Thursday, March 26, 2009

Weird signs everywhere I look

I'm usually attuned to signs, patterns or coincidences. It might just be that I'm more aware now, or that I'm constantly searching for signs, but twice something pretty weird happened on the drive home from the clinic.

After the first transfer, we were stuck behind a truck with the word "impregnate" in big letters on the back panel of the truck. It was so weird, because you couldn't miss it. Regardless of how hard we tried, we couldn't pass this truck (there was only one lane, because of a construction zone.) How often do you see that word on a truck?

Today, a car drove by us with a license plate spelling "MIDWIFE." I joked with my husband that we needed to follow her and make an appointment...

Day 3 transfer (IVF/ICSI #2)

Instead of waiting until Day 5, the RE recommended that we try a Day 3 transfer with this cycle. "Your body might be a better incubator for these embryos than our culture media," he said, gently trying to reassure me.

He wanted to look at the embies this morning, and then make a recommendation. We discussed our options telephonically, and there was a lot of uhm-ing and ah-ing before settling on transferring 3 embryos today (rather than waiting until the weekend). My gut was saying Day 3 since last month's Day 5 didn't work. He agreed. I'm a big believer in switching things up.

That resulted in a few panicked last-minute call-ins to work, and driving to the clinic in haste. I called the acupuncturist on the way to give him a heads up that I'd be stopping in unexpectedly. Oh, the drama, because both the acupuncturist and my RE had to leave at noon today. We had to get me knocked up - and fast - but without stressing me out. Try that one on for size.

We were there by 9:45, I had a blissful acupuncture session, and then went to the clinic for the transfer. The RE had other procedures in between, so he was doing a retrieval, then an HSG, while squeezing in my transfer. I'm very thankful for his multi-tasking ability, and never making me feel rushed despite all the other patients waiting for him.

Encounters with the spe.culum are never fun, but it's particularly alarming when they "prep" you and then walk out to get the embryos. I always feel tempted to yell out, "Hey, wait up! Come back here! You can't leave me like this!" The RE explained he wants to be sure he can access my cervix and uterus before they get the embryos.

The RE never leaves me alone - all prepped like that - for more than a minute or two before coming back with a nurse, an embryologist, and our embryos. But man oh man. It's still a pretty darn vulnerable position to be in for any amount of time, despite my husband's presence. And trying to relax "those" muscles while you're "with spe.culum." Well, don't get me started.

As with the last cycle, the quality of our embryos isn't good. My RE didn't sound very hopeful that it would result in a pregnancy, but he said he's seen poor quality embryos turn into beautiful babies, and even twins, so all is not lost.

I'd rather be prepared than have sunshine blown up my skirt.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Fertilization report (IVF/ICSI #2)

Fert report just in:
13 eggs
12 mature enough to fertilize with ICSI
10 embryos dividing
3 were transferred (poor quality)

Last month's fert report:
13 eggs
9 mature enough to fertilize with ICSI
8 embryos divided
7 made it to day 5
3 were transferred (poor quality), none implanted
1 made it to freeze

Monday, March 23, 2009

Retrieval news (IVF/ICSI #2)

You may remember that 13 is my lucky number, and that 13 eggs were retrieved with last month's cycle on Monday, the 23rd. Well, today's retrieval on Monday, the 23rd, yielded the exact same number of eggs: 13.

How very consistent of the universe and my beautifully bloated ovaries. I'm particularly ecstatic with that number, since my ovaries were distorted by ginormous endometriomas just 3 months ago. I never thought we'd retrieve any of my own eggs, let alone 13!

As I write this, I'm acutely aware of so many of you who are contemplating DE, going through a DE cycle, and others who have done multiple DE cycles. Infertility is so unfair, and even as I'm celebrating my victory today, my heart breaks for you. To my friends with Endo who are TTC, if you need an operative laparoscopy or laparotomy, go the extra mile to find the best surgeon money can buy. Seriously.

Dh has much to celebrate today too, as the urologist found sperm with PESA... again! Last month, there was not one motile sperm to be seen after 16 attempted aspirations and four uses of the dreaded gun. We were just happy that they found tadpoles resembling sperm, but none were swimming. Despite ICSI, we ended up with bad quality embryos. Today, lo and behold, the urologist hit the epididymal jackpot.

