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.

35.5 weeks

I haven't updated this blog in close to two months. It's not that I haven't had anything to say, I just haven't known how to frame it. It's especially hard when two of the women whose blogs I used to read on a regular basis had negatives/miscarriages from their last cycles. I feel immensely grateful and lucky to be experiencing pregnancy. It's funny- there's this whole pyramid of how bad it can be. There are the women who come crying to RESOLVE groups about how they can't stand the thought of doing an IUI. Then they get pregnant the first time, and I'm like, oh cry me a river. Sorry you didn't get pregnant from a romantic evening of wine and dining, but you GOT PREGNANT. With relatively little expensive and invasive procedures. And then the next step up- IVF. While IVF sucks, and is expensive (I should know about both of those- I did it three times), I can only imagine how amazing it would have been if that had worked for me. Not to even mention those for whom it works the first time, and they have frozen embryos for the future.  I know it's not easy for either of these groups of women, but it's definitely a bridge I crossed a long time ago.

The final frontier in assisted reproductive technologies often feels like donor egg, though when I really think about it, it can go much beyond- for example, using a surrogate. Or moving to adoption, by choice or by necessity. So while I still strongly believe that anyone who wants a child badly enough will find a way, provided they have a supportive partner and the financial means (neither of which is small potatoes), there are so many different roadblocks and challenges to overcome for some women and couples. I count myself as extremely unlucky to have needed donor egg at the ripe old age of 32 (I'm 33 now, but was 32 on the day of transfer- and had been trying to conceive since I was 30 years old), especially when I never actually received a conclusive answer for why three IVFs failed so horribly.  But when you're in the infertility world for awhile, you realize how unluckiness takes all shapes and forms and degrees. And then I look down at my belly and thank the universe and my donor that I am able to sustain this pregnancy, no matter how much it took to get here and the tears and draining of money and greying of hair that have resulted.

This journey is not over yet. I am 35.5 weeks pregnant but no baby is here yet. I find it very difficult to connect my stomach to the idea that one of these days, hopefully 4.5 weeks from now, a baby is going to be laid in my arms. He won't be my genetic material, but he was grown and nurtured by my uterus and my healthy food choices and my love and my sheer determination to bring him to this world. I think it will be utterly surreal. I have watched my friends from RESOLVE go through the transition to being mothers, and I can't quite translate my growing stomach to this eventual event. But I know it's coming. I feel my stomach roll and see it ripple and I remind myself it's not gas- it's a human being in there.

Still, life right now is totally surreal. My hormones have mellowed a lot from when I used to cry all the time (see my previous entry on my very emotional birthing class), but I still occasionally tear up when I walk by the room we've decorated for him, or when I think of being able to introduce him to my mom and dad, or when I look through the photos of this whole journey that I am collecting in a special folder on this laptop. My physical discomforts are very minor compared to many women, and I hope birth will be the same way, but ultimately, I just feel so grateful to be experiencing this. Oh, I get tired and cranky, and I worry about daycare and money and the actual process of giving birth, but mostly, I just still am in disbelief that I am going to be a real mom someday soon. I cannot wait to sit on the couch and do nothing but hold him, and thank my lucky stars that something finally worked.

I don't know if I will continue to update this blog. I guess I will put something on here when he has safely arrived, but mostly, I just go to work, come home and sack out on the couch, and count down the days to meeting him. My infertility journey is not over- I still have fertility jealousy when women seem to come by new babies so easily, and I get uncomfortable when people want to talk too much about my pregnancy, and I know that I'll have to endure clinics and ultrasounds and shots if we decide to do this again, even for a frozen embryo transfer. But mostly, I just hope and pray that anyone else struggling gets through this too, and that it was all worth it.

Signing off for awhile, then. Good night.

His room, in progress

Birthing Class Meltdown

So this past Saturday we went to part one of a two part "Prepared Birthing" class at the hospital in which I will give birth. I'd heard mixed reviews about this class, but we got lucky- the instructor is wonderful, and we learned a lot. B took careful notes, which was super cute. 

I, on the other hand, couldn't take any notes because I spent about 60% of class time crying.

I feel pretty well balanced most of the time, mentally and emotionally. But something about being in this class full of perfectly fertile people really pushed me over the edge. At the beginning, during introductions, we were supposed to say where we'd most want to be in the world, at 10 am on a cold Saturday. So of course everyone was like, "bed." And I just couldn't help but think, "HERE." I worked for 2.5 years to get pregnant so I want to be right here! I didn't say that. But later, we had to say what we wanted to get out of the class, and I didn't plan on saying anything much, but suddenly I found myself telling the whole group how hard it was to conceive and that I can't believe I am here in this class, and that I am finding this amazing yet hard to handle. In a good way. Anyway, the instructor was great and later told me she had trouble too... but everyone else didn't react at all, and I felt like a total doofus. Then I proceeded to bawl during every birthing video we watched, and half the time in between. 

I have no idea what set me off, because I'm okay most of the time. I have even gotten to the point where I can talk about my pregnancy without mentioning IVF (except clearly not in that class, where I had to TMI everyone). 

Anyway, I got through it, and I learned a lot, but I was definitely the emotional mess in the room. Then on Sunday, B's asshole dad told us the photo we sent him for his holiday card isn't good because I don't look pregnant enough. Fuck you. I'm 28 weeks pregnant and I'm sorry if I can't look pregnant enough for everyone else. This is just the way I look. So we re-took it today, with me wearing a tighter shirt, but I can't be what others want me to be. I'm fine and healthy, I'm just not 9 months pregnant with a perfect belly. I don't even want to be on any stupid card.

