I had it in my mind that this was going to be easier. I thought this last treatment was doomed to fail. We would be able to coast through it, chalk it up to something else that doesn't work for us. Then it got all crazy with the follicles and the sex. I haven't been feeling very well and had a lot of abdominal pain yesterday. It continued to get worse into the evening and let up a little around bedtime. I finally figured out that I could probably feel either the follicles in my ovaries (because they are both large and numerous - for me anyway) or ovulation was occurring. I have never really felt either before and it was strange, but reassuring that my body did what it was supposed to. I had that pinching sensation, which I have heard indicates ovulation. The ovulation predictor kits actually worked this time too. I was able to determine the window of opportunity.
We decided to give it our all. I'm not upset at the doctor for deciding not to go ahead with the IUI. I think his decision was prudent and I am a fan of prudence. I don't think he ruined our chances and I think that the concept of higher order multiples is much more real to him than it is to me. All of this also comes right on the heels of a post by a wonderful triplet (+1) mom that I have read for almost two years. She makes me laugh and think, and recently she informally polled her readers (many have multiples) and asked how many embryos they put back in IVF. The answers floored me. Read this post and the comments. There are even a few in there regarding IUIs. Basically, it seems like these doctors did whatever their patients requested. Which is good and bad, for different reasons. Interesting, nonetheless. Which brings us to the infamous octomom. It probably wasn't too difficult to find a renegade RE that was willing to put more than five embryos back. Side note: please, please understand why the correct terminology for returning embryos to the womb is "transfer" or "put back," NOT "implant." For details about how that terminology affects how the world interprets IVF and reproductive treatments, please read this. I love how clearly she outlines the harmful nature of incorrect terminology.
That's mostly it. I am sitting around for the next two weeks praying that finally, sex worked. Also very nervous that it didn't work at all or that I might have a litter. I'm really not sure which scenario scares me more. All I want is a baby. I thought it would be simpler than this. I don't know if it counts as a prayer, but I sure have been sending up a lot of "please"es lately. So, please, whoever is listening, please let us be pregnant and have a baby. It's super easy according to biology: lots of eggs and lots of sperm and I just need one connection, one conception. Please. Please.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Just When You Think
The rug that you are standing on is a green and purple paisley print, it sure as hell does not even matter anymore because someone (or something) has come along and pulled out the rug from underneath you and replaced it with, well it does not really matter anymore because there is no rug. This is what IF is like for us.
We are at this weird thinking and decision-making point in this journey. What we do know, I think, is that this is my last cycle on the magic white pills. They have no safety and they worry me. I have taken them for NINE cycles now. In each cycle they fool the estrogen receptors into thinking something that forces the body to ovulate. There are discernible traces of this medication in your system after a year since the last time you take them. So what the hell did NINE cycles of these do to me?
We are having to decide what the next step is after a long and much needed break (months-years), so we have time on our side. We are talking to the RE again in about a month about our options. The second concern (the first is the sheer number of times I have been on that medication and the crazy variable responses - see below) is that we have effectively solved the problems that have been diagnosed: annovualtion is well solved by the medication, and as long as C has a less-stressful, non-ill, save up period, his sperm count is adequate. If the problems are solved, then why aren't we pregnant? What is the new and improved problem? And are we looking at IUIs with injectables or IVF without knowing what we are up against and just hoping that one of those procedures will solve something. Those will also both have to be saved up for, because we are not made of money. It would be nice to have a scarf made out of $1000 bills though. I could just pluck them off and pay for things.
I am looking forward to this next appointment for a new plan. I was sure that this last IUI (#4, for those keeping track) was doomed from the start, as in "these treatments just don't work for us." And then we are taking a break for a year or two (or until I miraculously find thousands of dollars in a basket with a baby on my front porch). It will be a different type of stressful, but good for us. And then. THIS happened. Actually nothing HAPPENED, so much as numbers might as well be monsters for as much as they terrify me. Just certain numbers.
Brief recap: we had to do two follicle scans for the last IUI and still just found ONE pitiful mature follicle on the second one and went ahead with the IUI. Negative.
Today: follicle scan and I'm already prepared to repeat in two days due to another poor response. Not so fast. She sees one, two, three, four, five (switch ovaries) six, seven, eight, nine follicles. Four are mature and five are possibilities. She gives me the ROM (Risk of Multiples) talk and I tell her that C and I have discussed this and are willing to take the risk. She is flustered and goes to consult with the doctor (while I stare at the screen with all the follicle measurements on it). Dr says no way we are doing the IUI and no trigger shot - he is not willing to risk multiples. She further explains to me that I am 25, with assumed high egg quality, and that any more than two babies might break my tiny body. She advises (strongly and three times) against intercourse without protection, because "You just don't want to take the risk." An appointment is made for a month from now with RE to further discuss options (which is what we were going to do anyway).