I was already prepped for ER, complete with IV and heart rate monitors, and anxiously awaiting news. Nothing like sitting there all ready but alone, watching the clock, knowing you'll be ovulating any second, and waiting for news on the sperm front. Tick tock. Tick tock.

My reproductive endocrinologist popped into the OR, silently, but with his hand held up as if to "high five" me. "You won't believe this," he said with a huge grin. "They found lots of beautiful, motile sperm this time!" He went on to tell me how he made the urologist "visualize the healthy sperm" before doing the aspiration. My RE believes in a holistic approach, combines western and eastern medicine, and encourages his patients to go for acupuncture.

"The urologist doesn't believe in that stuff and always pooh-poohs me and my visualizations, but I made him do it anyway!" he said, chuckling. This time, they filled 3 vials with 3 sperm aspirations, and can pick and choose to find the best 13 swimmers to fertilize my eggs.

Hubby came into the OR, gloating. He told me he saw the little guys swimming on the microscope's monitor and how he just couldn't believe it. It is more than 15 years since his vasectomy, and a decade since the failed reversal. We didn't think there were any motile sperm to be had.

Another funny moment was when the anesthesiologist asked me about any prior surgeries. I rattled off the surgeries. "Are you in the medical field?" I laughed, and said, "No." What I was thinking: "No, but I have a degree from"

I soon fell into a happy, Versed-induced "sleep" as Dh held my hand. The ER was over before I knew it. A little spotting, a little cramping, but nothing bad. I didn't need Tyle.nol.

We had left the clinic when the nurse practitioner left a voicemail on the cell. "Nothing to worry about, just give us a call when you get this message," she said. Of course, we worried. We called, and the cherry on top is that they want us to sign a consent form so they can cryopreserve all the gorgeous, extra, healthy sperm. Is this really happening? It feels like I'm living a dream, except I've done my first PIO ever and my hiney is hurting, so it must all be real.

My incredible husband is still on cloud 9. He's the man. Normally, he doesn't say a whole lot on the fertility topic and just kind of takes things as they come, but he can't stop telling me about seeing his own "real, live, swimming sperm!" As in, "not a photo, not a frozen image, not somebody else's. They were really swimming. Fast!"

Can this day get any better?

What If? in overdrive, the night before ER #2

Before I fell asleep Sunday night, the night before retrieval, I clung to Dh. The serenity of the past two weeks suddenly evaporated. He asked what was wrong, and with long pauses inbetween, I whispered all of my fears:

What if they don't find sperm on retrieval day?

What if my eggs are now overcooked on the higher stim dosage?

What if they find sperm, but the embryo quality is again not good?

What if I don't get pregnant this cycle?

What if the one frostie from the last cycle we have doesn't take during a FET cycle?

What if we can't afford another fresh cycle?

What if we have nothing more to freeze from this cycle?

What if infertility and IVF destroys our relationship?

What if I do get pregnant this cycle?

What if I have a healthy baby, but I'm a horrible mom? (can you see the downward spiral of anxiety?)

And on it went. I sighed, but didn't cry. Hubby just held me, and didn't try to talk me out of all the "What ifs?" Needless to say, I didn't sleep much.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Trigger (IVF/ICSI #2, awaiting ER)

I'm no baby when it comes to pain and needles. I'm no masochist either, but I do have Endo, and tolerate pain well. Yowser! The Ovidrel trigger and I had a hard time bonding tonight. I've triggered with Ovidrel before, and it didn't feel like this with my 1st cycle. I'm wondering if my belly is just so sensitive after doing 2 back-to-back cycles? Or maybe my ovaries are so huge right now and everything is more sensitive?

In fact, I poked myself with the Ovidrel needle once tonight and it was about halfway in when I realized I just couldn't go further. I pulled it out and tried in another spot and it was better, but I still had to go extra slow with the plunger.

My bo.obs and ovaries feel like they're about to explode. With the last cycle, my e2 was over 4,000, but they didn't coast me. I'd like to know what my e2 was this time around that forced them to go from 300 iu Gonal-F to 150 to 75 to coasting. I'll be asking for copies of my medical records tomorrow, because my clinic is notoriously bad with sharing info. It's like pulling teeth. And then I'll have lots to obsess over during the 2ww. [evil grin]

Monday's retrieval can't come soon enough.

Coasting along (IVF/ICSI #2, stim day 10)

Friday - Stim day 10 - ended up being the stim day that wasn't. Methinks I've built up "needle credits" in the universe, and that I was fortunate enough to redeem one last night. No stims, just Lupron. Coasting... what a concept. If I never have to see another Gonal-F pen it will be too soon.

