Tomorrow is the last day of 2011 and I have to say, it has been one of my worst years on record. This year has been boring, stagnant and all-around crappy.
Obviously, I am very grateful for the many things that I do have, and I am just coming off of a wonderful Christmas with my family. But the overall "life trajectory" of 2011 was pretty lame.
This year was difficult financially pretty much every month. Even though I made more money on paper than ever before, we had a hard time making the bills time after time. Work has been somewhat slow at C's job and I am sure that didn't help. I also had several tutoring gigs that used to really help that have since dried up.
Over the summer, I taught summer school which was actually quite miserable. I had the kids for long chunks of time teaching core subjects. This experience made me realize how important it is to me to teach science part of the day during the regular school year. C and I also had grand plans for the roughly $2000 that I was supposed to bring home from the job and none of it panned out. When I left summer school in the afternoons, and for the rest of the summer when the session completed, I basically hung out at home. The summer basically consisted of naps, cleaning and watching TV because we couldn't afford to do anything else.
This school year has started off as the absolute best academically and professionally, but there have been some social and interpersonal pitfalls that have really overshadowed the successes. All of these situations so far have been frustratingly out of my control. And the end of last school year was definitely one for the record books under the category "suck." There was cattiness among the staff and I was hauled into the office twice for stupid crap that is only now disappearing from my evaluation.
And, as a result of my Irish Catholic background, I feel like a guilty shithead for complaining. In reality, it's a good thing because it causes me to reflect everyday on how fortunate I am, but it sure makes wallowing in your own misery no fun at all.
No matter what happens -- baby or not, pay raise or not, vacation or not -- my life is pretty awesome. I am married to my soulmate of almost 12 years and we are ridiculously happy 98% of the time. Even our fights are pretty happy. I have the two best dogs and best cats ever and they bring me joy every day. My family is the best in the world - absolutely hands down. We live in an adorable little old house in the best town on Earth outside the world's greatest city. Despite our perceived money problems, we always make it work and we get to live an amazing life. Maybe it's not as exciting as most of the people around me, but I am grateful for every minute.
I also can't really complain about my job, though, believe me, I am surrounded by people who do little else. I am in a somewhat unique position at my school of having worked in several locations before ending up there. Let me tell you, it is the best gig so far. Many of my coworkers don't realize what other jobs are like out there. Every day, I wake up and go to a job that I love. That's why I stay. The vast majority of my coworkers are awesome and I can honestly say that I am friendly with almost every one of them. I am well-liked by both faculty and students and I feel like this year has been a breakout year for me professionally. Over the past three years, I have lovingly crafted the science curriculum and I get to teach it every day, and it has only grown and gotten better over the years. And, most importantly, the kids are awesome. Even when they are being ornery, they are stinkin' cute little mini-teens.
I am already working on making 2012 a better year for us in every way possible. I have worked hard to make IVF possible in 2012 if we need it. I have also changed my routine and my life in little ways to make it healthier. I have joined a local gym, restarted my Zumba classes and am trying to start cooking at home more. I am also starting a five-year journal because I can just feel it in my heart that the next five years are going to be worth writing about.
If 2011 was the worst year of my life, then I am doing pretty well because it wasn't all that bad. I have been thinking a lot about a quote lately from an interview I heard with film director Kevin Smith, so I'll end this entry (and this year) with it:
"It's almost stupid how good this life is."
By hook or by crook, 2012 is going to be better. So here's to hoping the world doesn't end... :-)
How many chicks do you know that have been to a scrapbooking convention and a tattoo convention in the same weekend? How many historians do you know that teach middle school science? I am a middle school teacher, metalhead and infertile wife just stuck here in the middle.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
The Home Stretch (or Not...)
Today was the one-week-post-IUI ultrasound, the purpose of which I still do not fully understand.
After quite an adventure, I rolled into an empty office over 20 minutes late. I arrived in the neighborhood of the RE's office on time only to find that the street had been blocked off by police cars for an apparent power outage. The officer would not let me walk onto the street, much less drive. I parked nearby and began a 20 minute process of trying to call someone, anyone, involved with Penn Medicine.
