I have come down with a cold that I can't take anything for. I'm a bit pleased, actually - the smoother the road, the harder it is for me to stop worrying about getting hit by an unexpected truck, which doesn't make any sense as any road user knows, but there it is. I feel calmer with this low-level ailment. Maybe it's just lack of sleep and too many honey lemon lollies.

It's harder than I expected to believe. All the way up until about a nanosecond after the first beta, I honestly thought if we could just get a normal positive I would feel like it was going to be ok. Amazingly, I haven't learned anything from this mistake, and continue to expect that I will relax immediately after the next consult. For freak's sake, I'm still using IVF/ICSI#2 as a blog category. It's almost as if I want trouble. Which I don't. No no no no no.

So I've decided to start a new label: "clinical pregnancy". It's accurate, not like I've called it "the gestation of our first live, healthy, take-home baby!" or something like that, so surely I'm pretty safe, which is just as well, because we all know the Hubris Gremlin luuurrves to read the blogs. Anyway. Welcome to the official changeover of categories. Let's hope this one ends up growing and getting big, and looking hot in maternity clothes.

--

I also wanted to point out a great new resource - The Infertile Informer is your online newspaper for all things infertility. Thanks Jules, and I can't believe how many stories are up there already! Time to go read it over a nice, hot cup of honey lemon tea.

I did this online survey for Amnesty International. But you don't care - you're here about the scan, right? Of course right.

We lost the smaller twin. The sac is still visible, but it hasn't really grown in the last ten days. SOB says it will probably collapse and disappear, or else cause a violent miscarriage which ends the entire pregnancy, although he did try to say that last bit in a casual and positive voice. The main thing, apparently, is to stay on all the medication, except not the clexane if I start bleeding in which case it might just be an idea to give him a bit of a tinkle and maybe even pop in, you know, as long as I'm in the neighbourhood and have some spare time.

Other than that, everything looks fine! The now-depressingly-named Twin B is growing steadily, measuring just as, but no further behind than ever before, heartbeat intact, etc etc etc. In fact, goshdarnit, I might as well post this ultrasound pic for you to view at your discretion.

We knew this was on the cards. And the fact is, a single, healthy baby was the most we were ever hoping for out of this cycle. We're still in with a good chance of that, although I'll admit my confidence has been shaken, and reduced pregnancy risks (casual remarks about imminent miscarriage notwithstanding) and a more manageable infanthood are good things, better things, and that's what a singleton is. I'll be very grateful if we can have just one.

But let's save it for another day. We just lost a baby, you see.

I know I've mentioned a few times that my symptoms are pretty weak - sometimes I have to stick my toothbrush a long way down my throat to bring on any morning sickness - but I've got one more to add to the list this week: tiredness.

I was quite concerned about my lack of tiredness, because it seems such a very common pregnancy symptom, but a revelation struck me as I awoke from my afternoon nap the other day and I excitedly started to share it with Mr Bea. "I think I've worked out why I'm not feeling tired!" I announced.

"Is it because you've been sleeping so much?" he replied.

"You knew," I said, crestfallen. "Why didn't you tell me?" He had the hide to answer by shaking his head in disbelief.

So yes, I have not been tired, but I have been sleeping more - a full night's sleep and an afternoon nap, which is great on the symptoms front and I love having the luxury - but the downside is it's not exactly getting my coursework done. And I have 80% of my assessment due in October. As well as a film festival. All of which is a very long-winded way of getting around to my point, which is that I've decided to delay the third IIFF by a week, until the 3rd of November which is a little late for Halloween, but not too much so never mind.

So! The third season of IIFF and the last for 2007 will still be Halloween, but the new date is the 3rd of November. Can't wait to see your entries, and I will be running the prizes again - audience choice, lucky dip, and the grand jury prize. So go! Go!

I was sitting around my mother's kitchen table just after this latest transfer* discussing the ins and outs** of what had gone on when my mother casually remarked, "Well, multiples run in your family, you know. On both sides."

I turned my hesitant gape into a light-hearted, "Do they?"

"Yes," she said, ignoring my increasingly anxious look. "Two of your great-grandmothers had triplets. Haven't I told you that story?"