Okay, end of vent. I just am totally confusing poor B, who seems to want to put the trauma of infertility behind us, and I thought I did too, but then I lost it in the dumb birthing class. I hope I can calm down for next week's class, but I'll just try to sit in back in case I'm a weepy mess again. They are not sad tears, more like happy and disbelief, but I realize I probably look like I need therapy and not birthing classes (I don't think I need therapy- I'm fine most of the time, and excited for March). 

It's exhausting, being pregnant. But, I remember how it was not being pregnant, and fighting infertility was a million times worse. I think I can safely blame some of this on hormones, and the rest... is just me. Still infertile, now pregnant, and feeling not quite comfortable with either. 

For the Future

It's been a long time since I've written. I have been feeling fine, and nothing exciting to report. I'm 25 weeks today, and feeling more and more comfortable with this pregnancy. The baby has been kicking day and night, and I can't explain how much I love it. I LOVE it. But that's not what I want to talk about. I want to tell you about the project I'm working on.

For background: I spent the last couple of nights working on one of my Channukah gifts for my husband. It's a yearly tradition of mine to make a desk calendar for him, highlighting our travels and other fun times we captured in photos. This year, obviously, there are a few recent photos of my small but somewhat noticeable pregnancy belly. I'm still not showing much, at 25 weeks, though I have gained about 14 pounds and am in the normal range. Not sure where it's all gone, but should I be relieved that if I ever become a permanently very chubby woman, no one would notice that either? Ha.

Anyway, after making the calendar for my husband's gift, I realized I have all these photos of my (barely-there) tummy, and even more photos of all the ultrasounds we've had (five total, from weeks 7-20). So I just spent a bunch of time collating the photos from my email, my phone, and my iPad into one big folder.

What will I do with these? Well, they tell a story. There is a picture of my 5-day embryo we transferred, a grinning and crying photo of me holding my first ever positive pregnancy test, records of all of our ultrasounds, and the photos of me with my little tummy, slowly growing. I put them all in order, labeled by the number of weeks I was, and sometime before or after the baby comes, I'll make a photo book using Snapfish or some other service. Then, someday when he is ready, my child will have a record of how much we wanted him, how long the process was, how excited we were every step of the way once I became pregnant, and how very special his conception was.

I want to be very open with him about his donor conception, but in a way that makes him feel wanted, loved, and precious to us. Because that's what he will be, and already is. I know we will have hard times when he may scream that I'm not his real mom, as even genetic children probably do at some point. It will not all be perfect or wonderful, and we've taken a very non-traditional path to parenthood. But I hope this book I will create helps with him understanding how intentional our choosing this path was for us. I will present it as very matter-of-fact, as one more picture book amongst his collection of books. I think this will be a really good way to normalize his unique beginnings.

And if he doesn't care, then it will be a piece of history for me. It doesn't show the heartbreak and failures I endured before we had success, or the financial disaster that infertility was, or the frustration and anger I struggled with for two and a half years. But it shows that we are (I hope) on the way to a happy ending that can come after all the struggle.

It's A....

....BOY!

Which is what we thought it would be, from the sonographer's prediction at 13 weeks, but it was still really good to learn for sure. This makes it much more concrete that this is really, actually happening. My husband was so cute... he is fascinated by the ultrasounds and almost squeals every time the baby would move. As soon as we left and were in the hall, he had his phone out and was texting everyone he knows! His friends, his sisters, his study group from school, everyone! And of course many of them didn't even know I'm pregnant, so there were several confused texts back of "?????" in response to his "It's a boy!"  I had to remind him that we've been very cautious in sharing our news, so he needs to first tell people we're expecting! Anyway, it was cute.

More importantly than the sex, the baby is very active and healthy. Since we did IVF with ICSI, they did an echocardiogram of the heart. It looks fine. My friend's IVF baby was born with his urethra in the wrong place, so of course that risk remains (those are the two things that show up in slightly higher rates than non-IVF/ICSI babies: heart defects and urogenital abnormalities in baby boys). But hopefully all is well.

The sonographer also assured me that he is very active. I'd been getting concerned because I was 20 weeks at the ultrasound and had not felt any movement yet, which is a little on the late side. But just like I am not really showing yet, I guess I was late for that too. We saw the baby kicking and moving a ton, but I felt nothing. However, on Friday evening, I started to feel a strange bubbling in my lower abdomen. I thought maybe it was gas... but no. It has continued consistently now, and seems most noticeable after I eat, and when I am sitting quietly. It is definitely kicks. I have to say, I LOVE feeling this. Between the ultrasound and the kicks, I actually am starting to feel pregnant. Sometimes it has been hard for me to accept that I am pregnant after so many years of failures, so it's really amazing to me to actually be pregnant, and to start realizing I may really have a baby in my life in a few months....

Anyway, telling people has also helped me to feel like this is really happening. My mom has now told all her friends, and I did the dreaded Facebook reveal. I had been resisting for months, but as I talked about before, my husband really did want to tell his friends. He is five years older than me and most of his friends have one if not more children already. I consented, though we ended up posting very different things: he just announced it's a boy, whereas I felt an acknowledgement that it's not easy for everyone was necessary. So this is what I wrote: [my name] is thrilled to share that we're expecting a baby boy in early March. It's been a long, long journey to get here and we couldn't be happier or more excited.

And immediately, I started getting "likes" and congratulatory comments. Nearly half of my total friends on FB actually "liked" it, which I find shocking. I usually get like four likes for typical cat pics (I can't resist! she's so cute!) or shots of what I made for dinner (yes, I am that person- cat and food pics). So this is what I am wondering: do people just like babies, or did anyone read the second part about the long journey?