On any day, it is difficult to get a hold of someone on the phones, but a power outage only intensified the frustration. First, I was able to speak to a receptionist at their call center and she had no idea about any power outage, but she was unable to contact the office for me. Finally, I got a hold of someone actually associated with the RE's office. At that point, they had no idea about the street being blocked and had experienced nothing more than a few flickers, not a full-blown power outage. At this point, I was already 20 minutes late, but they allowed me to come in for the ultrasound.
They did all their typical measurements and found a cyst in the right ovary. Crap. If this cycle doesn't work, which, let's be real, is almost a given, this cyst could elevate my hormone levels at my baseline for cycle #9 and force another break cycle, further delaying the next cycle.
Like I have said before, I am basically just going through the motions with this study so that we can move on knowing that we tried absolutely everything possible for IUI. I am not hopeful that this cycle or the next will work, but I would like to finish the study so we can move on and consider more options.
This is the home stretch of the cycle - the last week of IUI #8, then just one more for the study. I hope another forced break from this cyst will not delay the home stretch even more...
After quite an adventure, I rolled into an empty office over 20 minutes late. I arrived in the neighborhood of the RE's office on time only to find that the street had been blocked off by police cars for an apparent power outage. The officer would not let me walk onto the street, much less drive. I parked nearby and began a 20 minute process of trying to call someone, anyone, involved with Penn Medicine.
On any day, it is difficult to get a hold of someone on the phones, but a power outage only intensified the frustration. First, I was able to speak to a receptionist at their call center and she had no idea about any power outage, but she was unable to contact the office for me. Finally, I got a hold of someone actually associated with the RE's office. At that point, they had no idea about the street being blocked and had experienced nothing more than a few flickers, not a full-blown power outage. At this point, I was already 20 minutes late, but they allowed me to come in for the ultrasound.
They did all their typical measurements and found a cyst in the right ovary. Crap. If this cycle doesn't work, which, let's be real, is almost a given, this cyst could elevate my hormone levels at my baseline for cycle #9 and force another break cycle, further delaying the next cycle.
Like I have said before, I am basically just going through the motions with this study so that we can move on knowing that we tried absolutely everything possible for IUI. I am not hopeful that this cycle or the next will work, but I would like to finish the study so we can move on and consider more options.
This is the home stretch of the cycle - the last week of IUI #8, then just one more for the study. I hope another forced break from this cyst will not delay the home stretch even more...
Monday, December 19, 2011
Triggered!
This is probably the least involved I have ever been in a cycle, but it's kind of refreshing. I went in for a baseline last week very casually and pretty much never thought about cycling or the study all week other than the moment I acutally put the pills in my mouth. It's actually been rather nice to be progressing through a cycle without all of the stress and obsessive thinking that goes along with it.
This weekend has been so jam-packed with parties, weddings, and other events, that my CD10 ultrasound was just one thing on a list of many things that I had to do yesterday. Much to my surprise, I had two follicles, one in the right measuring 14 and one in the left that was barely over 10. I was also instructed to trigger last night on CD10, which is virtually unheard of for me. In the past, I have typically triggered on CD13-15.
Either way, I had to go to an afternoon wedding yesterday in Newark, DE. Luckily, my official trigger assistant would be at the wedding with me because I had no idea when the wedding was planned to wrap up. Even though I brought the meds with me, we were home well before I had to trigger at 9pm.
The IUI is scheduled for tomorrow morning and I am off all this week for Winter Break, so I am looking forward to a worry-free IUI.
This weekend has been so jam-packed with parties, weddings, and other events, that my CD10 ultrasound was just one thing on a list of many things that I had to do yesterday. Much to my surprise, I had two follicles, one in the right measuring 14 and one in the left that was barely over 10. I was also instructed to trigger last night on CD10, which is virtually unheard of for me. In the past, I have typically triggered on CD13-15.
Either way, I had to go to an afternoon wedding yesterday in Newark, DE. Luckily, my official trigger assistant would be at the wedding with me because I had no idea when the wedding was planned to wrap up. Even though I brought the meds with me, we were home well before I had to trigger at 9pm.
The IUI is scheduled for tomorrow morning and I am off all this week for Winter Break, so I am looking forward to a worry-free IUI.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Crazy Eights?
So it begins again with IUI #8...