"If you have, it's obviously slipped my mind temporarily over the last couple of days," I replied drily, and so she began.

Great Granddaddy was working out in the paddock on the farm when Great Grandma went into labour. The midwife was called for, and after some hours a young child was dispatched with the message: "It's a boy!"

"Good-oh," said Great Granddad, continuing his work.

Some hours later, the messenger-child returned. "Another boy!"

"Well goodness me," said Great Granddad calmly, without pausing from the job at hand. The third time the child returned with the news that another son had been born, Great Granddad paused briefly to reflect, and then put down his tools. "I think," he said slowly, "I'd better come see what's going on in there."

At this point, my mother's hearty chuckle mingled with my rather more nervous titter, but she soon sighed and a wistful look overtook her face. "Great Grandma P's triplets were girls," she continued, "but they all died at birth."

"Great, Mum," I said, rising decisively from the table. "I've really enjoyed this talk."

The truth is, I stopped secretly wanting twins when I was faced with the reality of actually having to choose that risk. Although that's not putting it quite accurately - I still secretly want twins; what I don't want is dead or permanently disabled twins, along with the knowledge that all would have been ok if I'd just been a little more patient and had them one at a time. At present, I remain unconvinced that either, let alone both these babies are going to make it to the point where I need to start worrying, which leaves me in this kind of blissful, yet ignorant stage of emotional limbo, kind of like how you felt when you only just started trying, and it hadn't worked yet, but you thought it probably would sooner or later. But even if they do both continue to develop and we end up facing the possibility of two at once, thanks to my Mum, I'll always know it could look scarier.


--
I went back to R.D.A this week. I may be taking on more responsibilities. But that's nothing! Karen has this whole teaching project going for barely literate rural women. And Blondie is doing what she can to make this case into a fair trial.


---
*For an individual person, sitting around a table is just as difficult as it sounds.

**Ew.

I just want to say a few things first. The initial beta was normal, but not exactly inspiring. The doubling time was slow. There was spotting. There was a general paucity of reassuring pregnancy symptoms. The embryos were measuring behind at the last scan, there was only one heartbeat, and it was ok but not exactly pounding. I had some very logical reasons to be cautious about today's scan. I want to make this clear upfront because...

...we have two heartbeats now. Yes. Hereafter I shall be known not as Bea, but as Little Miss Pantsonfire.

Now. Before we all start getting ahead of ourselves like SOB, who confidently just told me, "You're having twins!" and thereby nearly provoked me into an attack wherein I grabbed him by the collar and, glaring into his face from mere inches away, screamed, "Might be! Possibly! There's a chance, providing all continues to go well! Damnit man, I am only just past seven weeks, and the betas, and the spotting, and the fact that whilst one twin seems to be catching up to where it should be in dates, the other twin is looking significantly smaller and has, if anything, fallen slightly further behind than it was last week, except for the whole heartbeating thing, of course, good grief, man, where do you get this boundless optimism!" - let me add a few cautionary notes, viz., well, see above. However, I have to admit, I have started to entertain the idea that we might end up with an actual, live baby out of this. That's right - I am entertaining Ideas now.

SOB finished the consult by telling me I didn't need to come back for a good couple of weeks, but shortened it to ten days when he observed the panicky look on my face, so I have another scan next Thursday.

Thankyou so much for continuing to check in and keep tabs on me. I hope it's not too hard.

Bleeding gums! Bright, bold colours indeed.

I have come to this conclusion: IVF is an emotionally traumatic experience. I know, but wait, I have more. No matter what the outcome of a cycle, it is bound to be followed by a sort of mini-nervous-breakdown lasting a few days to a week. If the pregnancy test is negative, this breakdown will happen immediately. If the pregnancy test is positive, the breakdown will be delayed several days. Either way, it will happen.

I don't believe things are fine in there. They may be, for all I know, but I don't believe it. Nevertheless, I am feeling fairly calm about stuff, and am content to wait til the next scan on Monday. I have finished with my inevitable post-cycle breakdown, you see.

