ultrasound tomorrow

Tomorrow at 8 am I will be having my ultrasound and if the lining is fine, which it always is, then I will be asked to stop the suprefact and to start progesterone. Normally you would hear me whine about the bloating, constipation, and the general sensation that I should urgently strangle kind looking strangers in order to alleviate the mandatory bitchiness, but this cycle I am so happy to be finally done with SuperFat that I don't even care about progesterEvil. (clearly I have been doing this for far too long, if I have starting to nickname the meds so lovingly).

Today I had the best, best, bestest breakfast, consisting of a plate of fruit, some sliced smoked salmon, an egg, and about one forkful of this fabulous french crepe filled with grated apple cooked in custard. (I would have snuck much more than a forkful in, but sadly MrH noticed what I was doing and asked me to stop)  I also had half a French pastry during the conference (which I also snuck in while MrH was not looking), and a bit of thin crust pizza which I disguised under a lot of salad, but that didn't work, MrH did notice, and asked me to please refrain from eating for the whole of Africa.  (I am eating for the whole of Africa, which is why the whole continent is malnourished and starving, kinda like me for the past three days).

I have even been diligent about my exercise tonight, although after about 5 km running I noticed in the adjacent mirror that my fat was jiggling in very disturbing fashion and decided to move to the elliptical trainer, which was next to a darker, more slimming mirror.  With the stress of the impending IVF, I really cannot tolerate seeing fat jiggle, it is too much for my frail nerves.  Although the show I watched on TV about liposuction was somewhat nerve-soothing.  There's always hope.

I must remember to take a picture of the gym tomorrow, it is quite fancy as well, in particular the powder room, with all sorts of creams and lotions and white fluffy towels, bathrobes and slippers.  The princess is very happy here.

I don't have OCD, not even a little bit

I sat through an entire day of lectures, and heroically stayed awake the whole time.  That is quite an achievement, especially with the 7 am wake up time (the princess does NOT like to get up before 8 am).  What is even more of an achievement is that I did not have a single pastry, and boy, did they have fabulous looking treats the whole day at the conference!  French pastries of all kind, cheese platters, fruit platters, cold cuts, etc.  All I had was coffee.  Lots of it.  Which is how I managed to stay awake to begin with.

At the end of the day, my total calorie intake was hovering around 1400 or so, a little more than I had planned, but tolerable.  I think I will be content with anything below 1500 for now, as long as I run my 4.5 miles as usual. I was alone in the hotel's fabulous workout room.  They provide towels, water, toiletries, a nice sauna (that was so relaxing after the workout), and once again I felt very pampered.  Tomorrow I am hoping that I can get my foot into BEDO, a nice clothing store in Vancouver which, if my memory serves me right, tends to always have a sale that overlaps this conference (I swear this is not why I signed up for it.  The French pastries are not the reason either.  I am called towards higher learning, 's all).

To prove once and for all that I do, undeniably, have obsessive compulsive disorder, here is what I did this evening after my workout:
9:30  sauna, drink Perrier
9:45 get back to room, undress, have a hot bath
10:00 weigh myself, weighing in at an ALL TIME HIGH of 168 lb. Never before have I been this heavy while non pregnant.  The scale is not my friend.  Will toss it from 22nd floor and never ever weigh myself again.
10:30  pee.  Weigh myself again:  167 lb.  This is looking better.  Go back to reading cheap girlie book while holding MrH's hand in fabulous bed.
11:00 pee again.  Weigh again, just for kicks:  166.6 lb.  Feeling A LOT less anxious.  This scale is not so bad after all.  Perhaps I should buy one for home as well.
11:45 pee again.  Should not have drank so much water.  Resist urge to weigh again, since I need to prove to myself that I am in control of my OCD.
11:46 after long debate, weigh myself again.  166.1 lb
Go to bed a happy woman.
Can't wait to pee again in the morning.

So cold

It might seem odd that a woman like me, coming from far North, in a small town where the current temperature is -22C should complain of the incredible bone chilling cold in Vancouver.  This morning we went to the boat (MrH's surrogate child) and had to sit on it until the temperature warmed up inside from -3C to above zero, in order to prevent the pipes from bursting when the engine was turned on.  We had a small ceramic heater and another small gas heater, as well as an alcohol stove on which I made some Roiboos tea.  Brrrr. It warmed up a little, but the entire day I felt chilled, and had a migraine, and had to pee non stop because of the cold.  I was constantly cold, headachey, nauseated, and needing to pee.  On top of that, I was hungry.  After the little stint on the boat, we went to Capers (it's like a Whole Foods in US, organic food) and had a warm meal (which cost a little more than a restaurant fillet steak with veggies and rice would have, perhaps including desert).  We had some steamed veggies, with palak paneer, and a cauliflower/peas/potato casserole (about two tablespoons of each), plus a carrot ginger soup which I could not resist because I was so bloody cold.  Because of the carrot ginger soup, I think I am at 1200 calories today, otherwise I would have stayed within the limits.  It is a bit too cold for 1000 calories, I am thinking at the moment.

