Many Months Later: An Update from our Single Child World

Well, it's been nearly four months. I have been meaning to post an update here for a long time, but first I felt too miserable to recount it all, and then I got very busy at work for the last two months.

But. Here I am. And in a very different place than last time I wrote.

Right after July 4th, I went back for another lining check, and my cycle was canceled. Ended. Done. The weird thing is, I never actually spoke my doctor in Atlanta. But in previous phone conversations and by email, he confirmed that there is something going on in my uterus (more endo, or scarring from my c-section) that is preventing a lining from growing, and the next steps are to consider a surrogate, or get the hysteroscopy and see if it's something that can be addressed or not. I still feel I don't 100% understand all this. I also feel there were inconsistencies in my lining readings, and miscommunication between the local clinic and the doctor in Atlanta.

In any case, my husband had already made it known that he's done. Absolutely done. Sadly, he didn't even call me or return my desperate calls or texts that morning of the final appointment. Not for about an hour and a half. That's a horribly long time for me to not have had that support. He was out of town, visiting his parents, with our toddler, and I was alone.

Me? I don't know. I have not been doing too well over the past three months. I was bad, then got some therapy and went back on the birth control pill (because I have endometriosis, and also I don't want the "what ifs" nagging at me) and then seemed to be doing better. But then a few things happened: I stopped individual therapy because my husband and I were fighting like crazy so we started couples therapy, and I simply didn't have time for both. I believe we hit such a rough patch because of his lack of empathy and support. To be fair, he's never been as emotional as I am. When I was struggling for 2.5 years to get pregnant with my son, I leaned heavily on my support group friends. This time, I don't have that support. I know they are out there, but I don't seem to know anyone in real life who is my boat- wants a second, but can't. Also, getting back to my husband, he says he's thought for years that a second child might not work, because we had so much trouble getting to #1. I was.. more optimistic. And he was more realistic, as it turns out. So I don't think he faced the crushing surprise and disappointment that I felt. He had always said he wanted a second if it was just the case of a few transfers, but my cycles had turned out to be immensely stressful, expensive, and chaotic.

So, his lack of empathy and wanting me to get over it faster than I could have been so hard. My lack of support from people in a similar place is a big contrast from previous infertility treatment cycles. Then, my best mom friend got pregnant really, really easily, and was incredibly insensitive in complaining and talking about it ad nauseam. We haven't spoken in over a month, haven't hung out since August, and I've been taking it really hard. Although we had differences- she seems to view being pregnant as some big accomplishment, like it's her major contribution to society- we were also good friends, our kids got along, and we hung out 1-3 times a week. So I am very lonely on top of everything else.

Writing all this out is actually making me feel kind of ill, so I'm going to wrap it up. I've been spiraling downwards for awhile, but now I am making some positive changes. Just last night I started a low dose of anti-depressants/anti-anxiety medication (the big Z), and today I feel sick, drunk, and unhappy. But I have heard that if I stick with it, it will be worth it. I've been trying to keep exercising 1-2 times a week, I've been reaching out to other friends who are empathetic and kind people, and I've ended our couples therapy because I felt it was doing more harm than good. Right now, if our relationship is going to work, first I need to pull myself out of this unhappiness.

I still wish it had ended differently. I wanted, I dreamed of another child. But from a practical viewpoint, there are huge benefits to having one. We're more financially secure than we've ever been, now that we're not doing endless treatment cycles and worrying about another daycare payment. We've decided to take two nice vacations a year, starting with Alaska this June and maybe Costa Rica or Mexico this January or February. We can do these things, logistically and financially, with one child. We both get plenty of precious reading and solitary time, since we can trade off with childcare on weekends and give each other breaks. Our son is now at the age where he is not so needy, he can play with the neighbors or by himself, but he's also super fun to do interesting things with. We have real conversations and adventures, and my attention doesn't have to be divided or diverted by a baby.

Probably no one is even reading this anymore, and sorry to not have a happy ending, but I hope and pray that someday I will feel like this had a happy conclusion- at least, that I made the right choice in stopping the endless sinkhole of fertility treatment, and that I can have a happy, satisfying life with my One and Only child, who has taught me a kind of love that I am amazed by every single day. Here's to a healthier outlook, this medication helps me quit obsessing over what could have been, and my marriage recovers this rocky stage.

More later, perhaps.

The Dark Side of Nesting

Up till about 36 weeks, I would say I was doing really well. Since I've only gained about 23 pounds, I haven't been lugging around too much weight, and for my whole pregnancy, I've had minimal symptoms. Most of the time this has been great, although I have mentioned on this blog that it's been a little hard to hear from other people how I don't look very pregnant. At many times, this has really hurt. It's like I wasn't good at getting pregnant, and when people tell me how small I am, sometimes it feels like they are saying that I'm not good at being pregnant either. I know this doesn't sound totally rational, but it's the way people say it.. it's like everyone wants this nice big round pregnant lady, and I'm just not that. So I always get this sense of disappointment from people.

Anyway, overall I think I was doing well. When people would ask how I was feeling, I'd always say, "Great!" And I was. Though my energy level has flagged a bit in the third trimester, overall I had been sleeping well, feeling pretty rested, and not bothered by many physical symptoms at all. As long as I didn't lie down after eating, I avoided heartburn and indigestion, and my teeth were sensitive in December but have improved about 90% since then.

And then... it hit. Almost exactly at 36.5 weeks, this past weekend, everything changed. On Friday I was EXHAUSTED after work. Like, almost crying by the end of the workday. I didn't even do much at work- I basically have a desk job. But I felt dizzy and sick by 5 pm. I spent the evening trying not to move off the couch. And on Saturday, we went to a breastfeeding class, then lunch, then some shopping, and came home. B went out with friends around 3:30. I knew he'd be with them all night. Normally, I'd have made plans with a friend. But I didn't want to do anything but sit on the couch. I am just so tired, all the time. But then I started freaking out, thinking about all the things I still have to do at work... several major projects are unfinished, and I won't bore you with details, but there's lots of stuff I really don't want to leave unfinished. Also, I went to do some laundry and realized that I have a ton of baby clothes, but they're all give-aways from one friend, one neighbor of my mom's, and my sister-in-law... and they all must have had summer babies because ALL of the clothes are short-sleeved, legless onesies. And it's COLD here, and probably will stay that way for most of March! So then I started to freak out about being the horrible mom who takes her baby home from the hospital, in a snowstorm, in a summer outfit. And THEN I started to freak out about everything else: how I am going to eat or cook with a newborn, how I haven't sorted through the cradle full of books, how we don't have a car seat yet, etc. etc. etc. It was not rational. It was crazy worrying. I couldn't even read my book because my head was literally buzzing and my heart was racing. And I was exhausted and tried to go to bed at 11:30 pm, but I didn't get to sleep till 1 am because I could not calm down.

Sunday was the same- though I did go out and buy some stuff, and we have a car seat arriving tomorrow in the mail, I also meant to get the oil changed in the car, groceries purchased, etc., I just had to come home and sleep for two hours. And then again I could not get to sleep till 1 am, and I tossed and turned all night, at one point waking up drenched in sweat, and even the bed was soaked in my sweat. It was awful. I showed up at work yesterday an absolute mess, and was too tired to do any work at all, and had a couple of crying fits with my door closed.

