Whew!

So after a night of freaking out trying to figure out how to structure all this around my five day trip to Seattle (contemplating everything from canceling the cycle all together and going or canceling the trip and pissing tons of people off – and not being able to explain to anyone why I’m canceling), the clinic called this morning.

They told me they absolutely have to do a Day 10 ultrasound since I’ll be medicated and I need to be monitored.  Day 8 just won’t do.  So I thought, ok, I can shimmy my departure date a bit and still make it to the part of the trip I actually have to work.  So that leaves just the issue of the day I actually ovulate – but they said Femara tends to slow growth (that’s how it helps your lining, apparently – it gives you more time to build it up), and since I tend to be a Day 15-17 kind of person, they weren’t too concerned about my missing it (I get back in town Day 13).  They also said they’ll put me on the “trigger shot” to give myself 36 hours before the IUI so the timing will be just right and the eggs will be shot out of their homes.  I’m cool with this because it means not worrying about mixed up timing.  So what they do is measure your follicle growth on Day 10, then based on that and typical growth rates, they know when you should “trigger” and when to do the IUI.  That all works for me.

So I was about to e-mail Seattle lady to grovelingly ask my flight to be changed…when the phone rang again.  Oh, I have to go in for a baseline ultrasound today to determine if there are cysts, because if there are I can’t start Femara and have to junk the cycle.  Ahhh….what?  Somewhere in my subconscious I knew there was something about checking for cysts first…probably back when we were talking Clomid…but it hadn’t really occurred to me that I might not be able to take Femara at all; I just assumed I’d take it and then we’d see what happens on Day 10.  But no – they have to check me out first.  My heart started pounding.

I spent the morning doing busy work and getting increasingly anxious, then headed up there for yet another $200 ultrasound.  I swear I nearly had a frickin’ heart attack thinking that after ALL THIS this ffing cycle could be canceled, too, before I can even take the meds (that I already paid $160 for).  But for once, just once, an ultrasound revealed good news for me – no cysts, just nice resting ovaries, safe in their slumber, with little baby follicles developing as they should.  So the only issue now is what happens next Friday.  This will tell me if a) I respond to the drug at all (the clinic said they’ve only seen one person not respond, and she had severe PCOS); if I don’t this means moving on to injectables which I kind of can’t wrap my mind around right now, and b) when to trigger/do the IUI.  If I suddenly start developing early and it looks like we’re going to have to go on Sun or Mon, I’m telling you right now I am canceling this trip.  No way I hell I’m missing my shot for that bullshit.  Hopefully we’ll go Tues and the worst thing that will happen is I’ll have to bring the hcg shot on the airplane, which apparently involves letters from the doctor and ice packs.  But again hopefully I can trigger Monday night when I get home.

I don’t mind admitting as I made my way from the clinic through the beautiful seminary grounds next door to my remote parking spot, I said a little prayer.  Hey, there are no atheists in fox holes, right?  And if this isn’t a fox hole I don’t know what is!