I started a new cycle last Friday, so I went in on Sunday for a baseline ultrasound and bloodwork. Everything came back normal, so I started popping mystery pills on Sunday night. I am scheduled to go in for another ultrasound on next Sunday morning which, I realized later, is the day of an afternoon wedding we have to attend in Newark, DE. I guess I am going to be running around like a lunatic that day!
At this point, I think I have been through enough picture-perfect cycles to know that it is no promise of a BFP. No matter what these follicles look like, I am not at all optimistic for the next two cycles in the study. I feel at this point I am just fulfilling my obligation to the study and using all possible methods of inexpensive treatment before having to take the leap into IVF.
It was somewhat of a relief to see that many clinics in the area were charging significantly less for cycles of IVF than the original ones that I had researched. The problem, however, is logistical. The less expensive clinics are in NJ and NY. I am totally willing to travel the distance, and I even have some friends who would put me up for a day or two of bedrest if necessary. It would even save money to get hotel rooms over paying the rates of some of the fertility clinics around here. The main problem will be scheduling.
I know this sounds ridiculous, but I am having an internal debate about when I would rather miss time - for the IVF treatments themselves or for maternity leave. To say that this is putting the cart before the horse is the understatement of the century. Believe me, I should have realized a long time ago that a planned pregnancy is never going to happen for us. But when the time of conception is scheduled down to the minute on an IVF calendar, it gets you wondering...
Would I rather do IVF treatments rather leisurely over the summer, never having to worry about work schedules or finding coverage? Or would I rather be due during the summer so that I can maximize my time at home with an infant, as well as my paychecks? As ridiculous as this sounds, money is a serious concern in all of this and anything I can do to prevent disability payments and medical leave is a priority.
More than likely, it seems the best plan would be to do IVF during July and August, possibly September. That would give me more flexibility in terms of going long distances to RE appointments, but it would also make our due date in April, May or June. That's assuming, of course, that IVF will be successful for us.
Further compounding the problem, our HR office sent out an email (finally...) about FSA accounts. I had thought that this would be a good strategy for us, not only to save on taxes, but also as a method of saving for IVF. What I did not realize, however, was that the paperwork was due back to HR less than 24 hours later. I missed the deadline without even knowing it.
So back to square one. Here we are: the third cycle out of four in the research study with no success and no answers. I will be doing these last two cycles of IUI in the research study, but then I will really need to start thinking about what happens next.
I started a new cycle last Friday, so I went in on Sunday for a baseline ultrasound and bloodwork. Everything came back normal, so I started popping mystery pills on Sunday night. I am scheduled to go in for another ultrasound on next Sunday morning which, I realized later, is the day of an afternoon wedding we have to attend in Newark, DE. I guess I am going to be running around like a lunatic that day!
At this point, I think I have been through enough picture-perfect cycles to know that it is no promise of a BFP. No matter what these follicles look like, I am not at all optimistic for the next two cycles in the study. I feel at this point I am just fulfilling my obligation to the study and using all possible methods of inexpensive treatment before having to take the leap into IVF.
It was somewhat of a relief to see that many clinics in the area were charging significantly less for cycles of IVF than the original ones that I had researched. The problem, however, is logistical. The less expensive clinics are in NJ and NY. I am totally willing to travel the distance, and I even have some friends who would put me up for a day or two of bedrest if necessary. It would even save money to get hotel rooms over paying the rates of some of the fertility clinics around here. The main problem will be scheduling.
I know this sounds ridiculous, but I am having an internal debate about when I would rather miss time - for the IVF treatments themselves or for maternity leave. To say that this is putting the cart before the horse is the understatement of the century. Believe me, I should have realized a long time ago that a planned pregnancy is never going to happen for us. But when the time of conception is scheduled down to the minute on an IVF calendar, it gets you wondering...
Would I rather do IVF treatments rather leisurely over the summer, never having to worry about work schedules or finding coverage? Or would I rather be due during the summer so that I can maximize my time at home with an infant, as well as my paychecks? As ridiculous as this sounds, money is a serious concern in all of this and anything I can do to prevent disability payments and medical leave is a priority.
More than likely, it seems the best plan would be to do IVF during July and August, possibly September. That would give me more flexibility in terms of going long distances to RE appointments, but it would also make our due date in April, May or June. That's assuming, of course, that IVF will be successful for us.