This is what I am now referring to as "the dark side of nesting." I have read about nesting- this website defines it as "a pre-labor ritual that helps get your home ready for the baby, and helps you to pass the time"- and in birthing class, they warned us that it can be irrational and excessive and is not always healthy, but I did not expect it to be something that would hit me, or hit me this early, at 36.5 weeks. But it has- along with major anxiety about everything, and an almost chain loop in my head that he could arrive in as little as one week from now (I'm 37 weeks tomorrow, and 38 weeks onward is fair game).  I could still have 5 weeks, or I could only have 1!

Anyway, it's amazing what one good night of sleep will do. Last night, instead of peeing five times like Sunday night, I managed to only pee twice in the middle of the night. I slept a solid eight hours too. And today, I feel much calmer and normal. I still have anxiety and to-do lists, but it feels.... manageable. I don't feel like a crazy person. I haven't sweated through my clothes several times, the way I did yesterday. I don't feel a slave to my hormones the way I have for the last few days.

I know that today could just be a temporary respite. I have to keep plugging away at my to-dos, and I need to let B help me with the things he can. And I have to remind myself this is NORMAL, and some of it is irrational, and I need to slow down and remember that essentially, I am prepared. When he wants to come, he will come, and it will be okay.

Throughout it all, the fears and the anxiety, sometimes the sun peeks through and I remember: I will hopefully be holding a baby in just a matter of weeks. And then the incessant peeing and the washing of clothes and worrying about work undone in the office will just have to fade away. In March, my focus will be on the baby. It won't be easier, but I hope it will be more joyful. Because quite frankly, the dark side of nesting is pretty sucky. And I know it's not over yet. Hello, hormones. Welcome to taking over my life.

Second Heartbeat

Today was the second time we got to hear the heartbeat, at 8 weeks and 5 days. It was steady, thumping in there at 185 bpm. The nurse practitioner says I am measuring just fine, and the baby is happy and healthy. I cried. Then we left and I cried some more.

It's really, really sinking in. Most of the time I'm just too exhausted to think of anything at all. I drag my sorry ass out of bed, get it to work and into a seat, and try to make it through the day or at least till 3 pm before I give up and go home to sleep. I wake before dinner, and if B isn't home, I subsist on frozen Amy's tofu breakfast burritos, and then eagerly await 10:30 or 11 pm when I can crawl back into bed. Pregnancy is way more exhausting than anyone had ever warned me.

But I don't mind it. It's just that it doesn't seem connected to anything larger. It seems like I've always been tired, and always will be. It's hard to relate it to the fact that somewhere inside me, a baby soul is growing. I'm not throwing up, I haven't gained any weight, and we've been extremely conservative in telling friends and family. So it's very easy to not feel pregnant at all, and to think of nothing more than napping and eating and regular stuff.

However, today's ultrasound felt real. Unlike last time, there was more to see. The blob has distinct parts, I could see a head and "rump," the yolk sack and umbilical cord were there, the heartbeat is like boom-boom-boom, and the nurse-practitioner was effusive in her excitement. So different from last time.

A slightly more distinct blob this time!

I can't say I've relaxed totally, because I know we're not out of the high risk danger zone. I am not even quite 9 weeks. I have a bruise inside my uterus that may still cause some bleeding (it hasn't yet, but she said to take it easy) and that's a little scary, though not risky to the uterus' inhabitant.

After we left the clinic today, I was crying again in the car. They were toys of relief and of joy, but with some sadness mixed in. I am so grateful to have this future ahead of me, but as the pregnancy becomes more real, I'm also struggling with the donor egg part becoming more real too. This baby that I am growing is thriving because of the healthy eggs of someone else. A strong, healthy 23 year old woman gave me her genetic material so that I might have and carry a child. It's amazing and mind-blowing when you think about what this means. I will never see my eyes reflected in the same dark brown, I'll never catch my mom's smile in a little girl's face. I was not able to grow my own genetic child, but this healthy 23 year old shared her eggs so that I can. It's sorrowful and wonderful at the same time, and it's really happening. I am a science experiment that may indeed succeed, and it's modern medicine and my donor that is giving me this gift. I still want to cry when I think of what I've given up, and scream with happiness when I think of what I am still going to have instead. I cried there on the table today because it's still hard to believe that something worked for me at last, that I really can have a baby. I cried on the way home because I really can have a baby, though not in the way I'd hoped and dreamed when I started all this over two and a half years ago.

To all those still fighting for their babies-to-be, I am there with you. I may not have as much to say as I used to, but soon I will exit the brain fog of the first trimester and will have more concrete things to share. I do plan on starting a pregnancy after infertility group, because I do feel differently than my friends who have conceived naturally. I feel close to those who have walked the same hard path as I, and those who still have the fears and worries that continue to stay with me.

But for now, the most important thing on my mind is what I heard and saw today on that screen. Hello, embryo with a little heartbeat. I am so, so glad you are here with us.

Ends and Beginnings

Last IVF cycle, back in February, my 97 year old grandma was not doing well, and we thought it might be the end. My mom sent me this email:

End of life is a very difficult thing.  I am hoping that the end of my mother's life will coincide with the start of my granchild's life.  Wouldn't that be a fitting gift of the cosmos? Did you know that you were conceived on my 32 birthday?  That is a cosmic gift too.

Well, my granny pulled through, and when I saw her in April, she was doing okay. But today she died, after a bout of pneumonia following a broken hip. We didn't know it would happen so quickly, although she hasn't been strong for awhile and her dementia was getting worse and worse.

I am glad that my mom was there with her when she passed away, though sad that my mom had to be alone for this. My aunt and uncle were on the way from New York but this happened before they got there. I had just been talking to my mom this morning about whether and when I should come up, since the funeral will be later this summer when we can take her ashes up to the gravesite in New Jersey. But then she passed away before we expected, and now she is gone.

I am at work, but finding it hard to focus on any work, between this and my beta test in less than 48 hours. I know there is no connection between most things, but my mind went back to what my mom had written to me in February. Maybe the cosmos finally will send a gift our way.

Radical Honesty

Two weeks ago, I wrote a rambling post about other people's pregnancies. Specifically, I was telling about how a friend had announced her pregnancy on Facebook, and had hurt me by not mentioning it to me first, even though she knew of our troubles and we'd been emailing after she must have known about her pregnancy.

Well, I mostly put it out of my mind, but it still bothered me. But the night of my transfer, while in Atlanta, my email inbox pinged. Guess what it was? No, it wasn't her checking in with me or saying hello. It was a BABY SHOWER INVITE from her mother!

WTF. You don't mention your pregnancy to me even while asking about my IVFs, you post an obnoxious photo on Facebook that insults people who have cats instead of babies (ahem), and then you INVITE ME TO YOUR FUCKING BABY SHOWER??? Via mass email????

I drove home from Atlanta the next day, and try as I might, I just couldn't quit thinking about the audacity and outright rudeness of this. I really wanted to call and give her a piece of my mind, although my friends had counseled me not to. Also, and more importantly, I was driving. So I did nothing, but stewed about it for a long time.

