Telephone

Today is beta day and the blood has been drawn.  I thought I knew what the results would be, but now I'm getting mixed signals and have NO idea what to expect.  Waiting for the phone call is excruciating ...

They're In!

The last few nights have been rough.  I kept having nightmares that my three little embryos didn't make it to transfer.  Thank goodness those dreams did not come true.  Transfer was this morning!  One of America's Most Wanted embryos was arrested at the 9 cell stage. BUT the other two made it to Day 5 transfer and are now on the inside!  Here they are, a beautiful blastocyst and a morula (stage before blastocyst):

I would just love to show them this picture someday.  Hopefully at this very hour they are settling in for the long winter and beyond.  By the way, I really don't like the phrase "PUPO" - Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise.  It's the "until" that bothers me.  Makes it sound like having it proved otherwise is an inevitability.  I propose the term be changed to "Pregnant Unless Proven Otherwise", which I think sounds a bit more optimistic.  Who's with me?

Thanks to my brother, my kids have been chauferred around and well cared for today while I've been in bed.  Having him here with us has been such a blessing.  I was actually in bed for most of Sunday and part of Monday as well due to being sick.  Tomorrow will be another lazy day.  I am getting so spoiled!

Lovenox started today (OUCH!  That stuff burns!) but tomorrow will be my last PIO shot before transitioning to Endometrin suppositories.  This is to avoid any bleeding and bruising from the PIO shots that may be caused by the blood thinners.  Works for me!  I much prefer the "ick" of suppositories to the "ouch" of those big needles.  So all good news today and I hope it just keeps on coming!

America's Most Wanted

Mixed news with today's fertilization report.  Of the eleven eggs retrieved, only four were mature.  This, obviously, is an enormous disappointment.  However, three of the four fertilized and were looking good at the four-cell stage as of this morning.  I will get a call early tomorrow regarding whether we will transfer then or wait it out until Tuesday.  I asked whether it's possible to have all three transferred since I am now over 35 by a whole nine days.  I'm guessing the doctor will say no if they all (hopefully!) look stellar and maybe yes if they don't. 

Please pray that at least two of them will be perfect for transfer!  These little embryos are among America's most wanted and I would love nothing more than to sentence one or two of them to nine months on the inside.

No, these aren't them.  This is just a sloppy Photoshop job.

Update:  As of Sunday morning, all three are still growing strong.  We're shooting for a Day 5 transfer on Tuesday!

A Giant Sucking Sound

The eggs were sucked out of me this morning.  I was far less nervous about being medically assaulted this time around.  I ditched my dignity at the door, calmly stripped off, donned the gown, and assumed the position.  Hubby was dispatched to the Back Room to peruse the festive selection of literature.  This month's spread:  Ho's for the Holidays.  At least that's what I imagine.

Got eleven eggs this time.  I feel neither happy nor crappy about this number.  I'm trying not to think about it until I know how many are mature, how many fertilized, and most importantly, if there are any great ones to put back.  I need one with staying power. That's all that matters.

"Eggs from heaven!"

"No...from her bum!"

This part of the process is really not fun.  Up until now I was being proactive - stabbing myself, going to appointments, and getting probed.  I could see and feel progress happening.  Now it's all out of my control.  Of course, things have really been out of my control for a long time, but now it's even more out of my control.  I hate that.  All I can do right now is lie around the house like a slug on drugs.

Hurts So Good / Switch Flipper

The lone ovary has done surprisingly well despite the endometrioma that I'd feared would ruin this cycle.   I've been feeling sore and lopsided for the last couple of days.  For most of the past nine years, pelvic pain made me terrified and anxious because it meant something was wrong.  It's nice for a change that hurting down there is a good sign. 

Stims this time around actually produced more follicles than last cycle, and in a shorter period of time.  Today's ultrasound showed three mature-sized follicles and five more that should be mature by retrieval on Thursday morning.  Eight would be great!  Last time I got six that were mature.  Just minutes ago I injected myself in the rear with the HCG.  Even though I know it really doesn't hurt, that big needle made me nervous for a moment.  But it's all over now and tomorrow there will be no needles!

The better-than-expected follicle count has gotten my hopes up a bit.  Hope is a scary thing for me anymore.  I've noticed that my life tends to go in 5-7 years phases.  When it's good it's very very good and when it's bad it's horrid.  Things will run overwhelmingly one way for years and then turn around and go the other way as suddenly as if someone flipped a switch. 