Further compounding the problem, our HR office sent out an email (finally...) about FSA accounts. I had thought that this would be a good strategy for us, not only to save on taxes, but also as a method of saving for IVF. What I did not realize, however, was that the paperwork was due back to HR less than 24 hours later. I missed the deadline without even knowing it.
So back to square one. Here we are: the third cycle out of four in the research study with no success and no answers. I will be doing these last two cycles of IUI in the research study, but then I will really need to start thinking about what happens next.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Getting Out of This Funk...
This forced break has been a bit tough for me. It really sucks to be stuck here, not progressing.
I think I really need something to do with my time, too. Everyday, I get to leave work as early as 3:30, even though I rarely get out that early. No matter what, I seem to get home by 4:00 or 5:00, which leaves me hours to kill before C gets home. The house is completely decorated for Christmas already, laundry is done, and the house isn't spotless, but it's clean enough. I have absolutely no inspiration to do anything after school most days, and we are completely broke right now, so I can't even run errands some days.
All day today, I looked forward to the fact that it was Friday and that the weekend was starting, but when I got home, I ended up watching TV until almost 7:30 when C got home, then having mediocre leftovers for dinner. We're not going anywhere or doing anything tonight and C is working tomorrow, so the weekend is practically a wash.
It is so unlike me to be so gloomy; it's just not my personality. I know that it is irresponsible and short-sighted to think that a baby would completely cure this problem, but I really kinda think it would. Right now, we are in the position where a couple should be having a baby - we both are secure in our jobs and have enough experience our jobs that we are quite comfortable and have an established routine. Our marriage is healthy and happy and our home is ready and waiting. I honestly believe that we just need that injection of joy, that spark of purpose in our lives right now. That is what my life needs right now - purpose.
Since childhood, I have always been working towards something and scaling the ladder towards my dreams for adulthood. I feel, however, like it has been far too long since I have been able to scale another rung on the ladder. We're stuck in a life rut.
I sometimes even feel alone among the IFers on the boards. I really like the women on the board and value their support, but I really feel like they have been able to do so much more with their lives during infertility than I have. I read constantly about vacations and home remodels, lavish gifts and shopping trips. Obviously, vacations and gadgets don't fill the void left by infertility, but it would be nice to be enjoying our time together as a couple and building some life experience while we wait for our baby. Instead, it seems like we are just getting more and more broke as a result of our jobs, the economy and infertility treatment.
I have been thinking about taking a second job to make more money for savings and to have something to do after work to keep my mind off my empty house. But then I remember how miserable I was for all of those years when I was either working or attending school all day, then working retail or tutoring well into the night. My life was also relatively unhealthy then as I was getting last-minute take out for dinner and neglecting my house and relationships. What I really want right now is for my after school job to be mom...
I think I really need something to do with my time, too. Everyday, I get to leave work as early as 3:30, even though I rarely get out that early. No matter what, I seem to get home by 4:00 or 5:00, which leaves me hours to kill before C gets home. The house is completely decorated for Christmas already, laundry is done, and the house isn't spotless, but it's clean enough. I have absolutely no inspiration to do anything after school most days, and we are completely broke right now, so I can't even run errands some days.
All day today, I looked forward to the fact that it was Friday and that the weekend was starting, but when I got home, I ended up watching TV until almost 7:30 when C got home, then having mediocre leftovers for dinner. We're not going anywhere or doing anything tonight and C is working tomorrow, so the weekend is practically a wash.
It is so unlike me to be so gloomy; it's just not my personality. I know that it is irresponsible and short-sighted to think that a baby would completely cure this problem, but I really kinda think it would. Right now, we are in the position where a couple should be having a baby - we both are secure in our jobs and have enough experience our jobs that we are quite comfortable and have an established routine. Our marriage is healthy and happy and our home is ready and waiting. I honestly believe that we just need that injection of joy, that spark of purpose in our lives right now. That is what my life needs right now - purpose.
Since childhood, I have always been working towards something and scaling the ladder towards my dreams for adulthood. I feel, however, like it has been far too long since I have been able to scale another rung on the ladder. We're stuck in a life rut.
