they showed us the pictures of the embryos (I am calling them Mary-Kate and Ashley), and prepared Mrs. Beans. The doctor was brazen enough to comment, "my your bladder certainly is full!" Yeah, no kidding?

So, Mrs. Beans was pretty focused on not peeing in the doctor's face, but I got to witness the transfer and it was pretty awesome. There was a little flash and you could see them (or at least some small bubbles) being shot into the uterus (And that Tommy is how babies are made!).

We were obviously the only couple with a procedure that morning, as the nurse gave us our final instructions and asked us if we knew the way out!?!?

Umm, yeah, do you want us to get the lights and log off the computers too?

Anyway, we came home and all of a sudden the Valium kicked in (better late than never), so Mrs. Beans took a brisk 6 hour nap! She refused to be roused, even when I came into the room to inform her that J.K. Rowling announced that Dumbledore is gay. Under normal circumstances she would have shot out of bed at such explosive news, but on Saturday she simply said, "Howzistisns.... snooort... hasdsdu... gay?" and rolled back over.

The rest of the weekend was spent trying to convince Mary-Kate and Ashley to attach ASAP. My sister brought over a wide variety of magazines for Mrs. Beans, some friends made some homemade soup, I whipped up a batch of homemade meatballs, and my SIL and BIL brought over some fantastic Indian food on Sunday. Hopefully, plying them with gifts and home cooked meals will do the trick. So that's were we are at for the moment. The pregnancy test is set for November 3rd which seems impossibly far away, so we are trying to stay busy. Thanks for all of your positive thoughts! They really do make a difference!

IVF: A Week in Review

A very busy week at Casa de Beans.

The HcG shot went off without a hitch on Monday night (I might have gone a little low, so Mrs. Beans was a little sore), but the nurses drew some new circles so the progesterone has gone much better.

Since we are doing ICSI we were the first couple on the docket for Wednesday morning. The nurses explained that I would "do my business" at 7 am (cause who doesn't want to do that first thing in the morning). And the retrieval would take place at 8 o'clock. This made a little more sense with regard to the possibility that Mrs. Beans could assist me. It lead to the following exchange:

FNB: So, I guess that you could come into the room with me.

Mrs. Beans: Yeah, well, it seems strange, I've never watched you masturbate before, not sure that I want to start now.

FNB: Watch? I think the idea is that you are supposed to "lend a hand." (me making 'air quotes' with my fingers)

Mrs. Beans: (laughing) Oh right.

FNB: Are you kidding me? What were you going to stand in the corner with your arms crossed and shout out instructions?

Mrs. Beans: (still laughing) It was the Lupron talking.

FNB: Seriously, what are you like a coxswain, "Stroke... Stroke.... Stroke.... "

Mrs. Beans: Okay. Stop.
So obviously Mrs. Beans was not going to be a lot of help in this department.

Tuesday night we both had a restless sleep, Mrs. Beans being haunted by visions of a needle in her va-jay-jay, and I put the following cycle of dreams on repeat.

1. Frank can't get it up to make the deposit and ruins $14,000 dollar cycle.
2. Frank over shoots the cup, ends up on hands and knees trying to rescue sample and ruins $14,000 dollar cycle.
3. Frank can't finish the deal and has to sweatily march back into a waiting room full or people (like nightclub full) to get Mrs. Beans.

Good Times.

So, neither one of us was feeling one hundred percent on Wednesday morning. I knew that I need to break up the sour mood, so on the drive to the doctor's office, I took out the i-pod and blared the Theme Music from Superman. I drove with one hand and thrust out my right fist in the Superman "flying pose" as we cruised through the early morning empty streets. On the way I snapped off salutes to the dog walkers and commuters and with a deep voice shouted "Good Morning, citizen!"

It was good for a few laughs from Mrs. Beans (but I think she grew a little tired of it).

We arrived at the office and I went into the "spunkatorium." There on the "nightstand" was a pile of movies and I kid you not, on top was a DVD entitled Asian Take-Out 5. Yet, I persevered. I discovered that the trick for me was to not touch anything in the gross little closet and to not utilize any of the visual aids. I felt like much less of a deviant. I finished up rather quickly, but waited an additional 3 to 5 minutes, "cause I ain't no one minute man."