That night, when I got home, I just couldn't resist. I emailed her probably too long of a message. Here is what I sent:

I want to tell you how hurt I was by your not taking the time and compassion to email me to tell me of your pregnancy before putting it to the world on Facebook, and by your not saying anything yet inviting me to your baby shower.

I understand that this is about you and not me, but you WATCHED me do my fertility shots. I MUST have told you how hard this is for me. I think you know I have done three rounds of IVF with no success. I have poured my heart and soul and a significant chunk of my life savings into trying to have a baby. Perhaps you do not realize how heartbreaking it is to me to not be able to have the process of pregnancy and a child. I know, I know, people all around us are getting pregnant, I get it. But I was hurt that you are my friend and you  knew of my struggles and did not bother to give me a heads-up before the Facebook posting (as many of my other friends have kindly done). According to my FB account, we were emailing as late as April, by which time you must have known you were pregnant. A simple thoughtful email or acknowledgement would have been nice.

I wasn't going to say anything, but then I received this baby shower invite and felt upset all over again. In what world is it considered okay to issue an invitation to celebrate a pregnancy to someone who is obviously is struggling over her inability after two and a half long years to enjoy the same thing? 

I keep hearing you tell me how you and [your husband] were "ambivalent" about children, and the injustice of life cannot be more clear. I recognize this is not your fault, of course.

I do wish you happiness and a healthy pregnancy, but I would have appreciated a friend's sensitivity and compassion in this situation.

I tried to make it nice but express how I felt and why her actions bothered me so much. I expected a bitchy retort, or perhaps radio silence. However, two and a half hours later, she wrote back. I won't post the whole thing here, but essentially she said that she is sorry, and that she just didn't know how to deal with it, so she didn't. She said that in retrospect she should have emailed me and she realizes that now.  Here is a little bit of how she wrote it:

I did take the time to think of your reaction, but I honestly didn't know the best approach to take. I thought sending you a personal email might make the sting stronger, because you would have to respond to a direct connection. I thought perhaps a public announcement would give you time to process your feelings and not feel the need to respond personally. I noticed that you didn't respond to the public announcement, but didn't want to make it more difficult by writing you and bringing attention to it.

So, I was pleasantly surprised that she did write back, though further annoyed that she actually thought about it and decided a public announcement was really kindest (WTF? does that make sense to anyone??? maybe to a fertile person).

I wrote back and said:
Thanks for writing back. I figured it was how you described it- you didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything. I know it was not an intentional thing, but it did really hurt me and I would say that in general, if you don't know what to say, saying something is often better than nothing. At least that's my opinion, from this side of the issue. One in eight couples struggle with fertility problems so it can be a sensitive topic for many, but it's also a hidden issue that most of us don't want to think or talk about, so we don't know how to deal with it.

The reason I wrote this is that although I don't think it's my job to educate the world, I do think that with 1 out of every 8 couples struggling with infertility, people SHOULD be more sensitive when announcing their news to the world via Facebook. I mean, I guess if you post that you got a new job, it could offend people who are under- or unemployed, and perhaps posting a photo of me with my husband could upset a single person who wants to be married?  I don't know, and maybe I am overthinking all of this, but I just think pregnancy is a weird issue. I'm not sure I can elucidate why, but especially for this friend, she KNEW someone struggling, so I still can't totally forgive her not taking the effort to do SOMETHING before fucking sending me a baby shower invite. That part, especially, I cannot understand.

Anyway, probably no one cares about my personal drama, but I am still struggling with my feelings over this. But mainly, I just want to start speaking up more when people do things that aren't right or aren't kind. I feel like I spend too much of my life being "pleasant" when I don't feel like it, to protect other people, but this incident made me feel like I shouldn't care so much when people aren't pleasant and don't think of my feelings. And as I wrote to her, infertility is not rare. Hello. Wake up. Be a good friend and a compassionate person when the opportunity is staring you in the face.

Obviously this is about more than just my friend, and is bigger than one person or one issue. I just haven't fully processed it, but this helped.

As a closing note, I'll also say that for the fifth time in a row, my dad sent me a godawful cat statue for my birthday. And I finally, at last, told him the truth. "Please don't send me any more cat-themed items." And he didn't get upset!  Score 1 for (careful and kind) radical honesty!

Transfer Day

I've done three IVF transfers before, but yesterday morning was the first time I've ever walked into the clinic and not wanted to burst into tears. For the first time ever, I grinned as I greeted the receptionist: I was going in for a five day blastocyst transfer- a good, strong, healthy embryo!

My friend went with me, and we got settled into the transfer room. The nurses checked my bladder and it was full enough (I was afraid I'd pee right on the table there!). The doctor and the embryologist came in, and they gave me the amazing news: of the 7 eggs that fertilized from the 8 that were provided, I had one amazing, grade AA embryo to transfer and 4 great quality blasts that had already been frozen! There are also two more that might also have been frozen today (note to self: email nurse and check to see if that happened or not).

This was above and beyond my wildest dreams and I cannot express how thrilled I am with these numbers. The clinic's nurses were all so nice, and my doctor and the embryologist were wonderful. When they projected my perfect little embryo on the screen, I couldn't help but start crying. I think my friend was crying too, just because it all seemed so magical and special. She held my hand and it felt like something truly otherworldly was happening. When I saw the bright dot at the end of the catheter released into my uterus, it felt like all of my struggles and troubles with my own eggs was almost redeemed by this one perfect embryo. I know it's weird, but I already felt like it's mine.

No, I did not transfer a cat embryo. This is just my friend's adorable kitty, and my adorable embryo.

Anyway, I don't want to get too involved or too fixated on what may or may not come to be. The doctor said with an embryo this good, my chances are about 70% success. But he cautioned me that 70% means that still 30% of cycles, even with this perfect embryo, result in a negative. I am hoping and praying that I come out on the good side of the odds for once, but I am somewhat comforted by the fact that I have either 4 or 6 blasts waiting for me, if this cycle should fail (and if not.. they are waiting, if I should want them in a couple of years...).

It was hard to watch this cycle go better than planned, when my own have failed so miserably. But I am trying not to think about this, and to instead focus on the positive. I test a week from tomorrow, and all I can do is wait, hope, and stare at the photo of my one, perfect embryo. It feels so good to have hope again.

Other people's pregnancies

One week from today we will be in Atlanta, my donor's eggs will be unfrozen, and combined with my husband's sperm. If all goes well, I won't be brought back in till Wednesday, June 19th, for a five day, single embryo transfer. Then I will drive myself home the next day, and the following day is my 33rd birthday. My goal was to be done by my birthday, and sure enough, we are track for that. Of course I won't test till the week after my birthday, but at least we'll be done with the Atlanta part.

I had a pretty hard weekend after I last wrote. I recently have become good friends with a woman from my local support group. I had been close with four other women, and one by one, three of the four are all pregnant (or delivered a baby, in one case). That's been hard- I love getting their updates and am so happy for them, but sometimes I feel like a failure. I'm the only one who has gotten negative IVFs every time and am still here, infertile.