Oh well, who knows. I just hope I didn't hurt anyone or ruin their day, as so many pregnancy announcements had to me for all those years. Oh, I'm sure I did upset someone, but my wish is that the second line spoke hope to anyone who is still trying or is frustrated with their situation. My pregnancy is still so tied to my infertility that I can't separate the two, nor do I want to. I am grateful every day that this is where I am, and that I was financially and emotionally able to undertake this long and harrowing path. I hope to appreciate my child every day, in ways that I might not have if I hadn't seen a future where this would not have been possible. I am grateful to my donor and to my doctors and my husband every day.

For those still considering donor egg, I can't say enough good things about this decision I made. While I mourn the loss of a genetic child, and I had these slightly sad thoughts as we tried to see the baby's face during the ultrasound, and I think of my donor quite often, this was the best decision I could have made and I don't regret it for a fraction of a second. I thank the universe every day that I live in a time where this was possible.

Today I am 21 weeks and 1 day, and grateful.

Upcoming Anatomy Scan, and Musings on Facebook Announcements

Pregnancy has many things in common with infertility. One of the biggest is waiting. I am 19 weeks today, and my big anatomy scan ultrasound is one week from yesterday.

In general, my anxiety is much better. It's been three weeks since a midwife appointment, and six weeks since we last had an ultrasound. It's easy for me to forget that I am pregnant, since my first trimester exhaustion and mild nausea have been gone for so long and my spotting tapered off about week 14 (thank goodness!). I am still not showing (well, I look a bit chunky but who doesn't nowadays?). No one can tell except me and my husband- well, okay, my stepmom pointed out my, uh, increased breast size, but that's not really something I hope people at work are noticing! I have maternity clothes but I just don't need them. I wear my regular clothes, though I do need the belly band thing every day.

I have no real reasons to worry, but I create them. I spend a lot of time thinking I am not gaining enough weight. It was really disappointing to me last night when a neighbor told me my belly looked smaller. Also I was asked if I was in the right class at prenatal yoga two weeks ago. And women weeks behind me are popping out more than me. It's a little discouraging. I am on the small side, but by no means a shrimp. I am 5'4'' and my pre-pregnancy weight was around 130. Pretty average sized. I have gained only about 6 or 7 pounds, which seems a little on the low side, but maybe I will catch up. My donor is more petite, so I'm not expecting a huge baby, but come on! It's hard to feel pregnant when I look the same.

So, I worry about my weight, and I've had some pretty bad headaches lately, which isn't helping me to feel like eating. But I did something daring yesterday: I did a 40 minute home workout tape for pregnant ladies! I really haven't exercised except for yoga, and it felt amazingly good to squat and stretch and kick. Before the transfer in June, I used to go to the gym about three days a week: boot camp, body pump, and Zumba were all my ways to relieve stress and feel good. I used to go for hikes in the woods behind my house too, but lately I've been sick, and now it's been raining for a week straight, so that's been off the table too. But the workout video felt good! I am going to try to do it again soon.

My husband is also getting increasingly persistent in asking when we can put something public on Facebook. I know he is excited to be a dad, and it's cute, and he's a bit older than me so most of his friends already have kids and he wants to share his happy news with them. But this is something I spend a lot of time thinking about. While I was happy for friends always, pregnancy announcements and photos hurt me so much when I would stumble upon them on Facebook. If he wants to do this, I'd like to find some way to acknowledge it's not easy for everyone, and was a long road to success. As a message to those who are still on that hard path, and a reminder to the oblivious masses that procreation is not a guarantee. But I also don't want to be a TMI person on Facebook, as I am friends with plenty of work colleagues, relatives, even friends of my dad's. So I don't know. Has anyone seen particularly sensitive yet short postings on Facebook that touched them the right way?

18 weeks and no news is good news

I'm two days shy of hitting the 18 week mark, and I have to report, I have very little to report. My spotting stopped three or four weeks ago, thank goodness. I had very, very cautious sex and nothing happened, other than me getting bored, so a couple of weeks ago while on vacation, I gave in, shut my eyes, and made love the way normal people do (or at least, normal for a semi-cautious pregnant person who might also be considered a basket case). Then, I only checked my underwear every five minutes for the next two days, ha ha. But the spotting has stayed away, and I am so beyond grateful.

My weight was up about six pounds two weeks ago, and then I got a bad cold and I think I stopped eating. I drank a lot of tea but it was hard to breathe and eat at the same time. Anyway, I lost a few pounds and didn't realize it immediately. I am now back up to what my weight had been, but I feel very small. No one can even tell I am pregnant. Naked, I just look like I had a big meal. Sigh. I know it's not good to be pregnancy-belly greedy, but I think having a belly would make this feel more real. I go to prenatal yoga and feel like a faker. Oh well.

Nothing else much to report. I have pretty much no symptoms, which is something I'm grateful for. Other than exhaustion and then spotting and then anxiety, I really have had about the easiest pregnancy I've heard of. My next checkup is in two weeks, and the 20 week anatomy scan is two weeks from tomorrow.

My heart goes out to friends who are still trying to conceive, both real-life friends and those I've followed on the internet blogs for so long. I still feel more infertile than pregnant, though I suppose that shift will continue as this goes along. I miss my support group, though of course I'm glad to have graduated. I do often wonder if there's anything I can do to still support infertility awareness and funding. Things to think about in the future...

Becoming an (infertile) pregnant person

Depending on whether you follow my midwife's due date estimate or my own calculations, I am either 15 weeks today or I am 15 weeks on Friday. With only 10% of women giving birth on their due date, it's safe to assume I probably won't have a baby on March 5th, no matter which date I settle on.

I haven't written in awhile because I am teetering in this weird territory lately. My spotting has mostly stopped. I still spot maybe once every three days, but it's very pale pink and only when I pee. I have gone back to not needing a panty liner (yet still being afraid to wear my cute underwear, just in case!). When I spot, I descend into doubt and anxiety, but with the lessening of the spotting, those feelings are also starting to be more and more infrequent.

