I realize that my week 3 log and report is coming directly on the heels of week two, but there was a lot going on in week two – and immediately thereafter, when I should have been doing my report.
So this week was a bit less eventful – eventually. It got off to a rough, then rougher start before fading into a more even keel by week’s end. Running itself pretty much blew chunks, but not a whole lot I can do about that right now.
Saturday, March 30: 13 miles, most of them with my weekend running group (!), Pilates/core class. My mom was here and things were still going well at this point; after all, it had only been one afternoon. I drove up to the hotel she was at (she requires handicapped accessible surroundings, which we do not have), left my car there for her as there was an AA meeting she wanted to attend while I ran, and then ran down to our local running path and ran backwards until I met up with the group. I felt surprisingly good, which was a nice relief. The day itself got more stressful; not only did I begin to fully realize the extent of my mother’s illness and immobility, but when we were cooking that afternoon, she chose to delve into the topic of my abusive stay in foster care in an attempt to either discredit my brother’s stories or assuage her own conscience. Happy Easter! HCG trigger shot tonight – 5,000 units of hcg suspended in 1 ml of sterile fluid. The funniest part is that after the events of the day, I actually almost forgot the shot. At 8:57, as Darris and I were snacking in the kitchen, I yelled “CRAP!” and grabbed the drugs. Still got it all mixed and injected by 9:10 or so – not a big deal. But damn, does this shot hurt.
Sunday, March 31: OFF. Happy Easter! It was a bittersweet day; I was so happy to spend time with my sister-in-law and my nieces, but having both mothers here was tough. The part where my mother chose to discuss breastfeeding and her strong and personal opinions of her patients on the labor and delivery unit where she used to work (she’s a retired labor and delivery and post-partum care nurse) with my sister-in-law was also a bit rich. When I finally asked her to stop, considering my current situation, she responded: “I’m sorry, honey – it’s just a bond that [your SIL] and I share.” Begin to consider buying a full set of knives and allowing people to choose which one they twist in my back. No shots!!! After 17 shots over 16 days, my legs finally get a break. So nice.
Monday, April 1: Single spinning class. As luck would have it, the stress of my mother’s visit totally implodes before and on the way to the IUI appointment. I’m stressed out because I just want to go home, go to bed, and be left alone, but my mom is still here for the morning and we have (very) late Christmas gifts planned before I take her to the airport. DB then announces that he’s just scheduled a second meeting, meaning that I’m also going to be alone with my mother all morning, and I get a very dark attitude. The truth of the matter is, there’s not a whole lot I can do to entertain my mom – she can really only sit on the couch, and we’ve talked throughout the weekend. So now I’m not going to feel well and I’m going to be stuck “killing time.” DB feels put upon and I feel abandoned and hormonal, and that combined with the stress leads to an absolute blow out on the drive and sitting in the parking lot. Gauntlets are thrown.
Now, let’s go deliberately conceive a baby, what do you say?
Well, between a series of waiting room texts and the actual time alone in the waiting room, we get the apologies in and re-adjust our attitudes. It’s a fragile reconciliation to be sure, but even in our anger, we both realize that of course we’re terribly stressed out, and more importantly, we deeply love each other and just faced an icky situation where we both got overwhelmed at the exact same time.
My absolute favorite doctor (!), and the one who personally oversees my treatment plan is the one who does the insemination. Jokes abound about the fact that he’s not actually tried to knock me up yet, so we’ll see how good he is. He tells me in front of God and DB that even if I work out that same day, it won’t make a difference and not to beat myself up about it.
After the appointment, I get the bright idea to watch a movie with my mom and that makes life much easier. I pull up our indoor chaise so I can lay down, and life starts to chill back out. The cramps finally subside around 5 or so; they are not as bad as last month’s, but not exactly pleasant either.
Tuesday, April 2. 8 totally blech miles. That about says it; I just feel like total crap. Sluggish and gross. Well, ladies, last month I was somewhat done at this point. But I have a special treat in store for me. My doctor has decided to start me on progesterone supplementation (evil P!) during the luteal phase, because the two chemical pregnancies seem to suggest there may be a progesterone-related defect in my luteal phase (see Week 5!, Cycle One). Now, I do have the best of four worlds: progesterone is delivered in one of four ways, either orally, in shots, in a Monistat-style gel (gross), or by shoving the oral capsule where the sun don’t shine. I get the shoving the oral capsule where the sun don’t shine. The good news about this? Well, side effects are greatly reduced because the progesterone is not absorbed by the bloodstream. This particular method of administration allows the progesterone to be absored directly and solely by the uterus, without getting into the blood. Also, the capsule is no mess – there’s no leaky discharge or any grossness like that. The first night it kind of freaks me out to just shove a pill up there, but hey – it’s amazing what we infertile girls get used to. 100 mg of Prometrium (progesterone).
Wednesday, April 3. 10 totally blech miles and a single spin class. The trend of crappy Wednesday runs continues. I want to blame it on evil P, but since it’s allegedly not in my bloodstream, that’s a stretch. 100 mg of Prometrium. Bizarre and upsetting dreams.
Thursday, April 4. 10 miles that feel totally blech but turn out to be faster than I thought. I haven’t been wearing a watch during my runs because I don’t want to beat myself up, but when I get home, the microwave clock reveals I’m a full 10 minutes earlier than my worst case scenario. Silver lining – running only feels like crap. The spin class, however, is a disaster; I’m nauseous for most of it, which is a side effect of progesterone no matter how it’s administed. Totally exhausted by early afternoon. Fatigue gets so bad that while I am talking to DB in my office, I suddenly say “I really have to go sleep now,” at which point I go downstairs, get into bed and fall asleep immediately. I later tell him I do not even remember getting into bed, only announcing that I had to sleep. Start wondering what the rest of the progesterone-supplemented weeks have in store for me. 100 mg of Prometrium. More crazy dreams.
Friday, April 5. 10 slightly more inspired mid-day miles. The weather is gorgeous, which certainly helps, and my mood is a bit better. Though tired, I manage to stay awake all day without a nap. 100 mg of Prometrium. The weird dreams continue and I barely rest; I wake up several times in the night disturbed by them. This is a “side-effect” of the prometrium, but what’s really happening to me are pregnancy dreams – I have both hcg and high levels of progesterone in my system. My body thinks it’s pregnant, and it’s just responding to the chemicals. The truth, however, is that I’m somewhat relieved – I have heard absolute horror stories about progesterone supplementation, and thus far, it’s not the nightmare (pun intended) it could have been.
Weekly totals: 51 miles; 3 hours of spinning; 5,000 units of hcg; 400 mg of Prometrium; slightly better attitude.