Before the Really Bad Phase kicked off with the death of Jeremiah, I'd had a seven-year Good Phase which got me a college degree, the opportunity to live abroad and travel to 30+ foreign counties, a wonderful husband, and two living children.  This current Really Bad Phase has gone on for nearly four years.  Switching back to Good now may be a bit premature, but I believe an early reprieve is in order since these last years have been SO terribly bad.  I'm praying that the Switch Flipper will see fit to go ahead and flip it right now!

In the Closet

First, a cycle update:  Today is Day Six of stims and the first ultrasound.  There are seven follicles between 10 and 16 mm.  This appears to be a great improvement over last cycle, which had just two measurable follicles at this point.  I wonder, though, if one or two of these are actually shrunken endometriomas?  One definite endometrioma is at 2.7 cm.  Sure wish I didn't have this confounding factor to deal with this time around.  Trigger is projected to be on Tuesday, after just seven days of stims.  That's three days shorter than last cycle.  As always, I'm wondering if that's a good thing or a bad thing.  More appointments tomorrow and Tuesday.  Until then, I'm trying not to obsess about everything too much (ha - too late!).  And I'm definitely not talking about it anywhere but here.

I've never been very public (in real life, at least) about my infertility.  It's easier to keep it quiet with secondary infertility.  Plus, since I've had two late losses, I imagine many people think I've just given up.  So for this IVF cycle, I've decided to go with a strict Don't Tell policy, except with a few family members and geographically distant friends.  I'm just trying to prevent the news from getting out in my immediate circle so I don't have to deal with unexpected questions and comments when I'm out pretending to be a normal person.

I wish I didn't have to lock myself away in the infertility closet, but it's just not worth the effort and aggravation of being "out".  I'm not willing to risk platitudes, stupid comments, judgment, and gossip.  I know that being "out" can help others better understand the difficulties of infertility and how to be more sensitive towards those who struggle with it, but I'm too beaten down to care. 

How about you?  To what extent are you in the infertility closet?  Do you try to help others understand what infertility and/or loss is like?  Do you want family and "real life" friends reading your blog or do you try to limit readership to others in the loss/infertility community? 

None of my local friends and acquaintances know of this blog (except other local bloggers I've met - Hi girls!).  I aim to keep it that way.  If everyone around me knew, I imagine that blogging about such intensely personal matters would begin to feel something like this:

Back in Fighting Position

My body has decided to cooperate after all. Yesterday I was blessed with The Curse. Today's ultrasound showed further shrinkage of the suspected endometriomas (now 2.7 and 1.2 cm). The third is likely masquerading as an antral follicle, which are numbered at nine. Stims begin TOMORROW!

In other good news, my brother finally arrived yesterday, a month later than planned, and will be staying with us for the near future. This is a mutually beneficial situation, as he is now able to study away from the hostile environment of our parents' house and I no longer have to stress about finding child care on short notice when I have to go to the clinic. Plus he is awesome with the kids!

So tomorrow: the protocol this time around is 5 units Lupron and 150 IU Menopur in the morning and 300 IU Follistim in the evening. That's double the Menopur and triple the Follistim I started out on last cycle. I'm hopeful the higher doses will improve my chances, but of course I have no idea how the endometriomas will affect things.

My greatest fear is that this will end badly and the hope that has sustained me these last few years will die a sudden and horrible death. I'm not sure how to live with that. Because of all the drama going into this cycle and the fact that it may be the last, it's been hard to feel ready. Frankly, I'm shocked that I have any fight left in me at all at this point. I guess it just goes to show how desperately I want this. So I'm hoping very hard that this will be our last cycle because it works and not because financial or physical constraints prevent any further attempts.

Clueless

Today's ultrasound left me even more confused and clueless than the last one.  My estrogen has gone down from 191 to 79, but there's still not so much as a spot or a cramp happening.  Even so, my lining managed to shrink from 9mm to 6mm.  I don't get it.  Physically I feel fantastic but I can't even enjoy it because it means something is really wrong.  I need to be bleeding (which means hurting) so we can get this show on the road!