I sometimes even feel alone among the IFers on the boards. I really like the women on the board and value their support, but I really feel like they have been able to do so much more with their lives during infertility than I have. I read constantly about vacations and home remodels, lavish gifts and shopping trips. Obviously, vacations and gadgets don't fill the void left by infertility, but it would be nice to be enjoying our time together as a couple and building some life experience while we wait for our baby. Instead, it seems like we are just getting more and more broke as a result of our jobs, the economy and infertility treatment.
I have been thinking about taking a second job to make more money for savings and to have something to do after work to keep my mind off my empty house. But then I remember how miserable I was for all of those years when I was either working or attending school all day, then working retail or tutoring well into the night. My life was also relatively unhealthy then as I was getting last-minute take out for dinner and neglecting my house and relationships. What I really want right now is for my after school job to be mom...
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Give Thanks
We are right in the midst of the holiday season and I think it is worthwhile to take from another blogger's idea and reflect on things for which I am thankful. Often, when infertility takes over your life, you dwell on the things that you do not have and the things that make you unhappy, so I will attempt to do the opposite today.
1. I am incredibly thankful for my wonderful husband. As much as he can sometimes drive me crazy, he is the perfect match for me and I can't imagine life with anyone else.
2. I am thankful for my pets. My cats and dogs bring so much joy into my life and it truly makes a difference everyday that someone is that excited to see me every time I walk through the door.
3. I truly have the best family in the world. Even though my mom and dad have been apart since I was an infant, they are perfect complements to each other and I can't imagine my life any other way. I also have two fantastic aunts on my mom's side that are like two more moms. My mom also had a brother who was a huge presence in my life (literally and figuratively - he was 6'8" and his personality was larger than life) and even though he died at 44, I am grateful everyday that he was in my life and I think about him everyday.
4. I am thankful for my job. It's not perfect and I really have to count every penny, but the teachers that I work with are kind and supportive, the kids are great and the job itself is flexible and rewarding. I never believed that I was meant for life in a cubicle, so I am very grateful for where I am.
5. I love our little house, particularly when it is decorated for Christmas. Maybe I don't have a big, fenced-in yard, maybe my house is almost 100 years old and only has one bathroom, but all of things give it the charm that C and I loved when we bought it. We have a big, beautiful kitchen, a library in the back of the house, a finished basement, and we save a ton of money by sharing a wall with our neighbors. So what if it's not the sprawling new construction house on former open space? My house has history and it is in the middle of a community where my family has lived for nearly 150 years.
1. I am incredibly thankful for my wonderful husband. As much as he can sometimes drive me crazy, he is the perfect match for me and I can't imagine life with anyone else.
2. I am thankful for my pets. My cats and dogs bring so much joy into my life and it truly makes a difference everyday that someone is that excited to see me every time I walk through the door.
3. I truly have the best family in the world. Even though my mom and dad have been apart since I was an infant, they are perfect complements to each other and I can't imagine my life any other way. I also have two fantastic aunts on my mom's side that are like two more moms. My mom also had a brother who was a huge presence in my life (literally and figuratively - he was 6'8" and his personality was larger than life) and even though he died at 44, I am grateful everyday that he was in my life and I think about him everyday.
4. I am thankful for my job. It's not perfect and I really have to count every penny, but the teachers that I work with are kind and supportive, the kids are great and the job itself is flexible and rewarding. I never believed that I was meant for life in a cubicle, so I am very grateful for where I am.
5. I love our little house, particularly when it is decorated for Christmas. Maybe I don't have a big, fenced-in yard, maybe my house is almost 100 years old and only has one bathroom, but all of things give it the charm that C and I loved when we bought it. We have a big, beautiful kitchen, a library in the back of the house, a finished basement, and we save a ton of money by sharing a wall with our neighbors. So what if it's not the sprawling new construction house on former open space? My house has history and it is in the middle of a community where my family has lived for nearly 150 years.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Micro-IVF
As it looks less and less like IUI will be our path to a BFP, I have been doing some realistic research into our IVF options. It seems like we might be candidates for a newer procedure called micro-IVF. It is a lot less costly than traditional IVF and requires far fewer meds. According to my initial research, it is recommended for women with normal hormone levels, regular ovulation and no MFI.