I still wish I had pregnancy signs. There's something very self-indulgent about this, but I do want that fleeting bit of morning sickness back. I'm over the boob veininess - it's so 14dpo. I want something more up to date, more now; something that says, "Going on seven weeks," in bright, bold colours. And any time the spotting wants to stop, that would be just fine, too.

But I will wait, and I will do my good deed (carbon credits - haven't bought any for either of our flights yet) and I will continue ticking off the injections one by one (y'all clicked over to IVF Shootemup and perused the entire site minutely until you found my clexane video buried deep down in there somewhere, right?) until the next scan comes around - whatever news that brings. I have exited the breakdown phase and entered the Hum Drum. Long may it last.

Pitch in if you can help!

I wanted to collect every video of someone injecting/preparing an IVF drug onto the one site, in case anyone ever found it helpful. I've managed to contact most of the video-makers, but if you see yours there and want it taken down let me know. I'll be looking around for more, and if you know of one I haven't included, point it out! There's also a wish list to be taken care of, and added to.

Or, if you'd rather just add the little icon to your sidebar and leave it at that, well, I've got something for you, too:

1. Two gestational sacs
   
2. With one heartbeat
   
3. Measuring five days behind apiece
   
4. And, according to Thursday's "fine" and "good" beta level, a doubling time now of 72 hours
   
5. Giving an hCG level which I would consider worryingly low for a singleton, let alone twins

Only one more injection to go before scan day. I like to measure the time in terms of injections, because an injection only takes a couple of minutes whereas a day takes a whole twenty-four freaking hours. I can't wait to jab myself with that blunt, stingy needle. It's not that I'm excited about seeing a heartbeat - I don't honestly believe that will happen - but it sure is a relief to think this wait will soon be over.

Say there's this couple. They have always dreamed of a family with two children, but unfortunately they're infertile. If the world is overpopulated already, why are they trying to produce more babies through IVF? Shouldn't they "just" adopt ones which are already here?

Meanwhile, down the road, is a young, single, accidentally-pregnant woman who doesn't want to raise the child. Now, if the world is overpopulated she should have an abortion, but the same people who advocate adoption for the first couple are rarely so adamant about that. Instead, they think the young woman should have the baby and give it to the infertile couple, and then everyone will be happy (they assume, ignoring the complex emotional issues at play which are, after all, just tough luck for those involved) and, most importantly, the environment will breathe a sigh of relief. Another young, single woman provides the infertile couple's second child in the same way, and all is right with the world. Or is it?

Here's the thing: when these two young, single women grow older, find husbands and settle down, do they say to themselves, "Now, I've always wanted two children, and I've already had one, so I guess there's only one to go!" Of course not. They each have the two children they've always wanted.

So the world still ends up with six children (and we've narrowed our genetic diversity into the bargain). Where's the environmental gain? And without one, what's your excuse for not giving people what they want instead of what you think they should have?

First, a random thing: last night, Thalia came to me in a dream and told me I should enjoy more coffee. I obviously blog too much.

Secondly: beta the fourth is still pending. I decided to have it marked "non-urgent" this time - should be back by tomorrow. Curiously, having my blood drawn was just as soothing as it usually is, despite the lack of results. The act of having a sample taken, even though I hate blood samples so much I have only recently learnt to sit through them without fainting on the floor, seems to lower my stress levels independently of any gain in either a) reassurance from knowing things are going well, or b) ability to take action if they aren't. Did I mention Thalia appeared to me in a dream to bring me a message about coffee? It's possible I may be slightly unhinged.

--

I remember being... younger, I don't know, probably about twelve or thirteen, and seeing a brochure for an adults-only resort holiday. "That's terrible!" I protested to my mother. "What sort of people dislike kids so much they'd create an adults-only resort? I mean, that excludes the adults who have kids to look after as well!"

In her wisdom, my mother replied, "Your father and I love you dearly, but not everyone wants to see children and families around all the time. Good people, too."

I don't think I really understood until the infertility.

Just before I left for our latest cycle, I was invited to join a google group for young, childless expats living in Singapore. "We don't have an age limit," the recruiting member assured us, looking around the table at a group of maybe four or five. "To us, age is a state of mind. And it's not that we hate kids, or parents - in fact some of our members have had babies since they joined and of course we still let them come along - but we want to be able to go out and have fun without any talk of babysitting or nappies."