Anyway, recently I've become friendly with a new-ish member of the group. We're very different in a lot of ways, but we are the same age, and we've both been trying for a baby for 2.5 years. I encouraged her to shop around for a new clinic and she ended up switching to my clinic here. They did one IUI, negative. They did another one, and she texted me on Thursday that she had gotten a faint positive, but then a BFN the next day. She seemed upset and hopeless, and asked if we wanted to have dinner with her and her husband on Saturday night. I offered to cook, and planned a lovely meal that we could eat on the deck.

Well, Friday night she found out she is pregnant. Definitely pregnant.

I was.. deflated. Now, don't get me wrong: I am thrilled for her. She is wonderful and deserves to be a parent. I have wished nothing for the best for her. But to hear of yet another support group member's pregnancy can be hard. I wish I had my treatments work. I wish I had gotten pregnant from an IUI or an IVF and my own eggs. I wish, I wish. But, it isn't going to happen.

So, I was truly happy for her, but also sad that I'm losing yet another companion in this path of infertility, and that I feel like a failure yet again. But when I woke up Saturday, I was determined to be a gracious host to them for dinner, and to have a nice weekend before and after that.

Then, the kiss of death: Facebook.

I checked Facebook. And a high school friend of mine announced her pregnancy. In the worst, most obnoxious way: one of those ridiculous photo shoots with her and her husband and a due date and a stupid little baby bump prominently featured.

This was a friend (notice WAS) that WATCHED me do my shots one year ago, when I visited her at her home. She told me she probably didn't want kids, that she is really focused on her PhD, that both her husband and herself are "ambivalent" about children.

Why, universe? Why should someone who is ambivalent about wanting children get pregnant so easily, so quickly (I know they went on vacation in January- I assume they were not trying before then), yet I, who have longed for a baby for so many years, cannot? Life is so unfair, so deeply, deeply unfair.

As if this weren't bad enough, I looked back at my emails and we'd been writing back in April. When she was two months pregnant, by my calculations. She asked how IVF was going and I relayed that it hadn't worked and we are sad and don't know what to do next.

She said NOTHING about being pregnant.

And it's not that she should have to, but I would have really appreciated a short note or email before she posted that obnoxious, attention-hogging photo on Facebook. She KNOWS about my struggles and our pain and she couldn't even have said something, a short something? And she KNOWS about infertility, through at least me if not others, and she still thought her FB obnoxiousness was something wise to do?  I have had plenty of other friends become pregnant, and I am happy for them, and when they've told me, via email usually, then it's totally fine.

What do you think, readers? Am I being way too sensitive? Should we not expect some sensitivity after disclosure to a close friend? Is this just not something people should be expected to think about? Am I crazy for being angry at her and wanting to tell her how insensitive this was?

I won't do anything. She lives far away and we don't see each other more than once or twice a year, and she's not obligated to protect my feelings or do anything, and I suspect she'd just think I was crazy if I were to say anything. Perhaps, if this cycle works, and I am coming from a more positive place, then I can say something... or perhaps not.

To be positive, or not?

A friend from my Resolve support group just emailed to say she's heading out of state for another IVF. I wrote and told her I am also leaving in about 4 weeks for another cycle out of state, and she sent back:  

My best wishes for you on this new cycle, I admire you so much, you never give up and keep positive all the time.

Keep me posted, I will keep you posted as well.

Best regards and best wishes!!!!

I sat here at my desk and read this message a couple of times, puzzling over her first sentence. It is true that I never give up (8 medicated cycles, one surgery, two painful x-rays/diagnostic procedures, 3 IVFs, and now my first donor egg cycle- all in two years). But "keep positive all the time"?

I do not consider myself a super positive person. In fact, if you asked my husband, he'd say I'm more of a pessimistic, worrying type. I'm not always like that in life, but with my fertility, I've learned that things tend to not go my way. As evidenced by the long string of trials and tribulations I listed above, and the long string of negative pregnancy tests I've chucked in the trash.

Is it necessary to be positive to keep going? I think that's a difficult question. Yes, you have to keep hope in order to put up with all the discomfort, both physical and emotional. I've never given up hope, as my group member wrote. I've given up hope in the short term-like, for a specific procedure or test- but I've always kept my end goal in sight. I have wondered WHY, and I have asked myself over and over, WHAT are you doing, crazy pants??? You love your life the way it is, you have a happy marriage, good friends, love to travel, financial stability for the most part. But something keeps driving me forward. I feel that longing to give love and receive it, in the baby/child department. I am not sure my cat loves me but I think she does, and even when she isn't showing it (she is, after all, a cat), just by the act of me loving her, I get so much enrichment in my life, and my heart and soul feel so good when I can tell she is happy and content.

So, I don't know. I have never taken breaks, which might not be the healthiest thing. I have plunged ahead, from one attempt to the next. I have been careful in researching the best way forward, and checked stats and success rates carefully, but I have always been dead set on finding a way to keep going.

I haven't been positive. I worry, I complain, I question myself and others all the time. But I have been positive, somewhere deep inside me, that this is what I need to do. I mourned my loss of a genetic child, but deep down inside, I've known for awhile that this is where I'd end up. My embryos have never been good, and I've never responded well to medications. In some ways, it's depressing beyond anything else. But in others, if I can have a child via donor egg, I've achieved my end goal: to love and be loved by a little one.

I think my support group friend is a little bit right and a little bit wrong. I'm not positive. I'm realistic. For me, that's helped me to not give up. I keep my end goal as the ultimate goal, even if the actualization of how I'll get there has changed a bit. I've learned a lot about myself through infertility, but I also think it's made me more determined. Not more positive, but more positive about what I want, and that in the end, somehow I'm going to get there.

This is what a broken heart feels like

On Saturday morning, bright and early, B and I woke up. Normally we'll sleep till 9 on weekends, or sometimes later. But not this morning. We were up and in the bathroom before 7 am.

The test was negative. As I suspected and expected it to be.

We went back to bed but it was hopeless to go back to sleep. All things considering, we had an okay day after that. We took a long walk in the woods, a nap on the couch together, and met friends in Raleigh for dinner. Another friend came over later that night and we shared a bottle of wine.

Sunday was not so good. Sometimes the first day isn't so bad, but then the shock wears off and it becomes more real.. the lack of hope. Sunday I did yardwork and then we went for another long walk. However, we had a horrible fight in the woods. I was asking to mourn the loss of our last opportunity to have a biological child, and he just wanted to try to get me to think more positively about our other options and life in general. He also said he would like more support for the stress he is under at school.

Bullshit. That is such bullshit. This blog is not a forum to complain about my marriage, but I am still very upset with him. I know infertility can cause many couples to become unhappy with each other, and can break apart some marriages even. I know all this, and we've been doing okay over the past two years. But for some reason, this time I really wanted to mourn, and I wanted him to do it with me. And he couldn't, or wouldn't.

This turned into a 7 hour fight. Well, most of that was not actually fighting, it was him hiding upstairs and doing homework, and me crying and being miserable everywhere else. We did make up before bed, kind of.  He did bring home veggies and chocolate to try to make up, but my anger and sadness were overwhelming.