I was so busy at work yesterday, that I only remembered to retrieve the cell phone voicemail with my blood test results and dosage instructions after 6 p.m. Thank goodness the nurse left a detailed message, because the clinic closes at 4 p.m.

Doing a second cycle has changed me. There is a calmness about the whole IVF thing I never thought I'd have the privilege to experience. Actually, it's probably 50% calmness and 50% exhaustion, because there's not much fight left in me after doing 2 cycles back-to-back. Thankfully, this cycle was 2 days shorter than the last one, but I'm twice as tired and uncomfortable this time around.

I'm almost resigned now, just rolling with it. I'm in "whatever" mode a whole lot more. Monitoring daily? Sure, whatever. Electrical stimulation with acupuncture? Sure, whatever. Halving my stim meds twice? Sure, whatever. Unfortunately, the little bit of excitement I could muster with the last cycle is also gone, but I hope to reclaim that after Monday's retrieval.

There's also an overall lackadaisical-ness. To the point where I did my shots a bit earlier 2 nights ago because I wanted to go to sleep really badly. I was a spaz with IVF #1. It felt like it consumed my thoughts every second of every day. For the two hours prior to the shots, I couldn't focus on anything else. The nurse said an hour this way or that way for doing the shots won't negatively impact the cycle, but with IVF #1, I did all the shots at the same time nightly - actually, to the minute!

I was watching a movie last night and realized late that I hadn't done the Lupron shot yet... I had better get my act together before tonight's 8 p.m. trigger.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Follies in the crockpot (IVF/ICSI #2, stim day 9)

Today's monitoring appointment wasn't at all what I expected. I hoped I'd be triggering sooner, but apparently not. The brash nurse - who needs to be reminded that she can't gesture with the hand that is maneuvering Wanda - said firmly, "You're not ready." (I think she could see the rebellion on my face: "Yes I am! Yes I am!" like a 2-year old. "Come on, follies, prove me right!") But alas, it was not to be.

I'm disappointed, but I don't want the RE to retrieve immature eggs for the sake of my comfort. We've come too far, these follies and I. Most of the follies are around 15 mm and they need to be at 18 mm. We're almost there, but not quite. The follies are in the slow cooker, which might not be a bad pace after all.

Yesterday, my lining was at 11, and they saw 9 follies. Today she measured 12 follies around 15 mm in size "with a couple more that might be ready by retrieval." Compared to the last cycle when we only ever saw about 8 right up until the end, things are looking up. Still only 2 follicles on the right, and 10+ on the over-compensating left ovary.

My estrogen must be through the roof, because they insist on close monitoring, and seeing me every day, tomorrow included. They have me almost coasting tonight, but not quite. Just 75 units of Gonal-F. I listened to the dosage message the nurse left on my cell phone three times, because she mumbled and I couldn't believe she said "75" and not "175." Just 2 clicks, that would be a piece of cake!

Tonight might be my last encounter with the Gonal-F pen... should I write "for this cycle" or "forever?" Either way, I might jinx it.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Whine, whine, whine - not the kind you drink (IVF/ICSI #2, stim day 8)

The 2-hour drive to and from the clinic is getting old fast. I was real chipper about it the first dozen times or so, but now? Not so much.

Morning monitoring combines my least favorites activities of getting up early (5 p.m.), foregoing coffee, driving alongside truckers on the highway, getting blood drawn ("You have scar tissue - it's hard to find a vein") and of course, being violated by Wanda. As if we infertiles don't suffer enough already.

Trying to accomplish all of the above with an exhausted, bloated body is just damn near impossible. I'm not a morning person. Can you tell?!

Today's monitoring brought a surprise phone call from the RE's office to halve my meds dosage tonight, and instead of coming back for monitoring on Friday, they asked that I come in tomorrow. Please, oh please, let me trigger earlier than Saturday. I'm ready for the stick-up to peacefully hand over my eggs.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

The price of frugality (IVF/ICSI #2, stim day 7)

Gonal-F pens come in at least two different doses - the 300 iu and the 900 iu. The trouble started when I had meds left over in the red pen from IVF/ICSI #1.