The endometriomas (if that is indeed what they are) have all gotten smaller - 2.7, 2.2, and 1.2 cm.  Good, right?   But the antral follicle count also got smaller - 5 today, compared to 8 last Tuesday.  This has me worried.  Tuesday my doctor told me that because I had 8 antral follicles, that would be the upper limit of eggs we could possibly get, assuming I even get to try.  Today I didn't get to talk to the doctor, but the nurse told me antral follicles "go in and out of you" and can change day by day.    Any chance the number can go UP from here?  If not, is there any point to this?  That's what I get to agonize about until my next appointment on Monday.

[Note: My belly looks exactly like this!  Except I have multiple surgical scars and bruises from injections.  Plus I have stretch marks I wouldn't trade for anything!]

A Shocking Development

I've been dying to write a post saying I've got good news for a change and I was hoping today would be such a day. For the last two weeks, I've been feeling pretty great. We had a nice little vacation to visit family. Also we've been on lots of fun family outings nearby lately thanks to unusually warm and wonderful weather here.

It's totally off-topic, but this is pretty funny (must have some humor because the rest of this post sucks):



The best thing about the last few weeks is that I've had hardly any pain at all. I certainly took this as a good sign. I was finally able to get excited about IVF #2, which would feature much higher stim doses and Lovenox from transfer. I felt these would be two big improvements over last cycle. I dared to be a little optimistic. Stupid me. I should know better by now.

I've been on Lupron for 10 days and took my last pill Wednesday of last week. But nothing happened. No bleeding. No spotting. It's quite bizarre that after years of desperately hoping my period wouldn't come, I am now desperately hoping that it will.

By yesterday I knew that something was very wrong, so I went into today's ultrasound with dread in my heart. The endometrioma is still there, same size, but has now been joined by what appear to be TWO MORE endometriomas. One ovary. Three endometriomas. *sob* The antral follicle count is eight, which seems pretty dismal. Last time there were eleven. But it is completelly irrelevant at this point because obviously I can't move forward. I have to bleed first, and there's no sign of it happening. Also my estrogen is too high (192 - should be under 50). My doctor called and said to stay on 20 units of Lupron and come back on Friday. IF I bleed and get the estrogen down, I might still be able to proceed, though not with much optimism. If not, this appears to be the end of the road for me.

Financially we cannot proceed with treatment after January 1, 2011. Months ago we paid for a three try cost-sharing plan under which we get our money back if we don't end up with a baby. Try #1 failed, try #2 could fit it this year but is now in jeopardy, and time constraints make it impossible for there to be a #3. The plan we're on covers the actual IVF but not the drugs or monitoring, which easily total $7000 per cycle without insurance. Right now we're fine because we have great coverage, but as of January 1 the COBRA plan we're using for infertility will no longer provide any coverage. No coverage is available through hubby's new employer. In just days we lost the hope of a third try and also quite possibly a second. Without the IVF, we have NO hope.

I am so grateful for my two living children. Without them I could not get up in the mornings. Ending my family with burying two babies, though, has left gaping wounds. It has caused such destruction in all aspects of life that some days I wonder if hubby and I will be able to keep our little truncated family intact. The person that my husband married died in 2007 and I am a very poor substitute.

I fought SO hard to have this chance. Dodged bullet after bullet . . . the stupid counselor, unemployment, and horrible insurance just to name a few. Next week I turn 35 - the dreaded fertility drop-off. What a heartbreaking plunge it might be. It can't end this way. It just can't.

What Not to Watch

One evening when I was bored, I considered watching this on Netflix:

Has anyone seen this? I ended up watching something else and I'm glad I did. A friend has since told me it's quite scary and offers little in the way of hope for the chronically stressed. The title alone is enough to stress me out - Stress: Portrait of a Killer.

We all know that many health problems are caused or exacerbated by stress. According to this documentary, prolonged stress can "shrink our brains, add fat to our bellies, and even unravel our chromosomes". After nearly four years of extreme unrelenting stress, I don't even want to think about how badly my body has been damaged. Or how much my life has been shortened.

My vacation was quite relaxing and actually almost pain-free, which was fabulous. The insurance issue, though, has continued to be a major source of stress. I was unable to get any clear answers regarding what my new insurance covers. The benefits manager at my husband's work was likewise unable to get any straight answers. Finally today the clinic's financial coordinator called to say that she finally got a response from the insurance company. They will cover exactly nothing. Not ultrasounds. Not blood tests. Many insurances that don't cover infertility will at least cover that. But not mine. Figures.