Today didn't start off too much better. Actually, it was awful. I woke up so exhausted from not enough sleep, and went to the gym to try to feel better. Doing Zumba for an hour did help. But then I had to go to the clinic to do the obligatory blood test. I guess I was a little dehydrated, presumably from the Zumba but perhaps also from crying so much yesterday. Anyway, three nurses tried to get a vein, resulting in my being stuck five times. They even sent me away and had me drink water and come back, but nothing. No vein, no blood. At this point I was bawling. I mean, uncontrollable crying, right there in the blood lab. The main nurse finally consulted with the attending, who told me to just go on home. I guess the pee test I did at home is gonna have to suffice.

This experience was torture. My arm is full of pain from the five needles I had in my right vein, and I cried myself hoarse at the clinic, in the car, and when I got home. I called B and told him I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown and he better damn well stop bickering with me and listen to what I need. I need someone to tell me they know how much I've been through, and that it's been HARD. I do not know anyone else who has been through three IVFs, and I am proud of myself for doing it, and I could use more acknowledgement from him. And when I say I don't need someone trying to cheer me up, but just to listen and try to empathize, that's what I want. I think he gets it now, after calling him at work today and having another little talk.

Overall, I feel that my heart has been broken, stomped on, and broken again. I know some of this is the hormones that are still in my body, and some of it is the lack of sufficient sleep I've had for three nights now. But most of it is just the plain and simple fact:  I will never have a biological child. I am 32 years old and cannot conceive, despite three IVFs with ICSI, costing more than $20,000 and two years of our lives. We will never know if it's my egg quality or his sperm's inability to fertilize, but the combo of me and him will never result in good embryos. We are done with our IVF journey.

Of course, all is not lost. I still intend to pursue embryo adoption, and traditional adoption is that does not work out. One of these days, I will be a parent, and maybe then my heart will begin healing.

4 More Days.. and Plan B

I had a pretty good weekend. A nice date night with B on Friday night where we tried this amazing Singapore style restaurant that we now are wondering how we didn't know about for the past 7 years! As an appetizer we had lettuce wraps that were served DIY- they give you the large lettuce leaves and a filling of tofu and onions and mushrooms, all marinated and delicious, and you get to make the wraps yourself. It was fun and tasty.  On Saturday I hung out with a friend all day- we went to the farmer's market, had a nice brunch in town, went used book shopping, etc. She is trying to get pregnant now and thinks she might already be. I have mixed feelings: of course I would be happy for her, but it's a little painful to watch someone at the beginning of their journey and remember how naiive I was, thinking of course it would be easy. I wish her none of our troubles.

On Sunday a friend came over and we did "fertility yoga." She used to teach it and I think she now trains instructors. In any case, I am not normally a big yoga fan, but it was so good to move my body for the first time in awhile. I've been abstaining from exercise for the past few weeks, to try to help with any possible implantation. But it was great to do some gentle yoga moves, with the sun pouring in and warming us both in my cheerful purple guest room (a.k.a. someday baby's room). Sunday night we had dinner with friends and none of them have kids.

So, I stayed pretty busy all weekend. I did not have time to laze around and feel sorry for myself very much. That is definitely a good thing.

As test date gets closer, I'm prepared for disappointment. I do not have my hopes up too high. Of course it would be the best thing ever if this could work, but I know the chances are not great.

However... we do have a plan B! Of course we will investigate adoption, but we are also starting to learn about embryo adoption. My main fears with adoption are: the birth mother's care of herself while pregnant (as we have heard many, if not almost all, birth mothers are using some amount of drugs or alcohol while pregnant), the massive financial cost (where on earth will we get the money needed?), and the intense process of applying, background checks, home studies (all sound so draining and we are already so weary from 3 IVFs). The lack of genetic connections with an adoptive child is not on my list of concerns. So that's why we are interested in embryo adoption. If we can have me carry the baby, we can control the environment since of course I will take good care of myself. We can avoid the financial toll since from what I read, it's not too much more than the cost of a frozen transfer (a couple of thousand versus $30K). And home studies and background checks are not always required.  I do not feel bad morally if we do not adopt a child that has already been born. A long time ago, or in another country, there was/is a need. But now, with there being years-long waiting lists and more demand than need, it's not like it was.

We still have many, many questions. But it is nice to have another option on the table.

Waiting is Hard

My friend sent me a video on self-compassion and it was really helpful to me right now. Especially right now, I can use a reminder that I often say things to myself that I wouldn't say to others... I should be kinder to myself, and work on being a good friend, or the friend I'd like to be to others.

 I'm okay sometimes, but I'm really depressed a lot of the time lately. A good deal of it may be the progesterone and estrogen that I am on (a patch and a suppository each morning- oh my god am I hungry all the time too!). But a lot of it is feeling like a huge failure. It's bad enough that I couldn't get pregnant after trying for over two years now, but now I keep telling myself that I am an IVF failure as well. Many of the women in the support group that I was close to all got pregnant from their first IVF- and meanwhile, my third one was pretty much a bust. Not having three IVFs work does seem to be unusual, and not what I had expected to happen. Of course I had the two embryos transferred on Sunday, but neither was good quality.

I don't test until the Saturday after this one, but I know I'm not pregnant. We've spent so much money and time and heartbreak on this. Sometimes when my grief consumes me, it's all I want anymore. I feel so burdened by the grief that I can't do much else to improve other areas of my life. I just feel trapped and sad and there is nothing I can do to change my basic biological inability to have what comes so easily to most people.  Of course we will adopt, but I feel so exhausted already, and adoption involves FBI background checks, a home study by a social worker, psychological evaluations, and upwards of $30,000 that we don't have just laying around. It could be years. It all feels so very unfair. I guess I need to take this to a professional, though even that seems a lot of work. But I will do it. For now, I just need to wait out the next 9 days and see.

Two Week Wait: Week One

Last time I wrote was Trigger Day. All went fine with triggering, and I had no nausea the way I did the first time. I did have some mild cramping all day Wednesday, but no big deal.

Thursday was retrieval. We got there bright and early, 7:30 am. I was excited and anxious, ready to be done with the monitoring phase of the cycle and eager to hear how many of the possible 7 eggs I would have retrieved.

For some reason, though, I was much more nervous than in the past. The retrieval room was much scarier than my old clinic's. As much as I didn't like my old clinic, they had a great set-up in their IVF suite. They had dim lights, the room was warm, and they played soft music to help calm the patient. At my new clinic, not so much. They started the anti-nausea drip in my IV, which made me extremely dizzy. Not in a bad way, it was almost fun  :)  but it was a little disconcerting. Anyway, the actual room was NOT warm and fuzzy the way my old clinic's room had been. It was bright white, sterile, and COLD. As I got on the table, my knees were knocking like crazy. They also could have waited a minute longer for the amnesia drugs to kick in. They inserted the speculum, which doesn't hurt but is never fun, and that is the last thing I remember.

Apparently I slept for a while afterwards. When I woke up, the nurse told me and B that they had retrieved 6 eggs. I was groggy and tired, but happy enough with that number. We went home and I slept much of that day.