Instead of starting a new 300 iu blue pen for the 300 dose, I used up what was left in the last 900 iu red pen from last month's cycle. At almost a $1,000 for the 900 pen, that seemed only reasonable. What I didn't take into account, was the belly real estate, and the sensitive tummy from last month's cycle and all the acupuncture.

I've been click counting to double check the dialed vs. dispensed dosage. (Yes, I'm a.nal retentive.) 1 click = 37.5 iu. 8 clicks = 300 iu. The "problem" is that many of the 300 pens contained more doses than what was indicated on the label. So, after dispensing 300 iu, there'd be another 75 iu left over to use the next night. Instead of throwing it out, I ended up injecting 3 times with 3 different Gonal-F pens tonight. 75 iu + 75 iu + 150 iu.

When you add the Lupron, that's 4 injections in one night. Lovely.

Monday, March 16, 2009

All's well except for the oranges (IVF/ICSI #2, stim day 6)

I had a wonderful Nurse Practitioner wield the Wanda this morning. She is one of the kind, gentle nurses who offers up blood test results, follicle size, and other information without being prompted.

My estradiol was over 400 on Saturday and today there are seven follies between 10-12 mm on the left, and two between 9-10 mm on the right. Apparently a few more might be waiting in the wings on my overachieving left ovary. I'm so relieved that everything seems to be on track. Ra, ra, ra follies!

The migraine is gone (hallelujah) and I feel great. The only minor complaints are:
1.) I feel like I swallowed two huge oranges whole. It's pretty darn uncomfortable, and my tummy is protruding like I'm pregnant. Oh, cruel world.

2.) I'm exhausted, and it's only Monday.

This time around has been much easier overall. I'm more resigned to being the marionette controlled by a group of manipulators. It's pretty amazing how easily I relinquished control this time around. If you knew me IRL, you'd be astounded.

Compared to last month's cycle, things are definitely moving much quicker. I'm on 300 iu Gonal-F now compared to the 150 iu start the last time around. The nurse predicted a Saturday (3/21) or Monday (3/23) retrieval. Aah, wouldn't it be simply wonderful to stim for 9 days instead of 12?

On the weirdness scale, an ER on 3/23 would be off the charts. With February and March dates falling on the same days of the week, this month has been a constant stream of déjà vu experiences. This month's cycle started two days later than last month's, but with the higher dose of meds, it looks like I'll be catching up. Not that I'm rushing to relive the BFN.

Last month's retrieval was on Monday, the 23rd. If that is indeed the retrieval date this time around, then the singleton due date for this cycle would be... wait for it... my birthday. Twins would be... on my brother's birthday. I about died when the calculator spat out those two precise dates.

A colleague, who didn't know when my birthday is, told me he has had a recurring dream about me the past two nights. In his dream, he was visiting me on my birthday (close to Christmas), and felt compelled to bring gold, frankincense and myrrh. But strangely, he said, he was visiting me at my house on my birthday, but the presents weren't for me. Someone else in my house was having a birthday. He knew he couldn't afford gold, so he had to find a substitute. Aah! He could bring Gold.schläger sch.napps! But then he realized, I couldn't drink. Hmmm. How very weird - and hopefully psychic of him.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

I'm seeing a pattern (IVF/ICSI #2, stim day 2)

The great news is that I'm already on day 2 of stims and feeling more optimistic than I thought I would. For anyone wondering how to get over a failed cycle, the answer is: try again.

The bad news is that I've been battling a migraine since yesterday. The nasty kind that includes visual disturbances, and have you wishing you could just throw up to get it over with.

I've been keeping track of my symptoms during the IVF cycle (so much to obsess over!), and interestingly enough, I had a migraine on day 2 of last month's IVF cycle as well. It must be my body trying to adjust to all the hormones. My migraines always coincide with shifts in hormone level (around ovulation/menstruation), sleep pattern changes, and physical exhaustion.

Combine crazy early morning monitoring appointments, the extra hor-moans, and the drug-induced exhaustion and you have a perfect recipe for a migraine. Ugh.

I might not be feeling like myself physically, but emotionally, equilibrium seems almost within reach. Today, I hardly flinched when a friend-in-the-know, who was too afraid to ask about the IVF cycle outcome, got excited when I said I felt nauseous.

She: "Does this mean it worked?" she exclaimed excitedly.

Me: "No, I haven't had the heart yet to tell you the cycle didn't work."

She: "Oh no. I'm so sorry. I was hoping nausea was a GOOD sign!"

Other friend who has adult children chimes in: "I could carry them babies for you!"