"Sounds nice," said the mother in the conversation, assuming that long-suffering face parents are so fond of displaying. On this occasion, however, it was ignored.

"It just seemed there were a lot of mothers' groups around, but nothing similar for non-mothers," Recruiting Member concluded.

So I said I was game, and I've even dropped in to a couple of events. It's nice. A safe place for an infertile. And, though my thirteen-year-old self may have found this surprising, the women aren't awful people at all.

Just this week, one of them sent out a request to the group for sponsorship. She's running to raise money for a hospice. It's a perfect good deed for us both.

---
News just in (beta the fourth): apparently it's "good" and also "fine". The nurse offered to read me the number, and for some reason, today, I just didn't want it. Heartbeat scan Monday.

Mr Bea just emailed me back about the beta asking what I've done with his wife.

It occurred to me, as I was waiting for the results of my beta this morning, that perhaps there's a purpose to all this loss. Some of those low positive betas were so small and so fleeting a normal woman wouldn't have noticed the conception at all, and even with Jester there are some who wouldn't have cared, and many who wouldn't have cared nearly so much as we did. So perhaps these brief little lives were given to us, as opposed to anyone else, to care for and love because Someone knew we would.

Then I threw up a little in my mouth from the overwhelming perkturdiness. As I tried to wash away the acid taste, I was called in for my results: fifty-three hours. I could want for better, but I'll take what I'm given and hope it's enough. Since I'm enjoying the illusion of control these constant blood draws are giving me, I'm going back on Thursday for beta the fourth.

Thanks for all your stories of hope, and encouragement to hang in there. And, er, if you've got any more where that came from, yes please.

Hands up who honestly thought I was going to make it to the 10th September heartbeat scan. Anyone? Yes - you? You too? Good grief, you should know me better by now.

I started to get anxious last night, and then I remembered my motto, which is this: don't spend time worrying when you can spend money getting doctors to worry for you. Actually, as mottos go, that isn't very catchy. How about: don't worry, see your doctor in a hurry! Hmm... Ok I've got it: don't fret it - check it! Yeah. That'll do.

In any case, this morning, when the clinic opened, it was to the sound of me ringing to ask for an urgent followup beta NOW if not earlier, and after some toing and froing and mucking around (When was my last blood test? It doesn't freaking matter! No, don't bother going to ask the doctor...), I got my blood drawn and I got my results.

My doubling time is about 55 hours. I know 2-3 days is considered normal by many sources, but I've never actually seen anyone take home a baby from a doubling time like that. I think it'll be over within a few weeks.

**Update**
Thanks to the magic of the message boards, I now know one person who took home a baby with an initial doubling time of 55 hours. Even though I can name several gazillion people for whom things did not go nearly so well, I find myself cheered. Apparently SOB isn't just shitting me when he says there's hope, although I still think he's exaggerating wildly. In any case, as many of you have pointed out, there's little to be done about it either way. I think I'll be on 2-3 day checks for the next little while, though. The knowing has helped.

I ended up with a substantial amount of change for unicef on the plane. And over $120 in notes, most of which I kept for myself. Any Oz-bound Singaporeans willing to give a good exchange rate, let me know. Guess I wasn't feeling that confident about it being a one-way trip.

I'm still not. I could whine about my lack of symptoms or the ongoing, if very subtle, spotting, but I've got an essay due and you know how the speech goes anyway. Sometimes I think I should just get a follow-up beta, but I actually only want one if it's going to be good, and I really don't want to see anything equivocal, and, well, two pieces of good news in one week seems like pushing my luck. I've been terrified into submission and I'm too scared to ask for a bigger bowl of reassurance in case I am beaten or cast out into the street by a whole chorus-line of singing, dancing, orphanage masters, metaphorically speaking, of course. No, I'll wait - at least a little longer. Nothing is as horrifying as song.