The next day, I got bad news. Out of my 6 eggs, only 5 were mature. Okay, that was fine. But here is the bad part, that even the Fellow warned me I would not like: although we used ICSI, I only had TWO fertilize. TWO. That is really no better than any of my other cycles.
Cycle One: Six eggs retrieved, 1 fertilized normally, 1 fertilized late
Cycle Two: Four eggs retrieved, 2 fertilized with ICSI
Cycle Three: Six eggs retrieved with 5 mature, 2 fertilized with ICSI

ICSI typically should fertilize anywhere between 60-80%. With me, I've now had 50% and this time I had 40%. Pathetic! Why was I pumping myself full of drugs, going through a scary medical procedure, and then having ICSI totally fail me, with no more embryos than I've ever achieved before. So, so disappointing. I don't know how many times I cried on Friday.

But we went in on Sunday as planned. Upon arriving, I did acupuncture. I was told that my two embryos were ready to go. They were both, sadly, only 4 cells. By day three, they should be 6-8 cells. The fragmentation was 75% and 25%. That first number is bad. Low implantation potential. The second number is okay, pretty good, pretty average from what I have read.

I came home Sunday, so sad and disappointed. I had really hoped that a new clinic and a new protocol was going to bring better results. I had to ask for a Valium on Sunday for the transfer, because my nerves were so shot and I was so anxious and sad.

However, upon closer examination of the photos on Sunday, I did start to feel a bit better. My embryos are only 4 cells, but one of them looks much cleaner and crisper, with less fragmentation that any of the other embryos from previous cycles.

So, I'm still sad, and we've decided that we won't try a 4th cycle if this one doesn't work. We just feel that we have a quality/quantity problem and a fertilization problem to boot. Who knows if it's my egg quality that prevents the sperm from coming in, or if there is a serious sperm issue. It doesn't matter, but what it means is that we don't make good embryos. And we've tried two clinics and two protocols, one which all three doctors I interviewed back in October had recommended. I think we are at the end of the rope here.

So, I am hoping that one of these embryos is nestling in, but ultimately I realize that the chances are not very good. I have cried and grieved so many times, and I have to get off this crazy bus.

For that reason, we've talked about adoption, and how we think that is the next step. We don't want to wait too long before pursuing it either. I want a baby, I've already waited over two years, and I want my heart to heal. I do not think remaining childless is going to get any easier.

Life feels so unfair right now. Why am I surrounded by babies, and even my IVF friends have mostly all become pregnant this year too? I am sure my friend B's cycle right now is going to result in pregnancy and I will be happy for her, but I can't deny it will hurt. It's hard not to feel like a double failure: a pregnancy failure, and now a three-times IVF failure.

I have done everything I can do. All I can do is wait and hope now, and temper that hope with realism. March 9th, you will be here soon enough.

Trigger Day!

I haven't updated in awhile, not sure why. I've been emailing with friends to share my progress, and keeping track of it all in my little blue book (which Dr. M asked me about yesterday, as I was frantically writing down follicle sizes during my ultrasound- he probably thinks I am a totally neurotic weirdo). Here is my little blue book that goes everywhere with me nowadays:

And here is one page from inside, with my estradiol readings from all three of my IVF cycles:

Now, to sum up the past 4 days: on Friday we went in for an 8:45 appointment, where we saw that my follicles were continuing to grow but I was not showing a whole lot of improvement. I had 4-5 follicles measuring around 10mm. My lining was 6, which is thin but not terrible. I was disappointed, but later we learned my estrogen had doubled- which is a good sign. But it was still low, just 191, and you can see from the chart above that it was much higher my first cycle. 

We went back Sunday, and saw some improvement. My lining had gone up to 7, which is much better. Ideal for implantation is anything over 7, though somewhat higher is even better. As for follicles, they had really improved: I had six ones over 10mm, and two at 8.5mm, and about 4 under. They said I was getting very close. My lead follicle was 15.5*13, with some 13s and 11s. My estrogen came in at 489, which was a big step up from Friday. We were asked to come back again the next day to see about triggering.

So, we came back Monday, and things were looking even better. Lining was at 8.3, and I had a couple of follicles at 18 and 18.5 (lead one at 18.5*13.5), and a total of seven over 10mm, with six of those over 12mm. My estradiol came back at 765- a big jump, considering it was only 24 hours, not 48 hours like the others. 

To sum it all up, we decided to keep me on one more night of meds, but we dropped my Follistim to half what it has been. This morning was my last Ganerelix shot, and tonight I trigger at 7 pm. I go in for retrieval at 7:30 am on Thursday. Transfer will be Sunday.

I'm feeling really positive, much better than at the start of this cycle. This different protocol has led to similar results as my first cycle, but way, way better than my second cycle. Of course we won't know anything definite till retrieval, but I feel hope again. I also feel weepy- but that, of course, is mostly my high estrogen levels. I also want chocolate! And cookies! All the time! But I am trying to control myself  :)

In other news, my 97 year old granny is nearing the end. My mom just sent me this email, which is so sad. I had to put my head down and cry at work for a couple of minutes, but it's also such a sweet email too. My mom is wonderful and I hope I end up making this come true: 

"End of life is a very difficult thing.  I am hoping that the end of my mother's life will coincide with the start of my granchild's life.  Wouldn't that be a fitting gift of the cosmos? Did you know that you were conceived on my 32 birthday?  That is a cosmic gift too.

I am off to sit with granny for a bit now. 

I love you sooo much. you are wonderful.

xxxx ooo mom

Feeling blue

I know my nurse said not to worry, but I can't help it.

We had friends over for dinner last night and that was a great distraction, but I'm at home today and B is in class till 9:45 pm, so it's a long day on my own. Luckily I have acupuncture soon, and that should help.

Today is also Valentine's and that's depressing, somehow. Everyone is posting adorable photos of their babies on Facebook and I don't think I'll get to have one to hold anytime soon.

Tonight I plan to spend the evening with some leftover squash, my kitty cat, and last week's Downton Abbey episode, which I am looking forward to.

Blah. Hope to get better news tomorrow about my estradiol and follicles. Right now I feel hopeless.

ISO: My Period

Today is day 38 of my cycle. I am not kidding. Where, where, WHERE has my period gone?

I have only had one non-medicated cycle since my endo surgery last March, and it was 26 days. So I expected maybe a 28 or 30 day cycle... but 38 days!?!? Wtf?

If I don't get my period on day 46 or before (next Wednesday or before, and today is Tuesday), I'm screwed. It means that if I can't get my day 3 bloodwork and my water sono done before we leave next Friday for Ecuador, then I will get my period while we are gone, be unable to have the tests done, and then have to go a whole extra cycle before doing. So another 40 or more days, then do the testing, and then finish out that 40 plus day cycle. Basically, I won't be able to do IVF till March or so. I was supposed to be able to start in January, and this means an extra six weeks or more.

When I realized this, after calling the clinic and asking if there isn't anything they can do (answer: no), I had another meltdown and ended up crying in the conference room at work. B had to come get me and we went for a walk so I could calm down.