Me: [Trying hard not to throw up] Thanks, but I'll let you know if I need help.

Then there was the email conversation with my sweet, usually empathetic sister-in-law:

SIL: I'm sorry your little nest isn't full right now.
(Wtf?! I may have eggs, but I'm not a bird, 'kay?)

Me: Thanks, I appreciate you thinking about us. (It doesn't help to correct fertiles, it only aggravates me more.)

SIL: You know, I'm so overwhelmed with everything I have to do this weekend. I am throwing a stork party for my daughter!"

Me: (Speechless) !!

Having a baby and NOT having a baby has NOTHING to do with one another. That is the worst effin' segway I'd ever experienced. And THEN she sweetly tells me that she understands how I feel. Let me get this straight: you have two kids, one of whom is reproducing with a boy she hardly knows, and you know how I feel? Come on. And I was in SUCH a good mood with the migraine already.

Now if I can only figure out how to protect myself from insensitive remarks from fertiles. Step one might be to remind myself not to tell any fertile about this cycle, because the support I thought I'd get from fertile friends has proven to be a mirage. The closer you get to the oasis, the farther it moves away from you. I do have a few close (fertile) friends who gets it, and for that I'm eternally grateful.

I promise, tomorrow will be better. It just has to be.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

New plan! IVF/ICSI #2

Unfortunately, the only thing that has the potential to lift me out of this funk, is also the very same thing that could pull me deeper into the depths of despair. Attempting another cycle is the ultimate Catch-22. I *might* be damned if I do, but if I don't, I'm *certainly* damned.

How can I not give this another shot? If it wasn't for the money, I probably wouldn't have hesitated at all, but paying everything out-of-pocket makes this an agonizing decision.

Being the "leap of faith" kind of gal that I am, I found myself in the RE's office yesterday requesting that they change my beta bloodtest to a baseline for IVF/ICSI#2. The nurse practitioner looked at me somewhat shocked, but then obligingly did an u/s. This is how you know you've had too many u/s: when you start ASKING for them! :P

I hate that I was right, but AF had reduced my lining to 2.something (down from well over 10). There were about 10 antral follicles, and no cysts. Woot! (Forgive me, I'm trying hard to keep focusing on the silver lining.) It was cute how she counted on her fingers to figure out when I could start stims again.

I might be able to start stims for cycle #2 as early as tomorrow, if my progesterone level peters out enough by then. I'm going back for another blood test, and should know if I have a green light by the afternoon.

Typically, they make you wait out a cycle, but since I have severe Endo, I don't want to have two periods before I can try again. They suggested following the same flare protocol as it worked well for cycle #1. I'll be starting with 300 iu of Gonal-F instead of 150, but other than that, it's the same (Lupron 0.05 daily, Ovidrel trigger).

Right back in the saddle. Yeee-haaaw!

Monday, March 09, 2009

9dp5dt - Beta Result

I POAS this morning, and the digital HPT showed, "Not Pregnant." Well, that's unambiguous in a cruel way. Thankfully, I started processing and crying a week ago, so by the time I called the clinic for the hCG results, it didn't even sting.

It was as I suspected all along: a Big Fat Negative. I'm all cried out now, which, I guess, is a decent place to be given the circumstances.

Thank you for your incredibly supportive comments. It helped me cope, just knowing you truly understand. Thank you for not judging me or telling me to snap out of it.

Thank you for not spewing platitudes like my IRL friends:

  • "The time is just not right."

  • "It was not meant to be."

  • "God must have a different plan for you."

  • "You can't lose hope now! You've only tried once!"

Thank you for offering to cry with me. Thank you for being sad, angry and frustrated on my behalf. Thank you for caring enough to leave comments. Each and every comment resonated with me, and was appreciated. I came back and re-read them a few times, but didn't feel up to posting until tonight.

The IF community is incredible. Because of your support, and the triumphs of those of you who are/were in the trenches with us, I feel like I may just be able to muster the courage to try and kick infertility's butt.

So, here I am 9dp5dt, trying to get myself out of this funk by counting my cycle blessings, and finding the silver lining:

  1. My FSH/E2 is <10.

  2. The flare protocol worked well.

  3. I stimmed better than we expected, and didn't get OHSS.

  4. My lining was normal

  5. The cycle didn't get cancelled

  6. ER was much easier than anticipated. Bonus: no nausea, very little pain.

  7. There were more eggs retrieved than the number of follies I thought I had

  8. The urologist found sperm!!!

  9. We spent $700 on PESA instead of $4,000-$10,000 on MESA

  10. 8/13 eggs fertilized.