It was Mrs. Beans turn next and she was a champ. After assuring that anesthesiologist that she was not on any "street drugs" they knocked her out and did the retrieval. I came back into the room as she was waking up. ME: "How did it go?" HER: "I think I bit my lip."

They retrieved 7 eggs which we thought was a little low, especially since they were raving about her ovaries and how well she was responding. This is where being an avid blog reader can be a bit of a detriment because I knew that many women were well into the double digits. Still, I didn't want to worry Mrs. Beans, so when the doctors said that it was a "good number," I let it slide. Later we casually asked the nurse why there were so many follicles and so few eggs. She explained that they triggered based on the most mature follies and the others didn't have time to catch up. So why didn't they wait for the stragglers? We are not sure, but we think it is because Mrs. Beans was on a protocol for women with high risk for OHSS.

Anyway, we declared to one another that it is quality, not quantity that counts and headed home. I set Mrs. Beans up with some Grey's Anatomy DVDs and snacks in the bedroom and I worked from home.

We didn't need to wait too long on Thursday for the fertilization call. Of the seven eggs all were mature, 1 failed to fertilize and another developed abnormally, leaving us with 5 strong looking embies. The nurse said that there was a chance that they would want to do a 5 day transfer with us, so we have an appointment for a 3 day on Saturday, but we need to call and we may get bumped to Monday. The nurse said that 3 vs. 5 is neither a good or bad sign, but we consulted with Dr. Google and determined that you can choose better embies if all of them continue to develop up through day 5.

So, we are pretty excited and nervous. It was quite a relief to know that the eggs fertilized and we have something to work with. We are patiently waiting (sans wine, I asked and it was a no go) for Saturday morning's call.

I leave you with this video that I have been saving for this day (show your husbands or significant others because this is how boys think)!

Ovaries are fully loaded... it's time to STRUT!

Have you noticed a young woman struting through downtown? It may be Mrs. Beans.

Mrs. Beans had a kick-ass weekend, her follies are large and in charge and as a result they have moved up our retrieval day by 48 hours! Pending results from the blood test, the trigger shot will be tonight and we will be back in on Wednesday morning. Woo-hoo! The RE's have been gushing over Mrs. Beans ovaries. It's almost embarrassing, we think they might have a pin-up calendar of Miss Righty in their office.

It has made for a hectic weekend as we were in for an ultrasound on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Mrs. Beans commented that it feels like the movie Groundhog's Day, where Bill Murray keeps reliving the same day over and over. We (especially she) is not an early riser on the weekend, so two 6:30 am wake-up calls have made for some long days.

We are also going to ask the doctor if we can have a final glass of wine in between the retrieval and the transfer. We haven't had a drink in 6 weeks and hopefully we (she) will be on the wagon for another 10 months! On the other hand, everything is going so well that we don't want to jinx anything. This is how our neurotic minds work.

I am psyching myself up for the big shot tonight. I have taken over the Gonal/Repron shots so I am feeling confident. The only part that scares me is when I need to draw back a little to check for blood (to make sure that I didn't hit a vein or anything). However, I know that it goes much better when I am confident, quick, and efficient so I will be reviewing the videos this afternoon.

Okay, thanks for all of the support, I have been keeping up with everyone, even if I have been slacking on the comments.

Wish us luck!

Crazy Train

Shhh! whisper! she hears everything.

i can't blog for long... she'll be home soon.

Mrs. Beans is 5 days deep in a Gonal-F/Repron fog... i've... i've noticed some changes.

it usually starts with a headache...

Wait! Did you hear something? Stay absolutely still. It can sense your fear...

Whew, okay, just the neighbors cat. Easy Frank.

Anyway, it started with the headaches, then she started forgetting things... stopping mid-sentence, going into rooms, but not knowing why...

Next it was... well the destruction. The drugs seem to have wreaked havoc with her equilibrium. Running into tables, knives being dropped, a bottle of nail polish on our carpet (I am calling it a Pollock).

But it's the emotions that scare me the most. The laughing jags for no apparent reason. Not a lilting girlish laugh mind you, but a deep guttural laugh... like the laugh of a scary, murderous clown out on parole.