Why can't I ever get a break? It's bad enough that I have to have 8 failed Clomid cycles, 2 failed IVFs, an invasive laparoscopic surgery, endometriosis, and now I can't even have my period come in a reasonable amount of time. Day 38!?!?

I feel like I might lost all my sanity if I think about this anymore. If my period does not come by next Wednesday, I really am going to lose it.

Adoption Thoughts

No news on my period yet, but came across a quote in a book about adoption that made me get all teary on the couch last night:

    She is a joyous girl, but her questions began, if only tentatively. "Why did you choose me? Were the other babies ugly?"
    "I chose you because I fell in love with you when you turned your head and looked into my eyes," I
    tell her. "I saw your soul, and knew you were my daughter."

As much as I am totally committed to doing IVF one or possibly two more times, I find myself being more and more open to adoption. Hearing from the adoption foundation that came to speak at Resolve and the founders who shared their personal story of five miscarriages and eventual adoption and their great love for their son, and reading Dan Savage's book about adopting, both made me more deeply consider it as a viable and even happy option. Being a mother is about parenting, and not pregnancy, and these books and the couple from Goetz made me contemplate this possibility. I know that B feels strongly that he wants that biological link, but he is also totally committed to having a child by whatever means possible, and so he is open to it too. In fact, it's me pushing the last couple of tries with IVF- I want to feel that I did everything possible (also, it would be cheaper if it works, and at least we'd feel comfortable with our genetics and no depression/cancer/etc and a guarantee of no smoking/drinking during pregnancy).

Anyway, it also reminds me of the other two quotes that constantly go through my head, both of which I have posted on this blog earlier and also make me cry to re-read:

     I can't know the pain you may have experienced in your quest for conception- the disappointment, the frustration, the hope and the hopelessness of each negative pregnancy test. Perhaps you, like me, have felt the heartbreak of conceiving and losing a child. Perhaps, like me, you have given the power over your own body to doctors in the hope that somehow they will make everything better. I don't know why we have been chosen to undertake such a painful journey, why we must go through such struggles to bring our children into the world. But I do know that when we look into our babies' faces, they will never have to wonder if they were really wanted. Ours are the children who, no matter how they came to us, will look at their parents and know, from the deepest place in their heart, how much we cherish them, and how we labored to give them life. And in that there is no greater security and no greater gift. 
(from a book on acupuncture, can't remember the title)

and

“I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. I’m saying it’s going to be worth it.”
(Quote read on someone else's fertility blog)

and finally, from my mom:

You, my sweetness, were wanted, planned, and adored from your very first moment. I think this is a case of "quality over quantity." When people have asked me, why i did not have any other children since i love and enjoy you so much, i say that i had one perfect winner. why would i want to screw the odds.

Day 32

Day 32 of my cycle and no period. WTF? I used to have long cycles, but I thought the endo surgery would help correct that. I've only done one natural cycle since then, and it was only 26 days. I wimped out and took a pregnancy test two days ago, and of course it was negative. So now I don't know what to do except wait, and see. If I still don't get it by Saturday, I can test again, but I'm sure it will come. It would be a miracle, an absolute miracle, if I got pregnant before starting this whole IVF mess again, but miracles don't happen to me anymore. Not when it comes to my fertility.

I really just don't understand. If my long cycles and delayed ovulation were my endo, then what's the deal now, post-surgery? What is wrong with me? If we thought maybe it was mainly B's confused sperm, which the tests show being borderline for forward motility and the one non-ICSI IVF confirmed an abysmal fertilization rate, then this long cycle shows that isn't it either. My egg quality sucked during the IVFs but I thought maybe I was over-suppressed. I just don't understand. Everything else about me is so healthy, and I eat well and exercise and I wouldn't say I am under undue stress. Aughh!

In other fertility news, I am still the de facto coordinator of the RESOLVE support group, and still wondering how to handle the problem we had last meeting with a new person. Today I talked to a woman at the national headquarters, about our "difficult" new person. She talked/complained about her children (three of them! for real) and bragged about her 100% insurance coverage (and adoption coverage too). I am nervous to talk to her before the next meeting, but it has to be done. We don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable, and she really dominated the group. Not okay. Hopefully she will not come back, or has found support some other way. Sigh.

Anyway, for now I will continue life as usual, just waiting for my period, hoping it won't come, but wishing it would soon if it's gonna. I'm terrified of the water sonogram but just want to get it over with too. Also, we leave for Ecuador in two and a half weeks (exciting!) and I'd like to have our January plan set up before then.

I can't believe it's been two years. I should have a baby in my arms now, but no. It's just me, my distracted husband, and my spoiled kitty cat. Same old, same old. Not feeling very cheerful today.

Decision

As of last Thursday, I was feeling okay about ARC. Not wonderful, but okay. I liked the doctor and liked her intention to try a different protocol, but the drive is kind of a pain. A lot of time on the highway. Their prices are higher than other clinics, and it bothers me a little bit that the place was so empty. I worry a little about a place that is so new and untested, yet charges so much more than well-established places. I went into the next two consults with curiosity and a bit of nervousness that one of them, or both, would tell me not to waste my time. However, that was not the case.

My consult with Duke was first. I was prepared to not like them, and to not want another big university-based experience. However, I was totally impressed by both the clinic and the doctor. The clinic is near Southpoint and therefore pretty convenient- not as close as my old clinic of course, but I can get there in 20 minutes with no traffic. It's in a free-standing building with plenty of parking right out front, which is also nice and different from my previous experience of having to pay for parking and walk quite a bit (not really something you always want to do after procedures). It wasn't as fancy as ARC, but certainly didn't have the public hospital, slightly grungy feel of my old clinic. I also liked the tea machine  :)

Anyway, I spent only half an hour with the doctor but he answered all of my questions with confidence and with as much certainty as you can possibly expect or hope to hear. He agreed that there is no guarantee, but that it's likely the birth control and Lupron were over-suppressing me. In fact, he scoffed at the fact that I did two cycles on Lupron. He said Lupron is considered good for endometriosis patients, but that with a low responder like me, it's a bad idea. He said that it's an outdated treatment regimen that he hasn't been using for 15 years. He also disapproved of my having the endo surgery, and indicated that it may have caused more harm than good to my fertility. While I don't know, since he didn't see all my surgery records, that was upsetting to hear. He think it is worth one or two more tries, with my age and my great AMH. He predicts I will do at least as well in quantity, but what he really wants to focus on is quality.  He told me that is his goal for me. He will not let me go too long, but trigger much earlier, and he won't have me on such high drug levels. He doesn't need lots of eggs or big follicles, but good ones. I left feeling reassured. He advised me to quit the birth control and come back at the end of next cycle for AMH and FSH testing, and a baseline ultrasound and a water sonogram. We'll see how many antral follicles I have and plan for January. I left feeling calm and hopeful.