This whole chillin' experience makes me wonder whether it is possible to go through life without owning a pair of Uggs. I have tried to avoid them up to now, but enough is enough, say my cold feet.
What makes it so unbearable is the fact that everywhere you go, it is cold.  For instance, inside Capers, I had to keep my outdoors coat on, and put my gloves on whenever not handling the spoon.  In my town back home, it is -20 to -30 outside, yes, but when you get indoors somewhere it is very warm and comfortable, and you quickly defrost.  Here it took one half hour soak in the tub to finally get the chill out of my bones.

The conference is starting tomorrow, and I don't feel like going, but I have to.  I really really need a vacation.  MrH and I both need a vacation.  We haven't had a real vacation since one year ago.  I tried to take some pictures of the inside of our room, but I am not a very good photographer, and we put our stuff everywhere, so it does not look as glamorous as it did yesterday, however I took a couple of pictures, and will likely add more as the time goes on.  Note the nice fluffy bathrobe that the hotel provided.  Note also the very large amount of cosmetic products on the counter.  They are all MrH's (just kidding, he has the toothbrush and, um, that's it).  Also note the bottle of Estrace and the evil Suprefact grinning from the left hand side of the countertop.  Thursday I will burn it in the Fires Of Where it belongs if my ultrasound shows a good lining and I can stop taking it.  

Luxury life

We arrived at the hotel in Vancouver, and I must say it is enough to make my jaw drop! We are on the top floor of a seaside hotel, overlooking the harbour. This morning I even saw two fish eagles among the many seagulls circling right outside our window. The room has the best sheets I have ever slept on, and l'Occitane toiletries in verbena fragrance. There is an outdoor heated swimming pool, a jacuzzi and a very well equipped exercise room that even has my favourite piece of equipment, the assisted chinup machine. There is a lounge with free espresso and lovely tea, and all sorts of small bite size pieces of food, including lovely french pastries that MrH did not let me have this morning, but assured me that his pain au raisins was very good.

My weight is at an all time high, to such an extent that I don't fit into my tank tops that I wear underneath my sweaters. This has only happened once before, when I was 18 weeks pregnant. This is why I have put myself on a thousand calories a day diet, and will continue my vigurous exercise schedule. Yesterday I ran 5 miles again, but despite all my best efforts, on 1600 cal per day I am still gaining weight, so I will have to look at the french pasties from afar! I must say that being surrounded by such luxury makes it easier to be hungry, because all my other senses are so satisfied that it is hard for me to feel deprived.

I appologize if any typos sneak in, i am using the ipad to post and am not very good with the flat virtual keyboard. I will try to post some pictures if you guys want, just leave me comments if anyone want to see pics.

the princess is packing

I ran 5 km today and didn't even bat an eyelash.  To think that it only took one month to get into the greatest running shape of my life.  All that it took is iron willpower and a good friend to keep me talking while running the countless laps.  It honestly feels like we are going out for tea and chatting about our lives and the weather, thank you I., I had a fabulous time working out with you!

If I do get pregnant, this will be my last workout for a long while (unless I can sneak a couple of runs while I am in the big city).  Tomorrow I am leaving.  MrH and I will be attending a conference, after which I will be staying a while longer and getting this transfer of two frozen embryos done.  Tonight I am packing.  So far, for 10 days in Vancouver, I have packed the following (yes, I am a high maintenance princess, with a very expensive taste for cashmere, but life is short):
In order of importance

-nail polish in pink

-nail polish in red

-sexy underwear in black

-Gstring underwear in black/pink lace

-sexy underwear in pink and black

-respective matching bras

-three pairs of sheer nylons

-cashmere sweater in white

-cashmere sweater in red 

-leather skirt in brown

-short (mini) cashmere dress in grey/black

-leather boots in white

-leather boots in brown

-red leather boots ankle height.

-one pair of skinny jeans. 

-two workout pants and two workout t-shirts.

That is it.  Plus my coat.  Forgot my perfume (this time we're taking Boucheron Initial), and a whole lotta makeup.  And a suitcase full of medication. 

I always insist on being my sexiest self while doing IVF.  It distracts from the monumental weight gain and keeps me sane and floating.  Wish me luck!  I might be posting, I might not, it depends on how busy the whole conference thingy is going to be.  

preparing the mothership

I have just received a new perfume from my friend Ebay.  The fragrance is sooooo good that I am almost thinking it might replace my signature perfume for the next couple of years.  It is called Eau de Fleurs Lavande by Chloe.  It does not really smell like lavander, but rather like a whole bunch of spring and flowers and soap and sunshine.  The only drawback is that it only lasts about 2 hours on me, so I need to keep on reapplying it.  In winter here the fragrances evaporate very quickly, because the humidity level is very low, so everything just smells much stronger, but for a shorter period of time.