Objections: I understand the risk, but I don't think having A BABY or even two, is much of a risk. A gaggle of babies is a risk. I am not tiny, I am thin-ish (less so since all of this fertility nonsense), and have strong bones, and a solid frame (or so I think). I am 25 and I want to have a baby. Funny thing, sex is our decision and whatever we decide is an educated, consensual, mutual decision. Can't wait to lay this all out for C. Or I can't wait to lay C, I'm a little confused about this point.
Where did that rug I was standing on go? There was never a rug under my feet? What was I standing on?
We are at this weird thinking and decision-making point in this journey. What we do know, I think, is that this is my last cycle on the magic white pills. They have no safety and they worry me. I have taken them for NINE cycles now. In each cycle they fool the estrogen receptors into thinking something that forces the body to ovulate. There are discernible traces of this medication in your system after a year since the last time you take them. So what the hell did NINE cycles of these do to me?
We are having to decide what the next step is after a long and much needed break (months-years), so we have time on our side. We are talking to the RE again in about a month about our options. The second concern (the first is the sheer number of times I have been on that medication and the crazy variable responses - see below) is that we have effectively solved the problems that have been diagnosed: annovualtion is well solved by the medication, and as long as C has a less-stressful, non-ill, save up period, his sperm count is adequate. If the problems are solved, then why aren't we pregnant? What is the new and improved problem? And are we looking at IUIs with injectables or IVF without knowing what we are up against and just hoping that one of those procedures will solve something. Those will also both have to be saved up for, because we are not made of money. It would be nice to have a scarf made out of $1000 bills though. I could just pluck them off and pay for things.
I am looking forward to this next appointment for a new plan. I was sure that this last IUI (#4, for those keeping track) was doomed from the start, as in "these treatments just don't work for us." And then we are taking a break for a year or two (or until I miraculously find thousands of dollars in a basket with a baby on my front porch). It will be a different type of stressful, but good for us. And then. THIS happened. Actually nothing HAPPENED, so much as numbers might as well be monsters for as much as they terrify me. Just certain numbers.
Brief recap: we had to do two follicle scans for the last IUI and still just found ONE pitiful mature follicle on the second one and went ahead with the IUI. Negative.
Today: follicle scan and I'm already prepared to repeat in two days due to another poor response. Not so fast. She sees one, two, three, four, five (switch ovaries) six, seven, eight, nine follicles. Four are mature and five are possibilities. She gives me the ROM (Risk of Multiples) talk and I tell her that C and I have discussed this and are willing to take the risk. She is flustered and goes to consult with the doctor (while I stare at the screen with all the follicle measurements on it). Dr says no way we are doing the IUI and no trigger shot - he is not willing to risk multiples. She further explains to me that I am 25, with assumed high egg quality, and that any more than two babies might break my tiny body. She advises (strongly and three times) against intercourse without protection, because "You just don't want to take the risk." An appointment is made for a month from now with RE to further discuss options (which is what we were going to do anyway).
Objections: I understand the risk, but I don't think having A BABY or even two, is much of a risk. A gaggle of babies is a risk. I am not tiny, I am thin-ish (less so since all of this fertility nonsense), and have strong bones, and a solid frame (or so I think). I am 25 and I want to have a baby. Funny thing, sex is our decision and whatever we decide is an educated, consensual, mutual decision. Can't wait to lay this all out for C. Or I can't wait to lay C, I'm a little confused about this point.
Where did that rug I was standing on go? There was never a rug under my feet? What was I standing on?
Friday, February 13, 2009
Rethink That Please
In an argument about money, the conversation went like this:
A: Your hobby is your truck. What is my hobby? (I was pointing out the amount of money that he spends on the project truck.)
C: Your fertility treatments. (A look comes over his face as if he should have eaten those words before they escaped and yes, they should have been eaten.)
A: Really? Is that your answer?
Of course, a money/sex yours/mine/ours type of discussion followed. Hurt feelings were soothed (okay, so maybe I said something to C about some friend of his on Facebook whose comments that I did not appreciate). On to IUI#4 and more medication.
A: Your hobby is your truck. What is my hobby? (I was pointing out the amount of money that he spends on the project truck.)
C: Your fertility treatments. (A look comes over his face as if he should have eaten those words before they escaped and yes, they should have been eaten.)
A: Really? Is that your answer?
Of course, a money/sex yours/mine/ours type of discussion followed. Hurt feelings were soothed (okay, so maybe I said something to C about some friend of his on Facebook whose comments that I did not appreciate). On to IUI#4 and more medication.
Remembering While Trying Not to Remember
When all you can think is "dead babies can't talk," you shouldn't write a blog post.
When you can't stop crying, you shouldn't write a blog post.
When you miscarried two years ago and you are nowhere closer to having a baby, you suffer a crisis of the heart.
When you figure out how to stop feeling, you think you will be okay.
I miss Baby B that I lost two years ago on Wednesday. I am so sorry that I miscarried. I hated hurting so many beings: a little life expelled, my husband, our parents, and our friends.
And then everything changed and this journey really began.
When you can't stop crying, you shouldn't write a blog post.