At the same time, I'm slowly accepting that I am indeed pregnant. I went to prenatal yoga on Thursday and Monday this week, with two different pregnant women. I have "naturally" pregnant friends too, but I still feel most safe with the women from my infertility support group, so I went the yoga classes with them. We still always come back to talking about our infertility. It seems to be something that has deeply affected us all. No one escapes unscathed. It's on our minds always, but coupled with that is the immense gratitude we seem to feel at having finally had something work. It feels safe and secure to be around women who also regard this as a miracle that needs recognition, not necessarily from the world, but from ourselves and each other. I do think of each of my formerly-infertile friends' pregnancies as something amazing and special, and something joyful that helps counteract all the unfairness I experienced for myself and for others when attending my monthly RESOLVE meetings for so long.

Other things that have moved me towards acceptance, and hopefully celebration, were having my mom come visit this weekend. She's not a crazy baby person- she only had me- but she is very excited and happy for us. We went to a consignment maternity store on Saturday and bought my first maternity clothes. I know other women often need them before this, but I haven't put on more than a few pounds. No one but me and my husband would really notice. The pants are more for the future. For now, I just stick to my looser skirts and dresses, but it's true that none of my work pants fit anymore. It will be good to have the new pants when the weather starts to cool off. We also bought this super cute tee shirt- it's of skeleton bones, and includes a little baby skeleton fetus! I don't know that I would ever dare to wear such a bold pronouncement of pregnancy, but it made us giggle.

I've also started to tell a few more people- neighbors whom I'm friendly with, mainly. I've noticed that I can't seem to tell someone I'm pregnant without saying that it took years of trying and medical interventions. I'm not sure if people think that's weird, but it's my story, and it's so tied up in my pregnancy that I still can't separate the two in my head. It's being true to myself and to those who also may have trouble. I don't want to live in a world where I'd contribute to the loneliness and despair that I often felt when hearing of others' pregnancies. The truth is that it's not easy for everyone, and it was only my perseverance, financial wiping out of our savings, and eventual good luck that got me to this place. People don't need to hear all that, but they can know that it's not simple for everyone, and that this is a big freakin' deal to me.

Anyway, it feels good to have neighbors' support (I live in a very close-knit community, where neighbors know a lot about each other's lives), and several of the older ladies I've told have almost cried when I told them, since they know a little about what we've gone through or how long we've been wanting this. This feels super nice. At the same time, I kind of can't quiet the voice in my head that imagines how very differently my life would be if that one pregnancy test had not come out positive. I'd still be depressed, yearning, worrying, making plans to head back to Atlanta for another cycle of drugs and shots and ultrasounds.

I haven't given in to the pregnancy bliss that I see when I look at my normally fertile friends, or my acquaintances who tell the world on Facebook as soon as they hit 12 weeks (or before!). I am not yet comfortable telling my coworkers, and I don't know if Facebook will ever be something I'm okay with. My pregnancy feels tenuous still, though I am working on acceptance and peace and security, and maybe even excitement. It's hard to move from infertile to pregnant, but I think I will learn to be more comfortable with being in both worlds.

Spotting

Why has my pregnancy become all about my spotting?

Because I'm pregnant, and pregnant ladies pee all the time (when was the last time I slept more than 2-3 hours uninterrupted for pee breaks? weeks ago), and apparently this lady right here has to see blood every time she pees. Okay, not every time. Like, 80% of the time. Which equals, oh, about 10 times a day.

It has even seeped into my dreams. Last night I slept fitfully, and woke up in a cold sweat. I'd had a nightmare that my constant anxiety led to the midwives "firing" me as a patient. Could that even happen? I've only called them a few times with my worries. And they have been so nice about it. But in my dream, they told me I was too high-maintenance and I'd have to see a regular ob-gyn.

Maybe some part of me wonders if the midwives are too laid back for me. Maybe an ob would order more tests, or say she sees this all the time, or do something else to put me at ease. I have no idea.

Meanwhile, this Friday I'll be 14 weeks, and most things I read say the spotting should have stopped with the first trimester, yet it's gone on now for almost three weeks. I have not had sex, exercised, or touched my cervix in any other way, other than the exam at the midwife's last Thursday. Do I just have the worst cervix in the world? Will it do it's job when labor comes? Am I not cut out for these kinds of worries for the next six months?

Sigh. I don't know. I lapse into daydreams about my future baby, and then I get up to pee and remind myself that I shouldn't get too confident. At work, my supervisor wants to discuss future planning, and thinks I am odd for not wanting anyone to know yet. She has rightly pointed out that I can't hide the obvious forever. But I've gained little enough weight that I *can* hide it for probably a good while longer, and it just makes me feel more comfortable. So we will see. I also feel bad for not wanting to celebrate and enjoy this pregnancy more. I think if I weren't spotting, I'd feel differently. And perhaps soon it will end. It's *very* light. No pantyliners needed, just a pale pink trace when I wipe after peeing, and sometimes some drops of pink/brown blood in the toilet. Nothing dire or scary, unlike how it started. It's just the longevity- almost three weeks- that continues to upset me.

I know this must seem stupid to those still trying to conceive that baby. I really do remember the grief, and though I feel I am tiptoeing around a possible loss, I know I am way further than I ever dreamed. And I know also this experience is not typical. 25% of women have spotting, which means that 75% of women do not. It's totally reasonable to take those pads and tampons and say goodbye to them for 9 months or more.

