The Washington Post's weekend magazine section has a feature story on men and their experience with infertility that is worth a quick read: http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/magazine/for-men-infertility-often-becomes-a-private-heartache/2013/06/05/049e33ca-ba6b-11e2-b94c-b684dda07add_story.html
Much of what the men say in this article rings completely true to me. My husband also has a more positive outlook and doesn't seem to need the support that I seek out, yet I know it affects him deeply too. It's good to see an article being published in a major news outlet that explores some of these issues.
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Friday, June 7, 2013
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.
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.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
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.
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.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Infertile Humor
I'm not sure why, but I have a special hatred for those stick figures people put on their cars, of each family member. They seem so.. smug.
Anyway, this is what I would like to stick on my car, just so I can be the most bitter one out there :)
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Ten words that describe infertility
A friend of mine who is now pregnant, but used to be in my RESOLVE support group, sent me this blog posting.
It's written from a man's perspective, but I can relate to every single one of these ten words that describe infertility. I found the "ambivalence" (#10) particularly interesting. He writes, "Every time you have to go through another kind of treatment, you ask yourself:
“Is it worth it? Do I really want it that bad?” And then in the very next breath, you are taken out by the sheer magnitude of how much you want a baby."
It's written from a man's perspective, but I can relate to every single one of these ten words that describe infertility. I found the "ambivalence" (#10) particularly interesting. He writes, "Every time you have to go through another kind of treatment, you ask yourself:
“Is it worth it? Do I really want it that bad?” And then in the very next breath, you are taken out by the sheer magnitude of how much you want a baby."
I, too, have often struggled with feelings of ambivalence. I never really thought about having kids.. until I did. Sometime after getting married in 2009, my friends started to get pregnant and have babies, and I held their children, and saw how enriched their lives were with love.
I see the other side too, however- the screaming, whiny kids, the sleep deprivation, the financial stress. I enjoy sleeping in till 9:30 on weekends and making fancy dinners on a regular basis, going out to eat and spending all Saturday at a wine show with friends in the sun. We've taken amazing trips to foreign and exotic countries (in the last five years: Mexico, Thailand, Korea, Peru, Mexico again, Ecuador) and been able to spend money on frivolous things and more important things like making our home beautiful. I often think, okay it's one thing to have sex and easily conceive.. but is the medical invasion, the stress, and the very significant financial hit we are taking worth it?? When I am not one of those women who always knew and yearned for babies?
But then.. then, when I am least expecting it, yet also quite regularly, I also feel "taken out by the sheer magnitude of how much [I] want a baby." And then I am pushed forward, forward, forward in this two year quest to have and to hold that baby, to watch the toddler grow up, and to hopefully have a relationship like the one I have with my own parents. I hear what my mom often says, that I was the best decision she's ever made and the best thing to ever happen to her. I know what it is to be a wanted child, and I feel that what I am doing, what I am putting us through, is hopefully going to be worth it all in the end.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Bad Blood
On Friday I went to my primary care doc, to have some blood tests completed for the donor egg pre-cycle screening. Since I am completely out of fertility coverage through my insurance ($5000 doesn't get you very far when you've done 8 medicated cycles and 3 IVFs), I thought I'd try to see if insurance would cover it if done through my regular doctor.
Side note: I recently received a bill for over $700 for two measly ultrasounds. This is what happens when your insurance benefits for fertility run out. They don't TELL you, they just hit you with the bills later. This was particularly infuriating because I can see on my billing statement that my own insurance only pays $150 for ultrasounds. So why should I have to pay $350, as a self-pay patient? WTF. I called the hospital system to see about this, and why I should have to pay more than twice what my insurance would have to pay, and was told they will give me a 50% discount. To be honest, they should give more than that, since the insurance only pays $150, why should I pay $175? But, I am grateful to save $350 so I will take it. Still... WTF?
Okay, back to my doctor's visit. I went to the lab area to get my blood drawn for everything under the sun, thanks to the fact that all my bloodwork is one year and one month, and it has to be within one year. Sigh. So I roll up my sleeve and show the phlebotomist my one good vein, the only one that has ever been used, in my right elbow. Well, she wasn't able to get anything from it. Remember when I went to my fertility clinic for my pregnancy test three weeks ago, and they couldn't get anything (did I write about that? can't remember. it was awful)? Same story. Apparently my one good vein is covered in scar tissue due to the many, many blood draws that I have had in the past year. The needle goes in, but the scar tissue prevents blood from being accessible.