I am also considering going to New York for IVF as the price is about $2000 lower and there are several grant programs. Unfortunately, most of these grants are for NY residents only, but their website claims that there are some available to non-residents.
As with everything else, I put it up to the experts - the ladies of the Infertility message board. I will update the blog as I gather more information and make some decisions...
I am also considering going to New York for IVF as the price is about $2000 lower and there are several grant programs. Unfortunately, most of these grants are for NY residents only, but their website claims that there are some available to non-residents.
As with everything else, I put it up to the experts - the ladies of the Infertility message board. I will update the blog as I gather more information and make some decisions...
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Me and My Vitamins
Even today, I am anything but a health nut. I eat lots of things that I probably shouldn't, I love diet soda more than a person probably should, and I loathe working out. But becoming desperate changes things.
I have always been suspicious of health products and various supplements. Most are probably just useless garbage that wastes money, but some actually make me a little wary. Sure, I will pound a few diet sodas filled with chemicals, but I am almost irrationally afraid of energy drinks and shots and certain herbal remedies. I tend to stick with tried and true methods based on medical science and shy away from homeopathic or natural treatments that are unproven.
But as medical science continues to yield no results, the special kind of infertile crazy starts to set in. You start to want to make sure that you try every possible method that could improve your chances of success because if you don't, you will wonder for the rest of your life if it would have made a difference.
A few months back, I came across some research that indicated that royal jelly and bee pollen might increase egg quality and possibly even have some positive fertility effects for men, as well. For the first time ever, I went into our neighborhood Vitamin Shoppe and purchased a large jar of the stuff. For weeks, C and I choked down entire spoonfuls twice per day according to the directions on the package. The thick honey cannot even be mixed into tea or heated or the potency might be affected. Recently, much to my and C's relief, I recently discovered that bee pollen and royal jelly is available as a tablet instead.
As part of the study, I am also required to take prenatal vitamins everyday, year-round. And under the recommendation of a friend, I started taking fish oil tablets for the omega-3s, particularly considering that I do not eat fish of any kind. The package directions on the fish oil indicated that I should be taking three per day - one with each meal. Already, this is seeming like a lot of vitamins and supplements. I went ahead a purchased a giant pill organizer for all of these pills.
While I was cruising the boards a few weeks ago, I also noticed that an online friend and fellow infertile was taking wheat grass tablets to boost fertility. CIP (Crazy Infertile Paranoia) sets in and I start wondering if this could be the thing that changes my outlook. For just the second time in my life, I went into that same Vitamin Shoppe and left with bee pollen/royal jelly tablets, wheat grass tablets, a bottle of CoQ10 (what can I say, it was free), and a keychain frequent buyer card. My, how things have changed.
Looking at the massive number of pills I am swallowing each day, my skepticism and fear of medications has returned. I am slightly conflicted about all of these pills, but the CIP has me thinking that this could be the ticket - the thing that changes everything. So for now, I will be building up these superfoods, nutrients and supplements in my system until I can cycle again. But it is such a strange departure for someone who couldn't even remember to take a daily multivitamin a few months ago. That little pill box sits on my desk at work, then travels with me in my handbag everywhere...
I have always been suspicious of health products and various supplements. Most are probably just useless garbage that wastes money, but some actually make me a little wary. Sure, I will pound a few diet sodas filled with chemicals, but I am almost irrationally afraid of energy drinks and shots and certain herbal remedies. I tend to stick with tried and true methods based on medical science and shy away from homeopathic or natural treatments that are unproven.
But as medical science continues to yield no results, the special kind of infertile crazy starts to set in. You start to want to make sure that you try every possible method that could improve your chances of success because if you don't, you will wonder for the rest of your life if it would have made a difference.
A few months back, I came across some research that indicated that royal jelly and bee pollen might increase egg quality and possibly even have some positive fertility effects for men, as well. For the first time ever, I went into our neighborhood Vitamin Shoppe and purchased a large jar of the stuff. For weeks, C and I choked down entire spoonfuls twice per day according to the directions on the package. The thick honey cannot even be mixed into tea or heated or the potency might be affected. Recently, much to my and C's relief, I recently discovered that bee pollen and royal jelly is available as a tablet instead.