I think keeping COBRA coverage under these conditions is legitimate, although I'm sure some would disagree. It's a grey area I plan to take advantage of because it's high time something works out in my favor. We have $1200 in infertility coverage left on that policy and I intend to milk it. I'm glad to finally have some answers, painful as they are, just in time to get the COBRA premium paid. Why do we always have to cut these things so damn close? [Speaking of cutting it close, don't forget to enter my contest (see last post). There are just three days left!]

This employer-based insurance system really doesn't make sense. Why should an employer dictate my insurer and coverage? Having the government do it would be worse still. I want to be able to compare insurers and plans. I'm smart enough to decide what makes sense for me and my family. So are you! Power to the people!!

The Devil Inside

The year that Jeremiah and Miles died, 2007, I felt like I'd been run over by a truck.  For the last few years I feel like I'm getting whacked in the head repeatedly with a 2 x 4.  I get hit by bad news followed by more bad news followed by even more bad news.  It's better than being hit by a truck, but can't I get a break? 

Last Friday was my ultrasound to check the status of my evil twin cysts.  I went into it knowing I probably would not get great news (I've had a lot of pain the last few days - that's a bad sign) but I didn't expect to get hit with horrible news either.  That's what I got though, and I'm still reeling from the blow.

One cyst is resolving and is now 1.5 cm compared to 3.5 cm three weeks ago.  OK that part's good, but wait for it . . . The other diabolical cyst remains 3.5 cm and my doctor thinks it is an endometrioma.  If so, then the only way to get rid of it is surgery, which she strongly discourages.  She recommends proceeding with IVF anyway and she will try to work around it.  The cyst is likely to have a negative effect on follicle production.  I only got 6 mature eggs with my recent cyst-free IVF and just two embryos made it to transfer.  I don't feel very hopeful about my prospects with yet another handicap on top of all my other crippling handicaps.

Regardless of whether I proceed with IVF or not, one thing is certain - I will continue to face a lot of pain in my future.  What can I do but plow ahead as long as there's any hope of obtaining great joy to go along with that pain?  So I'm off The Pill for a few days and then will start back up and head into another long Lupron IVF cycle.  IF this all goes off according to plan [laughs bitterly] then stimulation meds would begin in early November, with retrieval right around my 35th birthday.

A Drug Deal Gone Bad

I actually had been handling Monday's bad news (IVF delayed because of cysts) rather well, I thought. Maybe it's because cysts are no surprise at this point. It's more of a surprise if I don't have them. I got the dates for IVF #2 soon after learning that IVF #1 had failed, but I never really let myself believe things would go according to plan. Never told anyone what the dates were. Never put any of the dates on my calendar or on this blog. I did joke to hubby, though, that if the IVF worked I could have big sore Boooooobs for Halloween. What a treat that would have been.

Anyway, I was managing very nicely until my drug shipment arrived yesterday along with a nasty surprise - my $10K drug coverage has just been exhausted. Price tag for the package - $4832!!! I thought we still had enough coverage for this next cycle, but it turns out that the pharmacy my insurance makes me use is the most expensive of them all for the drugs I'm on. Therefore, the $10K drug coverage was burned up after just one IVF and 3 Follistim IUI cycles. The pharmacy was supposed to call me in advance with the post-insurance cost of this cycle's drugs, but they didn't! They were also supposed to email me when they sent the package out, but they didn't. If they had, I obviously would have only ordered what was covered by insurance.

Q and I had a very tense 24 hours wondering if we'd be stuck with this bill. We thought we had this IVF thing figured out so could handle it without ending up in the poor house or the nut house or in separate houses, but this latest drama had me worried we'd be pushed over the edge. We were feeling the burn in our wallets, and then...

Finally this morning the pharmacy called me back to say they will take the drugs back since they screwed up by not calling me. Hallelujah, I'm saved!! *HUGE sigh of relief!*

Thanks to my cysts, I now have ample time to shop around for more reasonably priced drugs. Yesterday as events were unfolding, I got an email from another blogger who has leftover Follistim and is Lucky enough not to need it. How awesome is that? Can't get over the timing. Since I have some drugs left from last cycle, it shouldn't be too expensive to get the rest of what I need - certainly not $4800. Good thing, because we're still recovering from the recent bout with unemployment! So, that's the latest here at Cradles and Graves, where nothing happens without a great deal of unnecessary drama!