In other news... well, I have no other news. This is my busy time of the year at work, which takes my mind off myself, and I've been cooking and eating well in the evenings. I still won't allow myself to relax enough to exercise, but tomorrow I'm going to try prenatal yoga with a friend. Although yoga normally bores me, if it's gentle enough, and the only exercise that feels safe, then I think I will force myself to learn to love it. We will see.

I don't think there's anything to say about this, but my husband is growing tired of my anxiety (though he is trying to be good and comforting and is successful a lot of the time) and I just had to vent about it. Thanks for listening, anonymous blog world.

First trimester screen

Today was the big day- we got to see the most of the baby yet! More than any blurry image at the fertility's doctor's (though those were cool too), this time it really was like a real baby. It kicked it's little legs, it waved it's little arms. It was really cool, and the sonographer gave us a guided tour for about half an hour. We saw brain, heart, lungs, ribs, placenta, etc.

Still a baby. Not a kitten. 

Several pieces of good news: combined with the blood work I did two weeks ago, the results of this ultrasound place us a in a very low risk category for Down Syndrome and Trisomy 18/13. I told them about using a 23 year old donor egg, and that placed us in an even lower risk category.

The other good news is that the placenta appears to be in the right place. Of course they'll check again at 20 weeks, but with the bleeding I've been having, the midwife did mention the risk of placenta previa. The sonographer does not think that is the case. And the midwife did more strongly think it was my cervix. I bled a lot yesterday afternoon, which was actually kind of reassuring, since she'd touched my cervix, so that furthered the feeling it's just my overly sensitive cervix causing the spotting. In any case, I have not had ANY spotting in about 24 hours now, so I am extremely grateful for this too.

Okay, on to the not as good news. The sonographer thinks, with about 70% certainty, that I'm having a boy. It's hard to describe why I am not presenting this as good news. I guess- I just almost don't want to know. I thought I did, but somehow now I feel like a bit of the magic is gone. I know it's too early to know for sure, but I wish I had not asked. Oh well. I'll just try to put it out of mind for the next seven weeks. And if I still don't want to know then, I can always ask not to be told. I thought I'd want to know... but now, it feels so real. I want this baby so badly that sometimes I want to fast-forward through pregnancy and be holding the little one already. I need to work on slowing down and enjoying.

Maybe if the spotting stops, I can relax and try to enjoy. I think having an IVF pregnancy, after so many troubles, has kind of scared me. It's taken away any oblivious, carefree attitude that I might have had. Or maybe I would always have had worry. I just still struggle with a deep mistrust of my body and it's ability to do what comes naturally to so many others.

But. But. I am being a brat. Even my lab slip said "normal first pregnancy." I made it to 13 weeks. The risks of Down's are low. I think I would like to slowly ease back into exercising and enjoying. That's my goal for this next month: exercise, relax, eat well, and try to allow myself some excitement.

[Ok, this was a really boring update. Sorry. I'm just a hormonal mess today.]

Ups and Downs

Today I went to see my midwife. I just couldn't live with the anxiety anymore. I'd been spotting for 11 days, light spotting, but spotting nonetheless.

It was a very reassuring visit. First, she listened to the heartbeat. I cannot ever hear that whoosh-whoosh-whoosh without crying. I am still in such disbelief that it's really me, sitting in an ob/gyn office, not the infertility clinic. One interesting side note: I always had high blood pressure at the infertility doctor's. Sometimes, I wouldn't even let them take it, because it would just stress me out. But the last two visits at my midwife's have been 128/80, and today, a perfect 119/80.

Anyway, the heartbeat was fine, and then she did a quick pelvic exam. She said my cervix looks "very pregnant" (huh?) and that her strong feeling is that it's my cervix bleeding, not anything in the uterus. She dabbed away a lot of blood- all brown- and told me it's going to be okay. For some reason, my cervix is very sensitive and irritated. She said this will likely stop soon.

Tomorrow is my big hospital ultrasound, for the nuchal translucency screening (and also marks 13 weeks). Even though our donor was only 23 years old, I want the extra reassurance. I also want to see the baby again! I am really looking forward to this.

So, I guess I can relax again. I'm not sure if I will ever fully relax until the bleeding stops, but I will try. She said most women really feel better at around 20 weeks, when you can start to feel the baby move on a regular basis. I cannot wait.

My body hates me

Just when I was starting to relax...

Today, I started spotting again. Not as much as last time, but bright red, fresh blood again.

We just heard the heartbeat two days ago, and one friend reports she spotted twice a week till week 13 (I'm not quite at week 12). So, I am not freaking out.

But I am really disappointed in my body. As if infertility and failing 8 Clomid cycles and 3 IVFs wasn't enough, now I can't even have a smooth first trimester. My body has to taunt me with days of doing fine, and then bleeding again. It's so unfair. How am I supposed to trust my body or any of that other crap the birthing books all spout? Most women get pregnant, stay pregnant, and figure all will be well. I get my hopes up, then spend Saturday night in horrible fear, then relax again when it stops, and now today have to keep seeing red again.

I am not panicking, but I am just really frustrated.

In the good news category, it's been five days now that I have not needed a nap. Just one week ago, I would have found that impossible to believe. I was in such a fog for about eight weeks, where I felt brain dead after about 1 pm. It is nice to feel smarter and more alert lately.

Anyway, I should go distract myself with a book or something. I just had to vent for a minute.

One Giant Sigh of Relief

Today was our first midwife appointment. I am 11 weeks, 3 days along. It is wonderful. I never, ever thought I'd be attending an OB visit. In my darkest hours, which were many, I imagined I would never be pregnant. I feel lucky beyond belief. And proud, that I kept plugging away, trying option after option. My bank account might be sad, but I am not (most of the time, anyway. I still have my share of anxiety and worries about everything, including being a mother).