When you miscarried two years ago and you are nowhere closer to having a baby, you suffer a crisis of the heart.
When you figure out how to stop feeling, you think you will be okay.
I miss Baby B that I lost two years ago on Wednesday. I am so sorry that I miscarried. I hated hurting so many beings: a little life expelled, my husband, our parents, and our friends.
And then everything changed and this journey really began.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Cocoon
I have had a couple of things to write about rolling around in my head, but none seem quite right. Instead, I wanted to send out some love to those that have been pushing love towards me. I know that I get angry, short, and exasperated along this journey, but the reason that I am sane is because when I just don't have the capacity to carry hope for myself, ourselves, or our future children, there is always someone there to pick up the basket of hope and carry it for a little way.
To my parents and C's parents, who are all heavily invested in this endeavor mentally, emotionally, and financially, thank you. Thank you for caring enough to ask questions and for patiently listening to our answers and then asking more questions. Thank you for your support and encouragement; and your faith in us that we are doing what we have to to build our family (your family too). Thank you for hoping for us when it seems what we are looking at is more hopeless.
AM & R, thank you for your continuous prayers, hope, support, encouragement, and listening ears. We aren't always sure that we deserve friends like you, but we are so grateful that both of you are in our lives and that we can be friends together and apart.
C, I know that you are out there, hoping this for us and praying this for us. Right now you are revelling in mommy-bliss and I know that you want that for me too. Thank you. You also decided to introduce me to someone who knows how this journey feels, so thank you for your thoughtfulness, and thank you for H.
H, knowing someone, if only through blogs and emails, that really gets what we are going through is priceless. I wish that no one else ever had to trek this journey, but I couldn't ask for a better person to correspond with about all the ups and downs. Your support and encouragement have meant so much to me and have restored a little of the hope that I was losing.
To the multitude of you who are praying that we might have a baby, sending positive thoughts our way, and casting the good vibes at us, thank you. Now, more than ever, I feel cocooned with the support and love. It is such a comforting feeling to know that others want this for us as much as we want this for ourselves and our families. Thank you for putting up with angry and sarcastic Anne, and the Anne that claims she just doesn't care anymore. I do care and I want this to work so very badly.
Right now, I am feeling a little pathetic. The week is going by too fast, for as long as there are a few more days before I can reasonably test this cycle, I can hope. Once I see a white white white pregnancy test, I know that it is all over, and we will have to try again. If the testing day never comes, I don't have to give up hope, but then again, it can't work out that way either. I will, of course, test early and most likely be disappointed early, but if I tested on the day I was supposed to, it would fall on the day that I miscarried two years ago. I know in my heart that this is just a date. It has been so long getting here and we could really use some good news on that particular date. You know?
P.S. Were any of you aware that you have to spend at least $6000 in one year on infertility treatments and procedures for it to be tax deductible? And the thought of IVF still scares me a lot.
To my parents and C's parents, who are all heavily invested in this endeavor mentally, emotionally, and financially, thank you. Thank you for caring enough to ask questions and for patiently listening to our answers and then asking more questions. Thank you for your support and encouragement; and your faith in us that we are doing what we have to to build our family (your family too). Thank you for hoping for us when it seems what we are looking at is more hopeless.
AM & R, thank you for your continuous prayers, hope, support, encouragement, and listening ears. We aren't always sure that we deserve friends like you, but we are so grateful that both of you are in our lives and that we can be friends together and apart.
C, I know that you are out there, hoping this for us and praying this for us. Right now you are revelling in mommy-bliss and I know that you want that for me too. Thank you. You also decided to introduce me to someone who knows how this journey feels, so thank you for your thoughtfulness, and thank you for H.
H, knowing someone, if only through blogs and emails, that really gets what we are going through is priceless. I wish that no one else ever had to trek this journey, but I couldn't ask for a better person to correspond with about all the ups and downs. Your support and encouragement have meant so much to me and have restored a little of the hope that I was losing.
To the multitude of you who are praying that we might have a baby, sending positive thoughts our way, and casting the good vibes at us, thank you. Now, more than ever, I feel cocooned with the support and love. It is such a comforting feeling to know that others want this for us as much as we want this for ourselves and our families. Thank you for putting up with angry and sarcastic Anne, and the Anne that claims she just doesn't care anymore. I do care and I want this to work so very badly.
Right now, I am feeling a little pathetic. The week is going by too fast, for as long as there are a few more days before I can reasonably test this cycle, I can hope. Once I see a white white white pregnancy test, I know that it is all over, and we will have to try again. If the testing day never comes, I don't have to give up hope, but then again, it can't work out that way either. I will, of course, test early and most likely be disappointed early, but if I tested on the day I was supposed to, it would fall on the day that I miscarried two years ago. I know in my heart that this is just a date. It has been so long getting here and we could really use some good news on that particular date. You know?
P.S. Were any of you aware that you have to spend at least $6000 in one year on infertility treatments and procedures for it to be tax deductible? And the thought of IVF still scares me a lot.
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