So, she tried other places, but I have really tiny veins. I must have been there for half an hour. Finally, she goes for my left hand and smacks it a few times (ouch!). At last, a vein pops up. But it's a hand vein and not an elbow vein, so it was slooooooow. She had to label the blood vials "special handling" so that the lab doesn't waste a single drop, since we didn't get as much as usual.
O.M.G. All I can say is, thank god I am doing donor egg, with a minimum of blood draws needed. IVF requires so many. From now on, I won't be able to donate blood, and any blood draws will need to come from my hand, which is way more of a pain than the crook of the elbow. My blood is slow and my veins suck, and it's just all really upsetting and reminds me of how much I have been through in the past year. Nobody tells you that your veins will be destroyed from IVF.
Sorry for so much complaining. I came home covered in bandaids and wraps on Friday, but the good news was that on my way home, the clinic in Atlanta called. I have a phone consult set up with the doctor on April 24th! I am very much looking forward to it- now I just need to spend the next 3 1/2 weeks gathering up all our medical records and writing down my questions. But, glad to be moving forward.
Side note: I recently received a bill for over $700 for two measly ultrasounds. This is what happens when your insurance benefits for fertility run out. They don't TELL you, they just hit you with the bills later. This was particularly infuriating because I can see on my billing statement that my own insurance only pays $150 for ultrasounds. So why should I have to pay $350, as a self-pay patient? WTF. I called the hospital system to see about this, and why I should have to pay more than twice what my insurance would have to pay, and was told they will give me a 50% discount. To be honest, they should give more than that, since the insurance only pays $150, why should I pay $175? But, I am grateful to save $350 so I will take it. Still... WTF?
Okay, back to my doctor's visit. I went to the lab area to get my blood drawn for everything under the sun, thanks to the fact that all my bloodwork is one year and one month, and it has to be within one year. Sigh. So I roll up my sleeve and show the phlebotomist my one good vein, the only one that has ever been used, in my right elbow. Well, she wasn't able to get anything from it. Remember when I went to my fertility clinic for my pregnancy test three weeks ago, and they couldn't get anything (did I write about that? can't remember. it was awful)? Same story. Apparently my one good vein is covered in scar tissue due to the many, many blood draws that I have had in the past year. The needle goes in, but the scar tissue prevents blood from being accessible.
So, she tried other places, but I have really tiny veins. I must have been there for half an hour. Finally, she goes for my left hand and smacks it a few times (ouch!). At last, a vein pops up. But it's a hand vein and not an elbow vein, so it was slooooooow. She had to label the blood vials "special handling" so that the lab doesn't waste a single drop, since we didn't get as much as usual.
O.M.G. All I can say is, thank god I am doing donor egg, with a minimum of blood draws needed. IVF requires so many. From now on, I won't be able to donate blood, and any blood draws will need to come from my hand, which is way more of a pain than the crook of the elbow. My blood is slow and my veins suck, and it's just all really upsetting and reminds me of how much I have been through in the past year. Nobody tells you that your veins will be destroyed from IVF.
Sorry for so much complaining. I came home covered in bandaids and wraps on Friday, but the good news was that on my way home, the clinic in Atlanta called. I have a phone consult set up with the doctor on April 24th! I am very much looking forward to it- now I just need to spend the next 3 1/2 weeks gathering up all our medical records and writing down my questions. But, glad to be moving forward.
Monday, March 11, 2013
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Email Sent to NC Women's Birth & Wellness Center
Good afternoon,
I have been a patient at your center in the past, for well-woman care. A friend of mine recently became pregnant for the first time, through IVF (in vitro fertilization) and mentioned to me that your center no longer accepts women who conceived via IVF. I am curious to hear your reasons for this decision. As a center that says it promotes "dignity and respect", and "birth as a uniquely personal event", I am surprised to see IVF listed along with the other exclusionary criteria on your website. While I understand having disqualifying events that are actually medically based (such as prior surgery on the uterus, etc.), I don't see how a method of conception, in and of itself, fits with the rest of your list (from: http://www.
Can you clarify the reasoning behind this? Currently, with the way it's listed, it seems to be a rather insensitive way to exclude women who already have been through so much and been made to feel so marginalized and even defective by the mainstream medical establishment. I am curious to hear the Birth Center's thinking on publishing this on your website, and what your reasons for this new policy are.