Anyway, back to the appointment. The midwife assured us that nothing is wrong. I had no bleeding today, none yesterday, and feel totally fine. We heard the heartbeat and it's thumping away in there, healthy and strong.

The midwife did a quick exam, of my breasts and lungs and heart, and I guess she checked my uterus or something? I barely felt it, though she reported that I don't have a narrow pelvis or something. Huh? Well, whatever. Then we did my blood work, including testing for the first trimester screening (Down's, etc.). I scheduled the NT test/ultrasound for a week from this Friday, when I will be 13 weeks exactly. I am not too worried about it since my baby mama is 23 years old (or at least her eggs were- and will remain so, frozen for me). But I want the extra reassurance anyway.

I am very happy with the midwife practice so far. She didn't bat an eye about my repeated IVFs, and in fact, didn't ask one question about my having used a donor. In fact, it was totally irrelevant- I didn't even NEED to have mentioned it. Since I am under 35, prenatal testing is the same anyway, so it just didn't seem to matter. That was nice, not that I really care since I am okay with having used a donor. But today felt really like MY pregnancy and MY baby and that was nice.

The only thing different about an IVF pregnancy, the midwife told me, is that they'll do an EKG of the baby's heart, I think at the 20 week anatomy scan. That is because IVF babies have a slightly elevated risk of heart defects, so they just like to check.

So, I hope the scary spotting is behind me, though I think sex is going to be off the table for a little while. For now, I am just so relieved that the baby is still here, and that things are moving along okay.

11 week update: graduation, and thoughts on starting a new RESOLVE group

Yesterday was our last appointment at the fertility center. Yup, it's official: I have been released! I have graduated! Also, as of this morning, I am no longer on any medications (other than continuing the baby aspirin and my prenatals).

It's not a kitten, folks. My husband asked the nurse, just to be sure. 

It's a strange, scary feeling. And also kind of anticlimactic. Since my first positive beta, nine weeks ago, I've never even gotten a call from my doctor down in Atlanta. He did the transfer, was really nice, but it's been nurses since then. Not even the same nurse. Oh, well. I got what I wanted.

As for telling people, we're still being cautious. This is on account of three things: first, I'd like to get through 12 weeks and also the Down's screening. We're not too worried about it since we used a 23 year old donor, but you never know. We would terminate if there are any serious problems, as traumatic as that would be. I pray we never would need to make those kinds of decisions.

Second, I have a job interview! It's not an ideal job and I probably will not get it, but I don't want to totally ruin my chances if someone were to post something dumb on Facebook (I did change my wall settings today, so B's mom can't blab anything, she's kind of a Facebook stalker in general).

And third, I want to be really sensitive in how and whom we share the news with. Pregnancy announcements were always so hard for me, as I've written about before. I don't know that we will say anything on Facebook at all, but even when sharing with colleagues and friends, I haven't decided how much info is TMI and how much is being aware and open that it's not easy for everyone. These are all things to consider in a few more weeks.

This week was the first RESOLVE meeting that I didn't attend and I'd say that felt weird, except I believe I slept through most of that time anyway. I am still having such exhaustion. I guess since I dealt with infertility for so long, none of my friends warned me what being pregnant would really be like. I am SO tired, and never feel well-rested, and must nap every afternoon or I feel like the flu times ten. I also struggle with nausea most evenings, but thankfully not usually in the daytime when I am at work. I don't really mind any of it too much though, because this is what I wanted.

Back to the RESOLVE thing- a friend from the group and I, both pregnant, have talked about starting a Pregnancy and/or Parenting after Infertility group. I checked out our local library and it has a good meeting space that we can reserve once a month. But, for some reason I have been dragging my feet about actually starting the group. I guess I am not sure exactly what role it would have in my life or other's. I definitely had some anxiety in the first few weeks of pregnancy, and I still get nervous before ultrasounds, but I'm wondering what specific needs a group like this would fill. Has anyone else heard about these groups? There are some, scattered around, mainly in larger cities. Anyway, something to consider a bit more.

My next doctor's appointment will be with the midwives, on Monday morning. I need to gather my donor's info and my own medical records to bring with me. I hope the midwife is understanding and supportive about our history.

A Phone Call with the Midwives

Since I will be released from my fertility center in one week if all continues to go well, my nurse had suggested I contact a provider who will be taking over my care. So this morning was my initial phone conversation/intake call with the midwives that I will use for my prenatal care. 

I was a little nervous about this choice. My original intention, years ago when I thought I'd be pregnant in no time, was to have a baby at the birthing center in town. It's a free-standing birthing center, staffed only by midwives, with no epidurals or other drugs or interventions offered, and a homelike atmosphere with birthing tubs, etc. I even went on the little tour and info session, 2 1/2 years ago when I thought we'd soon be pregnant after a few months of trying.

Well, ha. That didn't happen, and the birthing center now does not accept IVF patients. I've written about this before so I won't get into it again, but it's pretty fucked up in my opinion. Anyway, it's not an option and I'm not choosing to dwell on it. 

The next best thing seems to be the midwives who work in the same practice with an OB, and deliver at my local hospital. And actually, now that I have been through surgery and four IVFs, I actually think I want more options, more monitoring, perhaps drugs at delivery if I feel I need them. I've just been through so much, and I think I will appreciate a bit of increased testing and monitoring and the options of interventions. Of course, what do I know, this early in the game. I still don't even feel pregnant, just damn tired.