Am I in danger? Yes, I think so.

For now I am fending her off with pints of Ben and Jerry's but my supply is running low. I am not sure how much longer I can last.

p.s. these shots are a real bitch. We are encountering a lot of resistance when we push down on the plunger of the syringe. In the video it looks like a smooth continuous motion, but in our experience it is more a series of jerky stops and starts. Are we doing something wrong?

The Pressure Cooker

*** WARNING Very graphic and crass blog entry to follow!***

This morning we went in for our baseline ultrasound. Mrs. Beans ovaries are looking "robust," so we are on to the Gonal-F and Repronex tomorrow evening. The RE recommended mixing the Gonal and Repron together to make one shot. It's been years since we shut down our meth lab, so we are a little nervous about mixing up the drugs. Has anyone out there done this? Is it easy?

After the ultrasound we were able to sit down with the IVF nurse and asked a few questions. First, thanks to a tip that we learned from that treasure trove "the IVF Shoot Em' Up," we asked for and were given 1 inch needles instead of 1 1/2 inch needles for the progesterone shots, Yippee! As the designated "shooter" I was pretty excited about the reduction in length, as I was worried about making a Beans-ka-bob, out of my rather petite wife. We also got a better idea of when the retrieval and transfers will take place. They do coincide with some interesting football and baseball games, but I wisely kept this to myself.

Next, we asked if I needed to produce my sample at the doctor's office or if I could do it at home and bring it in. The back story being that I HATE going into the "spankatorium" and I have done my last two samples in the cozy confines of "Casa de Beans."

I have to admit that I am more than a little nervous about this final deposit, especially considering that there is now an element of timing involved. I feel like I am back in Little League. "Bases loaded, two outs, bottom of the ninth.... okay, Beans it's up to you. Drive in that run and win the game." I usually operate pretty well under pressure, but the nature of this particular situation is turning into a source of great angst.

Anyway, the IVF nurse said that I could do it at home as a last resort, but that it was strongly encouraged that I do it in the lab to provide the "freshest" possible sample. She knows that we are self pay and added, "it is quite an investment (emotionally, physically, financially) to get to this point, so you want to consider all of you options carefully."

Oh really? Thanks for clearing that up, I feel much more relaxed now!

The nurse went on to say, that Mrs. Beans could provide an assist, but frankly we are a little confused as to how that works and were too embarrassed to ask. Well, we understand how it works, but I mean with the timing and everything. Our understanding is that A. Mrs. Beans will pop some Valium beforehand and B. there will be some discomfort after the retrieval. We have talked about it, and envision Mrs. Beans, all groggy from the medication, slipping off the table and staggering over to the spunkatorium.

Mrs. Beans purrs, "Oh yeah, you like that, don't you Frankie?"

Frank replies, "Umm, that's a lamp. I'm over here."

A few minutes later we are in the Beansmobile going to work and we had the following conversation:

FNB: So, they really want me to come into the office for the sample.

Mrs. B: Yeah, well, you just gotta get in there and do it. Don't think about, just get it done. In and out!

FNB: But, that's the problem.

Mrs. B: What is?

FNB: Your looking at this like giving blood or having some other medical procedure done, but it's more mental than anything. You can't just grit your teeth and get through it. Imagine if the tables were turned. The doctor comes in and says, "Okay Mrs. Beans, now we would like you to bring yourself to a state of arousal and then climax. You can do it in this closet right over here." ***Banging on door*** "Hey, is everything okay in there? No pressure, but we need you to do this in the next ten minutes.... try small circles! Oh, and we have a TigerBeat and an US Weekly if you need it..."

Mrs. B: (laughing) Okay, stop. I get it.

Now, this entry is not a plea for sympathy, I am VERY aware that I am shouldering little of the burden in this process, that I have the easy part of the job, and that I have been practicing for this moment since the day I was thirteen and Cheryl Tiegs first graced the cover of Sports Illustrated. But I AM nervous, it is uncomfortable, and men do worry about these things! As much as we might like to project the "frat boy" image that we are ready "to go" at a moments notice, that we would love to have sex twice a day, every day, and that we don't need romance, when you are in a committed relationship you come to appreciate the candles and clean sheets.
Alas, Fac fortia et patere.