The next day, I spoke with the doctor from SG. It's funny, because I expected to not like Duke and to like SG, and it was the total opposite. Whereas I trusted the Duke doctor and felt that he fully and respectfully explained each part of his thinking to me, the SG doctor completely turned me off. He didn't seem to review my records personally, and would not give me the details I politely requested from him. I wanted exact medication recommendations, but he just kept saying, "We'll double what you were on." Huh? I was already nearly maxed out on allowable/beneficial amounts. He recommended another sperm analysis, but I don't see the point since we're doing ICSI regardless. A test won't change our treatment, so why bother? When I politely argued this, he then agreed. But what most upset me was his insistence on a repeat HSG. I had a traumatic first HSG and he said we can do sedation, but that is likely to run me thousands of dollars. I guess Maryland patients have the insurance for this, but I do not. Unless I have a clear and logical explanation for why this is helpful, why would I agree? He would not clearly explain the necessity. Something about leakage from my tubes post surgery could affect implantation... while this makes some vague sense, he did not bother to explain it to me. He didn't seem to want to explain anything to me, but just for me to blindly follow all recommendations. I have come too far and am too experienced to take this attitude, and I am done following doctors without understanding or agreeing. The whole consult made me uncomfortable and upset me, and I was very late to work due to my crying.

Some of why I was crying is not his fault. All three doctors seem to agree that Lupron was not the protocol for me, especially after an unsuccessful first cycle. They all think the surgery may have irreparably harmed my fertility. I am confused by what this all means, and how I may have wasted so much time and emotions and money on what turns out to not have been the best treatments for me. I am upset that I didn't do my research well and went to a clinic with such low success rates compared to the other clinics in my area. I have been through so much heartbreak and stress and anxiety, and it has affected my relationships, my work, my self-esteem, and my friendships. It sucks.

And now I have these large, looming doubts about the HSG. I wonder if it would tell us something, but my guess is that it would not. And even if it showed some obstacle to implantation, would that really change anything? We would still try IVF again, because nothing is ever certain, and we would hope that with increased quality, we'd have a better outcome. Furthermore, I don't think I have it in me to go through all this with SG, without B being with me for a week or more. My mom and dad are great, but being home in my bed, with my kitty and my husband- that's what I need when going through IVF.

I did ask the nurse at Duke to ask the doctor there about an HSG and he reiterated that a water sonogram is what he will do. I would like to ask him about this again, and about implantation factors, when I see him in about a month for the next consult. I know he and the ARC doctor believe it is probably the quality that has prevented implantation, and I keep reminding myself that the HSG is probably not going to change our decision tree anyway. I will try not to dwell on it anymore. K loved her experience at Duke, and that means a lot, and their outcomes are as high, even a slight bit higher, than SG.

Another thing I have decided, in addition to going to Duke, is to buy just one round at a time. Though I intend to try IVF twice more, I do want to see how the first time goes. If it's really lousy or if by some miracle it works, maybe I will be glad I didn't pre-pay for two cycles. Also, if I hate it, I could always try a different clinic. I do not think I'd have the energy to try a third place, but it's always an option. A friend of a friend mentioned the Colorado Clinics. Their outcomes are amazing, like in the 70% success range (versus Duke's 50-ish% and my old clinic's 38%) but so are their prices, and again, there's the issue of being away from home, and even worse, without my family. No, with B's school and work, it's just not an option.


I should get back to work now, but I wanted to give an update. For now, I got my period yesterday, and I'm just supposed to complete a regular, unmedicated cycle. Then I go back to Duke and do the testing, and prepare for a January start. Maybe it's the consults and the upsetting SG talk, or the fact that I got my period , or that B is always busy with school and so I'm alone again a lot, but the past few days have been really hard for me. Although Duke gave me hope, and really all three of them had hopeful outlooks, I do feel pretty pessimistic. I feel that we're going to spend a ton of money and time and emotional output on two more cycles, only to be child-less, poorer, and bitter (in my case, not sure about B). But, I also am not ready to give up. It's a tough place to be in and I am just glad for the break, for Ecuador in December, and for K's unending support and companionship throughout all this. I can't believe that she is moving and I will have to do this on my own in January, but that's another problem to dwell on another day.

Day 5: Not a Good Day

Yesterday I got bad news. At 3:45 pm, the nurse FINALLY called me back with my blood work (probably though  not definitely because I sent a worried email to her right before that). Since I started on 225 IU of Follistim, instead of 175 like last cycle, I assumed my estrogen would be higher than 99, which is what it was last time. They like to see it 150 or above.

Well, it wasn't higher. In fact, despite my higher dosage, it was pathetically lower. Only 44. 44! How could that be??? I almost cried on the phone with the nurse, but she was short with me and not helpful. I went to K's house and it was good to see her and to go to the RESOLVE support group, but I was distressed all night long. I cried and yelled at B several times on the phone (he was still out of town; he came home very late last night/early this morning).

After a much interrupted night of sleep, due to B coming in at 5 am, the cat's usual nonsense, and my inability to fall back asleep due to nerves, I couldn't take it anymore at 1 pm and finally emailed Dr. F. He reassured me by writing: "Thank you for your message.  I am sorry that the test result yesterday upset you so.  Yes, it was a bit lower than expected, based on your pattern of response not so long ago, but certainly there also are fluctuations and variations from cycle to cycle.  Please understand that the whole purpose of the day 4 estrogen level is to afford us an early opportunity to intervene and adjust where necessary to optimize your overall response to stimulation.  Needless to say, I will look forward to seeing what your visit reveals tomorrow, but I honestly believe that the likelihood of recommending a cycle cancellation tomorrow is very small.  I fully expect your estrogen level to rise significantly and will be quite surprised if it does not. 

I hope that this information is helpful to you.  I look forward to seeing the outcome of your visit tomorrow." [my emphasis added]

So I calmed down after that. I just keep repeating to myself, "the likelihood of recommending a cycle cancellation tomorrow is very small." That has to be my mantra if I am going to get any sleep tonight and not have a total stomach ache when I get up in the morning. Luckily, my appointment is at 7:30 am, so I don't have long to wait.

In other news, K's beta doubled! She is really pregnant! I am so happy and relieved for her. This IVF thing really does work for some people....

Down In the Dumps

It's been almost a week since my negative pregnancy test(s). I am pretty depressed.

I haven't wanted to talk to hardly anyone about this. I emailed my friends who knew, and my parents, and told them I don't want to talk about it. I haven't made an appointment with my therapist. I just don't have anything positive to say, so who wants to hear it.

On the up side, we have an appointment with Dr. F on Friday morning. Maybe I will feel more upbeat when we have a new game plan. But I just don't see how we can do anything soon, with our New York trip over Labor Day and B's five day trip to California the next weekend. I guess we will have to wait, and I just feel so hopeless and depressed when we're waiting. If B insists on going to this bachelor party and we have to wait another month, I am going to lose it. Maybe that won't be an issue. Scheduling and timing is always so dependent on my clinic.

I'm exercising, eating okay, and getting sleep. Doing all the things I should be, but just feeling angry, bitter, and hopeless. Easily irritated too. B's parents were here this weekend and I wanted to strangle them sometimes. But I normally feel that way, so I guess that's no big change. My mom and aunt arrive on Friday night. What a time for visitors.

Anyway, nothing else to say. I'm just miserable and sad and feel very hopeless about my life. B is about to start school in October and I thought I'd have a baby by now to keep me company. Everyone is having babies and posting baby photos on FB and I am still here, where I was 19 months ago. Life is so unfair.