Anyway, this morning was my initial phone intake consult with the nurse who works with the midwives and OBs. I was a bit apprehensive, since it's true that my medical history is a bit more complex than most women's might be. But I was happily surprised! The nurse didn't bat an eye when I told her it's an IVF pregnancy and that I'd had four IVF procedures. She asked for my transfer date instead of my LMP (yes! she understands that the LMP question provokes some anxiety in me!) and was also nonchalant when I disclosed that we had used a donor so my own medical history is irrelevant in some ways- but I have all of the genetic testing for my donor and can bring that to my first appointment. She didn't ask me any more about that, but just treated it as normal, acceptable part of my medical history.  She also took a moment at the end to give me her own words of wisdom- she said a good friend had IVF and wishes someone had warned her that pregnancy care will seem really relaxed and laid-back compared to the personal, intensive monitoring done for IVF patients, and not to worry about this because most pregnancies are healthy and this is to be expected.

Whew. To have someone treat me just like any other pregnant woman, yet be understanding and graceful about all I have been through, was like a mini-healing session by itself. Sometimes it's still unbelievable that I am actually pregnant, as opposed to just tired or depressed (all the sleeping) or fat (all the eating!). But this call made my feel very normal, and that was such a gift. 

Weaning Begins...

Guess what? Amazing news: I am being weaned off my drugs!

I got the call late yesterday from one of my doctor's nurses. I am now dropping to two patches of estrogen instead of four, and one progesterone applicator a day instead of two.

Of course I am nervous as hell, because these medications are what has been feeding and supporting my pregnancy. But I guess my placenta must be starting to take over. We saw the yolk sack and the umbilical cord at yesterday's ultrasound- not sure if those things are related or what, but seems like it might be?

So, last night when my alarm went off at 8 pm, I just shut it off and continued reading my book. Totally weird.

I am really scared and really excited and, as usual, really tired  :)

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.

Heartbeat!

Yesterday was a big day. We saw the heartbeat!

Look! A vague tiny blob!

Okay, now that I've done the obligatory "wow!", I can tell the truth. Because this is my blog and I can whine if I want to.

The actual heartbeat appointment was very, very anticlimactic.

I feel guilty even writing that, because I know I should be grateful beyond belief to have a growing little embryo, and believe me, I thank my lucky stars each and every day. I thank the universe that after all my failures, luck finally shone down upon me. I tam thankful that I had the money to pay the ridiculous costs involved in this (buh bye, the better part of our savings from four years of marriage), the perseverance to keep moving forward, and the support from my husband to do donor egg.

BUT all that being said, I had a shitty visit to the clinic yesterday. I was so nervous that my knees were knocking when I got onto the table, and they made me wait a long time. Then the nurse practitioner came in, followed by a woman I'd never set eyes upon before. She apparently was an ob/gyn fellow, and had never given a transvaginal ultrasound before. Lovely. She messed with the wand a lot (ouch...) and had trouble using the controls. She showed me the heartbeat, at which point I burst out into relieved tears, but then she commented in an off-hand matter how "next week we expect it should speed up." Ummmm??? Are you saying it's not fast enough now??? I never did get a straight answer, except she also told me the measurements lead her to think I am a day behind (though she also said that doesn't matter, this early in the game).

In fact, she was having such trouble with the machine that the appointment quickly became all about her, and nothing to do with me and my husband. In fact, she even asked B to turn off the video camera, because maybe then she'd be better able to find the heartbeat again (uhhh, are doctors supposed to get performance anxiety still???).

There wasn't much more to it. They said "congrats" and told me they'd probably see me back in about a week. At which point I felt about to cry. I was under the impression that it was one ultrasound and then I'd be released.

Later, my friends reassured me that two or three are normal. I guess I was really jumping the gun, thinking this was my last visit to the clinic. Thinking I'd not be "high risk pregnancy with a history of infertility" for much longer.

The heartbeat checkup, therefore, was very anticlimactic. The little flickering light was cool, but it was sadly overshadowed by the doctor's incompetence, her offhand worrisome remarks, and my growing anxiety as the appointment went on. By the end, I had convinced myself there was something wrong.

Of course, nothing is wrong. My doctor in Atlanta told me the scan is excellent, and I'm right where I should be. I go back in two weeks for another one, then a final one at 10 weeks, and only then am I released. Another friend confirmed she had FOUR scans before being released, so I can relax now and the gratitude is seeping back in.

All of this is just so very hard. You think a positive pregnancy test is the end, but it's not. My friend who got pregnant the old fashioned way has a first doctor's appointment at 10 weeks. By ten weeks I will have had three beta blood tests and three early ultrasounds. I will have survived being "high risk" and I will have poured thousands of dollars of progesterone and estrogen into my body. But, I will have a baby. I need to calm down, breathe, and try to enjoy this period of my life. Somehow.

Pregnant but still infertile

I haven't been writing much because I have not had a whole lot to say. Mostly, being pregnant is a happy experience, but there's not a lot more to say. I'm done with my betas, my first ultrasound is not for a few more days, and I've had a few days of nausea but nothing serious. Honestly, the most significant part of being pregnant is just remembering that moment when we saw the positive test, and feeling the tears that still come to my eyes.

However, there are some moments that jump into my face and make me remember that hello, I am pregnant. And hello, I am not a normal carefree pregnant lady. Here are a couple of examples:

1. Medications. I am still using progesterone twice a day, and switching my four estrogen patches every three days. I still take my baby aspirin each morning. I am exhausted all the time. I don't know if that's normal first trimester tiredness, or if it's the mega dose of progesterone and estrogen that I am giving myself morning and night. In any case, it ain't cheap. BUT I had a small moment of victory when my insurance actually sent me this:

Yes, this is more expensive than gold.