As part of the study, I am also required to take prenatal vitamins everyday, year-round. And under the recommendation of a friend, I started taking fish oil tablets for the omega-3s, particularly considering that I do not eat fish of any kind. The package directions on the fish oil indicated that I should be taking three per day - one with each meal. Already, this is seeming like a lot of vitamins and supplements. I went ahead a purchased a giant pill organizer for all of these pills.
While I was cruising the boards a few weeks ago, I also noticed that an online friend and fellow infertile was taking wheat grass tablets to boost fertility. CIP (Crazy Infertile Paranoia) sets in and I start wondering if this could be the thing that changes my outlook. For just the second time in my life, I went into that same Vitamin Shoppe and left with bee pollen/royal jelly tablets, wheat grass tablets, a bottle of CoQ10 (what can I say, it was free), and a keychain frequent buyer card. My, how things have changed.
Looking at the massive number of pills I am swallowing each day, my skepticism and fear of medications has returned. I am slightly conflicted about all of these pills, but the CIP has me thinking that this could be the ticket - the thing that changes everything. So for now, I will be building up these superfoods, nutrients and supplements in my system until I can cycle again. But it is such a strange departure for someone who couldn't even remember to take a daily multivitamin a few months ago. That little pill box sits on my desk at work, then travels with me in my handbag everywhere...
Monday, November 14, 2011
Forced Break
Just when I thought that I would be quickly going through the motions of this study just to get it over with, I am faced with a forced break.
After learning of our 33rd BFN this weekend, I started a new cycle on Thursday and went in for a CD3 baseline ultrasound and bloodwork on Saturday. After the complete and devastating failure of IUI #7, I figured we would just finish up this study and reassess our direction. I got the call later that afternoon that the study requires estradiol levels to be 95 or below and mine was 97. Dammit.
I have to sit this one out. I don't know what is more frustrating: sitting out a cycle that had you really optimistic (we have done this before a few times) or sitting out a cycle for which you had no hope, you just wanted to get it over with...
I had been feeling rather overwhelmed with the study and its rigorous protocol, and I was also becoming overwhelmed with people's curiosity and concern. The further we have gone into this process, the more people in our lives know about it. This is fine with me in theory, but each person has their own way of asking questions and showing their concern and support. Some of these ways are really grating on me.
At the beginning of the study, I had asked a relative to give me the trigger shot because it was much more complicated than the subcutaneous shot in the previous trigger. Now, I somewhat regret that decision. As much as I am comfortable with people knowing that we are IF and that we are in treatment, I don't really like for people to know our status. Having to ask her for a monthly trigger shot makes her acutely aware of our status, not to mention the fact that she is perfectly comfortable asking all sorts of questions that others typically have not.
I have also found myself feeling really alone and alienated at work. I keep reminding myself that I might be overly sensitive and that if I were a mother, especially a mother by very little effort, I would probably talk about nothing but my child, too. But would I? If I knew that a friend was years into TTC, wouldn't I be a little bit more aware? Even if I wasn't IF myself?
In the past, my direct team of coworkers consisted of four women, myself, a newlywed, a single woman and a mother. Later, the newlywed became pregnant and left the job. The team also grew to accommodate an influx of middle schoolers, so it is currently six people - four mothers, a single woman and me. I don't think I am being overly sensitive when I say that the conversation at lunch is entirely about their children and/or pregnancies. I have thought about this a lot and I don't think that I am doing this to myself, but I really feel alienated.
I used to pride myself in staying strong and not being as sensitive as some other IFers that I knew, but maybe I just wasn't infertile long enough back then to really feel the pain. I still don't think that I have crossed over into a real basketcase, but it has become really painful and alienating to sit at that table and listen to them babble endlessly about their registries and room decorations and what their kids will eat and all the cute things they say and all the precious things they do. It breaks my heart. There has to be some kind of balance between the fact that motherhood takes over your life and thinking of something, anything else to talk about in front of your infertile "friend."
After learning of our 33rd BFN this weekend, I started a new cycle on Thursday and went in for a CD3 baseline ultrasound and bloodwork on Saturday. After the complete and devastating failure of IUI #7, I figured we would just finish up this study and reassess our direction. I got the call later that afternoon that the study requires estradiol levels to be 95 or below and mine was 97. Dammit.