Thanks for your time in answering my question!
Thursday, November 29, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Most Depressing Post Ever
This morning I found out that I am not pregnant.
I thought today couldn't get any worse, but suddenly, everything has.
I thought today couldn't get any worse, but suddenly, everything has.
We have been kicked out of the Attain program. We get $9000 back.
B has announced that he is done with medical intervention and the doctors, tests, treatments, and drugs. If we want to continue another round of IVF, we'll have to use our whole $9000 refund plus a lot more for a single cycle and drugs and ICSI, and then only have a 50/50 chance anyway. With the not so good outcomes of both of my cycles so far (low egg count, low fertilization even with ICSI, and nothing to freeze either time, never even made it to day 3 transfer, etc.), he says it's wiser to take the $9000 refund and put it towards adoption, which is a safer bet than another $10,000 plus on a 50/50 chance at best.
I think, logically, he is correct. But I am in shock. I had forgotten Attain could kick us out, and never really considered what it would mean.
I am not sure how someone processes these thoughts, so I have decided to do nothing for the time being. I just never considered how it would feel to Stop. Like, I will never, ever get "accidentally" pregnant when we stop "trying" because I am going back on the pill and never coming off of it, which is what my doctor recommends due to my endometriosis. So, this is it, perhaps.
Not sure there is anything that can be said, but I guess the adoption people coming to our Tuesday RESOLVE meeting could not have picked better timing when it comes to me.
Worst. Day. Ever.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Pregnancy Dreams
Over the past couple of weeks, I've been plagued by a series of scary, ominous pregnancy dreams. Sometimes they are dreams that I will never get pregnant, while last night I dreamed I was pregnant but couldn't go into labor fully. I don't sleep well when I have these dreams, and I don't know what they are trying to tell me. Probably nothing, just that it's always there, in my subconscious, the issues of pregnancy and infertility and my on-going treatment.
So far, I've had two shots of Lupron and I'm feeling fine. Last time, it took about a week to start feeling the effects.
We're leaving for Boston tomorrow morning, which will be a good distraction for the next three days. We come home Sunday night, and Monday at 7:30 am is my appointment. I've started to view it as the Day of Reckoning. Will I have another cyst? Will my cycle be cancelled? Will I need surgery or have to stay on the pill for another few months?
Or, to try to look on the positive side, will I go in and have a perfect ultrasound and bloodwork, and be told that I can go ahead and start the stimulants next Saturday night? Will I finally get to take that Menopur out of the package, and finally retrieve the Follistim from where it has rested in the tofu drawer of the fridge since this past February?
Wish me luck, and the next time I type here I hope to have encouraging news.
So far, I've had two shots of Lupron and I'm feeling fine. Last time, it took about a week to start feeling the effects.
We're leaving for Boston tomorrow morning, which will be a good distraction for the next three days. We come home Sunday night, and Monday at 7:30 am is my appointment. I've started to view it as the Day of Reckoning. Will I have another cyst? Will my cycle be cancelled? Will I need surgery or have to stay on the pill for another few months?
Or, to try to look on the positive side, will I go in and have a perfect ultrasound and bloodwork, and be told that I can go ahead and start the stimulants next Saturday night? Will I finally get to take that Menopur out of the package, and finally retrieve the Follistim from where it has rested in the tofu drawer of the fridge since this past February?
Wish me luck, and the next time I type here I hope to have encouraging news.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
We Are Everywhere
At the doctor's office on Friday (regular family doc) to get my stitches removed, the nurse noted which meds I am on, and noticed the Clomid. She asked about if I am pregnant, and I griped that no, I am not, and the Clomid sure isn't helping get my pregnant. She looked at me for awhile and then told me she'd tried for seven years. SEVEN years. She said she went to UNC also, and had IUIs, but never IVF. She wished me luck, and told me she thinks I will get pregnant (why??).
It was another reminder that although I feel surrounded by fertile people popping out babies at age 41 (my cousin, for one), there are plenty of sadder stories too. I'm not alone, though I feel like I am. The nurse who gave me my flu shot last fall and only ever had one baby after 2 1/2 years of trying, the nurse yesterday who had tried for seven years with no success. We are everywhere, and I hope that if I am a success story, I can figure out something to offer to other women and couples going through this horrible experience.