Nothing new to report, today I have increased the dose of Estrace and I have not killed anyone yet.  In the past, my experience has been that I get very antsy and angry whenever the estrogen dose goes up, but so far so good. The only thing I have noticed is an irresistible urge to go running.   We have an indoor running track that was just built, brand new, and I love it.  I had a 45 minute break today between the end of the office day and a meeting that I had to attend in the evening, so I decided that I absolutely had to run.  I went to the track, put my running shoes on, took off my cashmere sweater and ran 4 km dressed in my office pants, my  bra and my camisole (bra straps showing, yes).  No matter what, I did not look dressed for running, but for once I did not care, I really had to burn some estrogen fuel, and I did.  That is so far the extent of my madness.

13 days until the embryos land.  Time to prepare the mothership.  No more coffee.  No more nonvegan slips (had some beef jerky today).  Daily exercise.  8 oz of green juice per day (chard, collards, spinach). And hey, I might even start to break in the folic acid bottle that lies untouched on my bathroom sink.  Perhaps I can convince the little buggers that this is a comfortable body to hijack.

anticipating failure

I was opening a sample of the new Paris Hilton perfume and accidentally splashed some in my eye.  Uggghh, not only it stings, but now my eye and my entire face smell like this fairly cheap boring fragrance, which I wouldn't have recommended before, and will definitely not recommend after this little incident involving my eye.  Sorry if anyone actually likes it, I am sure that on a different body with a different chemistry it would probably smell differently, but on me it smells like I need another shower, and I just had one.

I have gained 2 lb more today.  I am at an all time high at this point, and am wearing my pregnancy clothes that I used to wear in the beginning of the second trimester, i.e. my fat clothes.  Not giving up though, I just did another hour on the elliptical machine tonight, and hopefully burned out the nice angel food cake with strawberry topping that someone has brought for me for lunch.  It was delicious and it was the only food available the whole day, so it had to do.  Lesson learned:  must pack lunch, for those days when I don't even have five minutes to rush over to the store and buy something.  For dinner I had grilled asparagus and a green salad.  Despite this rather frugal day (that's all I ate) I am willing to bet a fair sum of money on the fact that tomorrow morning I will wake up 1-2 lb heavier, as has been the case every day so far since I have started on SuperFAT.

If I were not so exhausted by overwork I would probably spend some time thinking about why this weight issue is really so important to me.  I mean, its not like I am turning into a pumpkin, even if I gain 10 lb.  I won't even cross over the BMI 25 mark to be defined as overweight.  It has no health implications whatsoever, and yes, it will mean that I will need a whole new wardrobe, but so would I if I lost 20 lb and that would not sadden me at all!  There are so many wounds left over from when I was young and chubby, and did not have any brain to defend myself against the concerned remarks from my family and friends.  (I was also unfortunately tall, and boys never wanted to dance with me, but I always attributed their reluctance to my being too fat).  I could also think of why it is so important for me to control things that are obviously out of my control (like the number on the scale) instead of simply accepting the outcome after having done my best, with some semblance of grace and peace.  It is exactly the same as the struggles with the IVF and the pregnancy:  I have done my best, I did not get pregnant, so many times, or I did and lost the pregnancy or the baby, but despite that I am still struggling to control the outcome (again) instead of simply going with the flow while giving it my best shot.

I am in a very foul mood these days, although looking from the outside it is hard to tell.  I work hard because I need to compensate for being away for the next 10 days and also because I don't want to think about what it will feel like to fail, again.  I know that chances of failure for this cycle are 60%, better than half, because it is a frozen cycle.  I also know that statistics mean nothing to me at this point, so I shouldn't bother even mentioning them.  But the reality is that I am very likely to fail again, and I know all too well how this goes:  negative pregnancy test, crying for a day in MrH's arms (who is probably wondering when this madness will end), then trying to pull myself together, going back to work and trying not to think about it, too depressed to do anything other than watch TV in the evenings, too exhausted and sad to see people, to exercise, or to get out of that state for at least two weeks.  On top of that, having to diet seriously in order to lose some of the weight put on, which means I will be cold and hungry and extra cranky for the following month, then hoping again as I am starting a new cycle in January, getting into a better mood, like I was in recently, exercising again, life falling back into place, and the cycle repeating itself with another IVF.  On and on, so far six times.  Not to mention the twelve failed intrauterine insemination cycles, which were very similar, only involving different drugs and different procedures.  I feel like I am stuck in a roller coaster that keeps going up and down, and I know that there is not escaping from the up and down motion unless I give up.  Except I am not ready to give up yet.  One day I will, but that day has not come yet.  For now, stuck in the roller coaster from Hell.