Which I want to distinguish from the excellent cheers you guys did me last weekend. They rocked. Totally different thing. Also, I did get some wonderful magnets from Rachel to lift my spirits during this next wait. And if anyone wants to discuss Potter - I've finished now. Did I miss my chance? Where have you guys been going to talk about it? Oh good grief yes - and apparently I'm also a Rockin' Girl Blogger, although I may have to come back later to do the graphic. Thanks Samantha, Serenity and Sunny J for the nominations. And... I'll have to come back and do my own nominations later. Damnit. Essay. University.

I may have confused you with my last post. The beta results were still 24 hours away when I wrote it but, well, let me explain. I peed on a stick, on Friday night, at 14dpo or 11dp3dt. And it was positive, but faint. And I started spotting. I didn't tell you any of this - I guess I was trying to ignore it. My pregnancy signs subsided somewhat on Sunday, I felt bleak, hence the sad knock-knock joke post. My beta was this morning.

It is positive. It is normal.

I have no plans to recheck it any time soon. The testing causes me more anxiety than the waiting. Unless that changes - in which case I am to zoom down to the clinic and order another hCG level STAT - I will be waiting a fortnight for the scan. If you can stand it, please stay with me. I had spotting. I am feeling uncertain. But I am also feeling very, very thankful to have been given this chance again.

I'm a little worried about the lack of entertainment value in yet another low positive beta. I mean, sure, it can be exciting the first few times, but the fifth? I know I'd stop reading. So I've been wondering how I can spice things up a bit, maybe with humour.

Knock knock?

Who's there?

Dying embryo.

Dying embryo who?

ART replaces sex in many different facets of the life of an infertile person. Yesterday, in the toilet of a boeing 747-400, I joined the Mile High Club. Me, and a tube of crinone. Anyone with a passing rememberance of high school science and/or previous air travel will be able to work out where this is going in advance.

You see, at altitude, air pressure decreases and things expand. If the crinone user, like the aircraft, is on autopilot as they carefully tap the contents of the tube down to the business end of the applicator, breaking the seal will result in twelve dollars' worth of progesterone exploding all over the cubicle.

Pregnancy brain? Time will tell.

I've always been in the anti-peestick camp. "They don't tell you anything!" I've cried. "If it's negative, you wonder if it's a real negative, and if it's positive, you wonder if it's a real positive! What's the point?" Now my thoughts are this: peesticks tell you very little. But blood tests tell you only a very little more. And then scans, and so on, through the full gamut of prenatal tests, and post-natal tests, and the best you can hope for in the end is to die before the story really ends. So fuck it, right? Pee, don't pee, just take it in perspective.

I'm not yet ready to pee. For now, I'd rather live in ignorance than see a negative. But the time is coming, and soon, when I'd just rather know. Not how it ends - that's too much to ask for - but that I got one/two lines on a peestick, or anything. I'll tell you how it unfolds. (Beta is Monday.)

--

I've got two good deeds for you this week - mine and Vee's. They're kind of the same deed. You see, I mailed off the IIFF prizes last Friday (and don't forget! next festival October 27th, Halloween!) but Vee asked me not to send theirs. Due to strict new diets, Max and Vee are unable to appreciate the Love, and have asked me to do so on their behalves, which I am - with a heavy heart and a tantalised set of taste buds. Naturally I offered a substitute prize, and Vee said she'd feel rewarded if I donated something to either cancer or diabetes.

Point of note. If you run a charity website PLEASE SET UP ONLINE DONATIONS! That aside.

With daffodil day approaching, I was saved. I bought a wrist band whilst waiting for them to process my IVF claim today, and I dropped a little into the online tin when I got home. A bit for Vee and Max, and a little for me.

I caught the tummy bug that's been going around! It was like a little taste of pregnancy. So grateful for the practice run. You'll be pleased to know I am eating again now, and also posting on message boards about disappearing breast tenderness, which I am assured is mainly a sign of not groping myself hard enough. I have taken their point, and called off boob-watch. Sort of. One last... no, I'm going to stop.

On the other hand, I am now more than halfway through my 2ww meds, which must mean I'm more than halfway through my 2ww. If only I could speed the wait by stuffing the other twelve crinone up my neveryoumind all at once. Come to think of it - I'm not sure I've conclusively proven that wouldn't work. Has anyone tried it?

**Update**
And coughing! Now I have a cough.