What I Did For Summer Vacation

This next week will be spent playing hard with my kids and getting them ready for school the following week. Tania, who despite my best efforts remains the baby of the family, will be off to kindergarten. Since it's nearly back-to-school time, here is my essay on What I Did For Summer Vacation:

I spent my summer vacation doing drugs and getting medically assaulted. Lots of people saw my increasingly public privates. It was no fun and I didn't even get knocked up. The end.

Well, that's the end for the summer but my battle drags on. I finally got to talk to my doctor and the plan is to do the long Lupron protocol again for the next IVF cycle. This time, though, I'll be on higher doses of stimulation meds from the beginning. Since I'm already on The Pill, things could move along very quickly assuming I don't have another cyst to mess it all up. Also, we found out hubby doesn't get insurance at his new job until November, so we'll still be on our COBRA insurance.

The perinatology clinic finally called me back to schedule a consult. Yay! That appointment is scheduled for the 8th. Now I have to go through stacks and stacks of medical records and research so I can throw around some medical terminology, sound really knowledgeable, and maybe even get taken seriously!

Strike One

Forgive me for going incommunicado this past week. I have been too depressed for words. On Thursday of last week, just five days after my embryo transfer, a Sense of Impending Doom descended and would not disperse no matter what I did. It was far too early to tell whether the IVF had worked or not, yet somehow I knew that my little embryos had died. It's finally official with today's beta.

When Jeremiah died, I felt death come for him but dismissed the feeling as silly paranoia. When Miles died I knew it but didn't want to believe it. When I called the clinic they were very dismissive of my worries, but a few days later my worst fear was confirmed. Even with my last loss - a very early loss cruelly termed a "chemical" pregnancy - I felt the same unshakeable and crushing darkness suddenly descend just before I got the beta results showing I was pregnant. It's a macabre sixth sense. Have I developed such an intimate relationship with death as to feel its cold hand accutely even when it comes to snatch something so tiny as my embryos?

I feel like Death has me in, well, a death grip. It stalks and kills any small hopes I try to cling to. It makes me despair of ever escaping this darkness. It follows me wherever I go. It leaves me dark shadows where laughing children should have been.

Since my doctor is gone this week, there was no discussion of how to proceed from here. I suppose the plan is to plow ahead and do IVF two more times. Sure, maybe I could actually get pregnant, but then what? It's hard to see much hope in this. I feel possessed by death such that every new life that tries to grow in me is already infected with death before it even has a chance to begin.

Fun with Math: PIO Shots

For the past few days I've been doing Progesterone in Oil shots. Yes, all by myself!  Because the progesterone is in a sesame oil base, it is not only thick and difficult to inject, but it also contains fat. While I was on my two days of post-transfer bed rest, I decided to figure out exactly how much fat I will be injecting into my backside before the pregnancy test:

1 T of sesame oil contains 14 grams of fat, therefore . . .
1 cc of sesame oil contains .946792 grams of fat
There are 12 PIO shots before the pregnancy test

That means I'll be getting as much fat as there is in a Snickers bar, but with none of the satisfaction.

Hmmm...how would you prefer to plump your posterior? A:

Or B:

(This represents the actual amount of oil I'll inject into my booty by beta day)

That's a rhetorical question if ever there was one!  "A" is looking pretty good, but sadly Snickers has not been shown to increase the odds of successful pregnancy. If it did, I'd have half a dozen kids by now. Of course, if I actually get pregnant again I will be delighted to continue with the PIO shots. For now, I'm choosing C: Both.  Mmm-mmm...bootylicious!

A Tale of Two Embryos

The last two days have been the best of times and the worst of times. The best part, of course, is that I had two embryos transferred - a 5 cell and an 8 cell:

The other two embryos fragmented/arrested so there's nothing to freeze, but at least I got my two to transfer. Here they are after transfer:

The last few days have also been quite rough because I've not been feeling well at all. I started feeling awful the evening before the transfer (bloating, all-over aching) and have been feeling horrible ever since. Being optimistic is difficult when everything hurts. It's finally starting to let up now, though.  I suppose it could be very mild OHSS (ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome), though I've actually been losing weight - three pounds in as many days. I don't feel like being up and about even if it were allowed, but being in bed for two days creates a lot of pain of its own. I'm unaccustomed to the couch potato lifestyle and the inactivity has made me terribly sore.

Hubby has been taking care of the kids and the house. He also gives me a massage when he can, although his motives may be less than altruistic. Since he is being denied sex for a period of weeks, giving me a backrub is all the action he can get right now. Works for me.