  11. We had 7 growing embryos (not good quality, but not a bad number).

  12. Transfer itself was a non-event on the pain scale.

  13. We have one embaby on ice.

Friday, March 06, 2009

Bleeding can't be good - 6dp5dt

It started 3dp5dt. At first, I was hopeful that the spotting was implantation bleeding. I was happily headachy, nauseaus, and crampy. And then the bleeding started with a vengeance. Now, after 3 days of non-stop heavy bleeding, I'm convinced it's my period. My hCG beta is Monday, 9dp5dt, so I have a weekend of pure torture ahead.

Dh is out of the country, and I can honestly say that I'm a mess. I spent yesterday in endless hopeless crying fits, and finally decided I needed to do something productive. So I gave myself a pep talk, got the vacuum cleaner and cleaned the house. I'll confess to ramming it into a few walls on purpose, just to take the edge off my anger and frustration. It didn't help one iota.

So there I was, on all fours, vacuuming underneath a cabinet, when the anger suddenly made room for the rawest sadness I've ever felt. I just lost it. I was in the fetal position on the floor, bawling, with the vacuum cleaner still in my hand. Ugly crying, the kind where your face contorts, and you can't catch your breath in time for the next sob.

I really don't know how to pick myself up from this dark place to try again. How do you do it? Where do I begin? I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to be devastated again and again.

These past few days I've felt as if I'm living someone else's life. This can not be happening to me. It was not supposed to end this way.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

Snowbaby news on 4dp5dt

On the day of transfer, the RE said none of the 7 embies we had available were of good quality. I felt crushed and suddenly uncertain. He even used the word "lousy," which is now seared into my memory and making it increasingly difficult to remain hopeful about a positive outcome.

In his defense, he was trying to explain why he didn't want to give me the exact embryo grade and fragmentation report, which I still think is just BS. "I can tell you the quality is not good. But if I tell you they're lousy instead of saying they're beautiful embryos, you won't be able to stay positive." How patronizing. So, what was he saying? He'd rather lie to me so I can hold onto false hope? Ugh.

We decided to transfer 3, and he said they'd watch the other 4 to see if any could be cryopreserved. Tonight, we received a letter from the clinic informing us that one made it to freeze! We actually have a little snowbaby, frozen in time, and waiting for us to be ready if this cycle doesn't pan out.

2 of the 3 we transferred weren't blasts on day 5, so it has given me hope that they might just be up to the task of implanting.

Va.ginal suppository hunt, courtesy of Murphy

Sil said... "I once dropped my last dose of Clomid in the toilet. I scooped it out, stared at it, wiped it a bit, and popped it in my mouth. The things we do!"

I can so relate. It reminded me of another Murphy-at-his-best episode in the life of me. As if there haven't been enough amusing anecdotes courtesy of the ever-present Murphy already! I graduated from supression and stim needles to progesterone suppositories last week. Much lovelyness, these little yellow egg-shaped Pro.metrium bullets. All 60 of them. I know how many, not because I read the label. Oh noooo, that would be too easy.

When I picked the pill bottle up by its childsafe lid, the entire contents hopped off the bathroom counter and onto the tile floor like popping corn. They were scattered about with the random intent of a Jackson Pollock. The dog sniffed around eagerly for "bonbons" before I was able to shoo him out safely, close the bathroom door, and proceed with my va.ginal suppository hunt. The floor was a little... uhm... dusty, because I hadn't vacuumed in recent days (hey, I was resting between retrieval and transfer, and then after transfer, okay?!). So there I was on my hands and knees on the bathroom floor (ick!), with even my double jointed arms unable to reach all the places they had rolled into.

I grabbed the closest thing I could find - an empty Ovidrel box! - and raked in what I could reach. After about 10 minutes, the search-and-rescue mission eventually yielded 59, minus the ones I had used. The last one had rolled into a spot underneath our elevated vanity where it was beyond impossible to retrieve. The one that got away. Oh well.

Now my only problem is to... ahem... de-fluff the little buggers prior to... ahem... insertion. It's not like I can rinse them off, so I've been wiping them as best I can and hoping the 2-minute rule applies to them too.

To quote Sil, "The things we do!"