It was another reminder that although I feel surrounded by fertile people popping out babies at age 41 (my cousin, for one), there are plenty of sadder stories too. I'm not alone, though I feel like I am. The nurse who gave me my flu shot last fall and only ever had one baby after 2 1/2 years of trying, the nurse yesterday who had tried for seven years with no success. We are everywhere, and I hope that if I am a success story, I can figure out something to offer to other women and couples going through this horrible experience.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
First post: 9 long months of infertility
After nine long months of trying to get pregnant, I feel like I've had it. I've had it with being positive and trying to "have faith" and acting hopeful all the time. I've had it with taking my temperature and charting and going to endless vaginal ultrasounds at the god awful time of 7:30 am at the hospital. I've had it with peeing in a cup in public bathrooms, being the weird lurker who is sitting in the stall for 5 minutes (while waiting for my ovulation test's 5 minute reaction time) and I've had it with scrutinizing each pee strip to hope, hope, hope that this month I will have an earlier ovulation.
I'm not giving up. I'm still trying. I just have hit a brick wall with feeling good about my fertility and I'm realizing I need better coping methods. Expecting my friends to listen isn't working- they all have newborns. My mom just worries when I don't have good news or at least an upbeat manner. My dad is horrified and doesn't want to talk about it, probably because he feels terrible. And my husband.. well, he's as sad as I am, but he's... very male about this whole thing. He just doesn't really want to talk about it as much as I do. Also, he is a wonderful cheerful positive person who does have faith. And I get sick of being the cynical party pooper who is crying over her (lack of) cervical mucus yet again.
So, I've contacted my old marriage therapist (from back when we first got married and went for a few months as we eased into married life) to ask if I can meet with her about coping strategies. And since I've been obsessively reading others' fertility blogs, I thought I'd try my own and see if it gives me a nice, constructive way to vent. Right now I'm not comfortable sharing it with my friends or giving too many personal details (like, uh, my name) but we'll see how it goes. And of course, I am hoping that this month or the month after or the one after that, I will have good news.
The story up till now: I'm 31 years old, my husband is 36. We met 6 years ago, when we'd both moved to this cute little hippie college town in the South. We like to tell people we met in a parking lot, and it's actually true. I thought he was cute from the moment I met him, and I don't think that about many guys.
In any case, that stuff doesn't have too much bearing to my infertility problems, except to say that I am not the type of girl who pretended all her dolls were babies (actually, I didn't have dolls. my mom was more the scary-stuffed-animal type) or envisioned Mommy being her favorite name. But, my husband loves kids, and I love my cat beyond belief, and I have enough love that I think I'd be a good parent.
So, after 7 years of being on the Pill, my husband and I had decent jobs and had saved enough money to feel okay with trying to have a baby. We even finished our massive student loans. We own a beautiful house in our little hippie eco-village and we've left the upstairs room pretty undecorated... always waiting to be a nursery, I guess. So, quit the Pill on Christmas Eve, while in Peru on Our Last Big Vacation, and... nothing. No period for a very long time. Finally, it came... but then, again, 45+ days passed before another period. Okay, maybe it was just the Pill. I waited, waited, and meanwhile we were screwing like bunnies from day 14 onwards. I have never been so sick of sex in my life as during that time. We even got so sick of it that my husband would have to look at porn first, just so we could, um, get it sort of over with quickly. Oh gosh, that sounds terrible! Well, if you've tried and tried and tried, you'd understand. In fact, when I got a UTI, my doctor was like, "Um, yeah, you've been having a lot of sex!" Ha. Too much of a good thing is, I can attest, too much.
Anyway, after 5 months of being off the Pill and still having wacky periods, I went to the doctor, and was then referred to a reproductive endocrinologist. I first saw her in early July, two months ago. She agreed my cycle is not right, especially my lame 9 day luteal phase. So, we tried Clomid, and it shortened my cycle to 35 days, including a very nice 13 day luteal phase. But I didn't get pregnant.
Which brings me to today. I'm on my second round of Clomid, and went in for my ultrasound today, on day 18. My lining looks good, and my follicles are small but probably on track for another day 22 ovulation. Now, I wait again, pee in little cups in the public restroom at work and probably weird everyone out with my bathroom hovering, and then hopefully ovulate and with the grace of God and the luck of the universe, maybe, just maybe, after 9 long months, have a happy ending to the terrible waiting game that is my infertility.
Thanks for reading and wish me the best follicles a girl can grow. Good night.
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