It's now Day Two of bed rest and I'm bored out of my mind. Any suggestions of amusing movies, websites, youtube clips, etc. would be most appreciated!

Embryo ICU

The embryologist called this morning to say that of the twelve eggs retrieved, six were mature.  Four fertilized, but two did so later (not sure how this is possible with ICSI?).  The plan is to transfer the two frontrunners tomorrow and watch the two laggards a little longer to see if they're good enough to freeze. 

It's so wonderful to know that we have embryos growing, but strange that they are growing in a distant lab and not in me.  It feels a little like when my first son was in the NICU after he was born.  He was in the hospital for five days but I was discharged after one.  I felt terrible leaving my tiny baby there.  He should have been OK, but somehow my body hadn't worked right and he hadn't been able to grow properly.  I should have been able to take care of him and give him everything he needed, but instead I had to leave him in the care of others.  And now again, my body doesn't work right.  My embryos have been left in the care of others.  I actually wish someone else could continue growing them for me for the next nine months, but tomorrow they will be in my Womb of Doom.  Please pray they survive.

A Carton of Eggs

Egg retrieval went very well this morning. It was much easier than I'd imagined and I enjoyed the drugs very much. Best of all, we got a dozen eggs of which we hope at least seven will be mature. And, yes, I do feel silly for freaking out about my follicle count last week. Praying that one (or two!) of these will become a rainbow baby and bring vibrant color and light to my family again.

No Cornflakes Girl

Today hubby made me chicken ovums for breakfast. Tomorrow at breakfast time, my own eggs will be sucked out. So...no cornflakes, OJ, or even water after midnight tonight. We have to be at the clinic at 8:30 tomorrow and egg retrieval is an hour later.

Last night's trigger shot went surprisingly well. I thought maybe I should follow Rachel's advice and have hubby do it, but he's a needlephobe and was not keen on the idea. He was present for moral support and did the countdown for me to stick the needle in. Thanks hubby!

Those 1 1/2" needles are very intimidating compared to the cute little half-inchers. It was helpful that the nurse had drawn a big target on my rear in permanent marker so I knew right where to stick it. I got some 25 guage needles a few days ago, so I used that instead of the 22 guage. It didn't hurt at all! Hopefully I'll be saying the same thing about PIO shots in a few days' time.

I just cannot believe this is really happening. It's a little terrifying - not the retrieval itself, but what can happen because of it. The thought of not getting pregnant is scary, but so is the thought of getting pregnant. There is one reason I am quite looking forward to tomorrow ... it'll be nice to be free from anxiety for maybe ten minutes while I'm unconscious!

Things are getting kind of gross
And I go at sleepy time
This is not really happening
You bet your life it is

The Verdict is In

Today's ultrasound showed that my small follicles had all grown a dramatic 3 mm in just one day. Predicted mature egg yield now stands at 7, so I'll actually be having my eggs harvested! Previously it looked like we'd get maybe five which is a borderline number - great for IUI but not enough to justify IVF.

Thanks for all the encouraging words in recent days. This week has definitely been manic-depressive with all the wild ups and downs. I assure you I'm still seriously so sane, though. It's just that I get scared stiff sometimes when I think of all that's gone wrong in the last few years, and all the things that have to go just right to get a rainbow baby. The nurses yesterday and today were decidedly more cheery and that helps. Today's nurse even got me another prescription for Follistim and Menopur so I can get them now while I still have great insurance. That way I have a stockpile in case this cycle doesn't work. Strategery.

Still stimming tonight and tomorrow morning, then one more ultrasound and I'll trigger tomorrow evening. It'll be my first encounter with the big needle and I'm a bit apprehensive about it, but I'll get over it. I intend to do the deed by myself, although obviously rear shots are logistically more difficult than belly ones.

So that's where we stand. Retrieval should be Wednesday and I'm assuming we'll do a day three transfer on Saturday.

It has nothing to do with the topic of trying to get knocked up, but I'll leave you with an amusing anecdote involving a sexy babydoll nighty: After dinner this evening, my five-year-old daughter came into the kitchen wearing a babydoll nighty she'd found in my closet. "Mommy, why don't you ever wear this?! It's beautiful!" Pretty funny. Although it is sad that a sexy babydoll nighty no longer has anything at all to do with trying to get knocked up :(