For those of you who have not spent a fair amount of your life savings on infertility treatment and medications, these four boxes represent only a 30 day supply (and I've been on this stuff for 4.5 weeks already, and will remain on it for 3.5 weeks more). And are you sitting down? This one month supply costs $900. Yes, NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS. Till now, I have been paying for it out of pocket, but after many phone calls to my hated insurance company's pharmacy, they are now covering it with a $60 co-pay. Since pregnancy is covered, they have to. But they certainly dragged their feet, making me shell out several hundred dollars more while I waited. Anyway, it felt like a huge victory when they finally sent this to me. I actually have two refills that I hope I won't need, and I plan to fill those suckers and either keep them for my future self or share them with women in my support group who don't have insurance coverage for fertility either. But overall, the point is, it sucks that this medication costs so much, and that insurance doesn't have to cover infertility. You can have any number of self-caused medical conditions that insurance pays thousands of dollars for, but infertility? Nope. WHY? It makes no sense, and is so deeply unfair and unjust.

2. A good friend of mine (normal friend, not infertility group friend) just found out today that she is pregnant. I am absolutely thrilled for her- she'd been trying for a few months with no luck, and was beginning to worry. But I was shocked that she is just 5 weeks pregnant and wants to go to pregnancy yoga classes, and has already told a ton of neighbors, and is so carefree and gleeful. I mean, I guess that is normal? But coming from an infertility perspective, pregnancy is joyful, but it's NOT a sure thing. I have known too many women with miscarriages and complications to just tell the world and not even consider the first trimester a time for caution. What must it feel like to have such a trusting, carefree attitude towards your body? Not to have to pump it full of chemicals, not have three betas and an ultrasound all before 7 weeks? They don't even want to see her till she hits 10 weeks, assuming that she is all fine and no care is needed. It all sounds so foreign to me. All I can hope is that infertility will make me value my pregnancy and child more than I would ordinarily? Is that even a reasonable thought? Don't most mothers love their children, and can you really rank such a thing? I don't think so, and this is probably a topic for a longer, more thoughtful blog post. But anyway, it's hard to see her unabashed celebrations, and remember that I am still "high risk" and still being monitored closely and still taking tons of medications just to keep myself pregnant.

To sum this up, I'm not saying pregnancy after infertility had been particularly hard or traumatic for me. It's just that I notice these things more and think about them quite often. It's hard to realize how precious a thread an IVF pregnancy hangs on, and though I have no reason to worry, it's hard not to with all the appointments and blood tests and the early ultrasound. I hope I can gradually feel more like a normal pregnant person, and that being pregnant the same time as my friend is a happy experience, and not overwhelming in its contrasts. Someday, if all goes well, I'll have a baby, and that's what really matters, not how hard it was to get him or her here with us.

My Last RESOLVE Meeting?

Of course nothing is definite, but last night might have been my last RESOLVE meeting.

I joined the group a year and a half ago, after struggling with trying to conceive for a year. When the facilitator left after a failed IVF and a desire to stop trying, another member and I took over as coordinators. I did the official training, and we set up an email account to answer new member inquiries. Since the group was pretty small, just about four or five regulars, we put up fliers at several of the local fertility clinics.

I'm happy to report that the group has really grown- last night we had about 16 attendees. About five men were included. The group was about 2/3 regulars and 1/3 first timers. It's a nice mix of women about to start IVF, a few who have tried IVF and aren't sure what to do next, and some real newbies.

This group has been the single most helpful thing in my infertility life over the past year and a half. I know not everyone feels this way (some people find it discouraging that others graduate and we remain), but for me, it's been essential. I tried therapy and came home feeling depressed each time. Focusing on myself and my problems just wasn't for me. But when I went to RESOLVE meetings, I was comforted by women who really understood me and were in the same place. It was helpful to see others struggling, and others succeeding at times. Although it was hard when almost everyone I started with eventually became pregnant and moved on, it just further solidified my drive to keep trying, and to explore new options like donor egg.

Also, it has been a fab source of information and of free and half price meds  :)

I have especially enjoyed the friendships I've made through the group. I'm still close with four of the women that were in the original group (one has a new baby, two are pregnant, one is not sure what to do next but starting to explore embryo adoption) and one woman I met more recently (also pregnant, only four weeks ahead of me). These close friendships are the best part of RESOLVE- it brought us together and gave us a way to meet and something huge we have in common.

RESOLVE has a suggestion that you attend once to let the group know you are pregnant (in a kind, sensitive  way- or at least I did my best) and then stop attending. One women last night questioned why- she said can't a woman be a symbol of encouragement to the others, if she keeps coming? Well.... yes, I understand that, but I also recognize that the group should be a safe space for those in the midst of the struggle. It should be a safe space away from pregnant women. I do feel like I'm in a different category- I have struggled and fought SO MUCH to have this baby- but I am still pregnant. The group has to be a space where women don't need to be around pregnant women, and can complain or vent as needed.

What complicates this is that I am the facilitator. It's not hard- as I said before, I did a one hour web training by RESOLVE, and I monitor the email account. I send out reminders of the meetings, and I loosely moderate the meetings (mainly just introduce myself and get us started). I want the group to continue, so last night I asked for volunteers to take over. Two women are interested in co-facilitating, so it looks like that might work out.

It's going to be hard not to have this group in my life. I know I am leaving for the best possible reason- pregnancy- but I am mourning this loss a little bit too. I met so many wonderful women and made these friendships that literally saved me from isolation and giving up. I still have these friends and expect to continue to email and see them regularly, but it's weird to have crossed to the other side so suddenly. I found so much fulfillment from the group and helping it thrive. Last night I brought cookies and leftover meds and everyone seemed genuinely happy for me, but already I found it hard to listen, to feel again the pain and yearning that I was immersed in for so many years and that isn't gone, but certainly isn't an open wound to me anymore. It is hard.

Of course I am not even six weeks along, so the future is uncertain. But it seems like the right time to say goodbye to the group, as bittersweet as that is.