I have to sit this one out. I don't know what is more frustrating: sitting out a cycle that had you really optimistic (we have done this before a few times) or sitting out a cycle for which you had no hope, you just wanted to get it over with...
I had been feeling rather overwhelmed with the study and its rigorous protocol, and I was also becoming overwhelmed with people's curiosity and concern. The further we have gone into this process, the more people in our lives know about it. This is fine with me in theory, but each person has their own way of asking questions and showing their concern and support. Some of these ways are really grating on me.
At the beginning of the study, I had asked a relative to give me the trigger shot because it was much more complicated than the subcutaneous shot in the previous trigger. Now, I somewhat regret that decision. As much as I am comfortable with people knowing that we are IF and that we are in treatment, I don't really like for people to know our status. Having to ask her for a monthly trigger shot makes her acutely aware of our status, not to mention the fact that she is perfectly comfortable asking all sorts of questions that others typically have not.
I have also found myself feeling really alone and alienated at work. I keep reminding myself that I might be overly sensitive and that if I were a mother, especially a mother by very little effort, I would probably talk about nothing but my child, too. But would I? If I knew that a friend was years into TTC, wouldn't I be a little bit more aware? Even if I wasn't IF myself?
In the past, my direct team of coworkers consisted of four women, myself, a newlywed, a single woman and a mother. Later, the newlywed became pregnant and left the job. The team also grew to accommodate an influx of middle schoolers, so it is currently six people - four mothers, a single woman and me. I don't think I am being overly sensitive when I say that the conversation at lunch is entirely about their children and/or pregnancies. I have thought about this a lot and I don't think that I am doing this to myself, but I really feel alienated.
I used to pride myself in staying strong and not being as sensitive as some other IFers that I knew, but maybe I just wasn't infertile long enough back then to really feel the pain. I still don't think that I have crossed over into a real basketcase, but it has become really painful and alienating to sit at that table and listen to them babble endlessly about their registries and room decorations and what their kids will eat and all the cute things they say and all the precious things they do. It breaks my heart. There has to be some kind of balance between the fact that motherhood takes over your life and thinking of something, anything else to talk about in front of your infertile "friend."
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Beta In
And it's another BFN.
Last night, we had people over for dinner and went out for a bit, so I never got around to buying an HPT. Usually I like to test first at home to lessen the blow when I get the call from the RE.
All night last night, I woke up almost every half hour. I was so stressed about the beta draw scheduled for this morning. I was a walk-in, so I had to get there before the phlobotomists left for the day. I stressed that I would not wake up in time. I stressed that I hadn't tested with and HPT. I stressed that there was no way for me to get an HPT before morning. I stressed that I would get the call while we were out somewhere doing something and that I wouldn't be able to handle it.
I ended up staying in bed until the last possible moment. I even considered skipping it all together and going tomorrow, but that would have been a logistical nightmare. Finally, I went in this morning around 9:30.
When I got home, it was almost as if we both already knew. C felt tired and groggy, so we both decided to just relax in bed and watch some TV. The call finally came in around 1:30. Ever since the IUI, I had been repeating the same thing to myself - it really should be positive, it could be positive, but it will be negative. It's going to be negative, so just don't get yourself too worked up.
We both decided not to attend the charity event this afternoon that we were considering - C didn't feel like it and I was afraid, as usual, that the call would come in during the event. So we just stayed home.
After the inevitable finally happened, we just hung out around the house for a little longer just not knowing what to say. We both expected it, but it just never gets any easier. Finally, knowing that C had band practice this evening, we decided to go out for an early dinner, just some burgers and chicken.
Luckily, a friend called during dinner offering that we could pick up some stuff that he had offered us weeks ago because he is moving long distance and no longer has room for it. It was a nice diversion from our shared sullen attitude. C got to be excited for a moment about his new fish equipment and I got to visit with an old friend, if only briefly.
When we got home, C had to leave almost immediately for practice, so I am just here hanging out by myself. This just sucks and I am just so tired...
We have two more cycles in the study, and I really think I will just be going through the motions. I am living proof that it just doesn't matter how perfect everything about a cycle seems - IUI just isn't going to be our path to a BFP.
Last night, we had people over for dinner and went out for a bit, so I never got around to buying an HPT. Usually I like to test first at home to lessen the blow when I get the call from the RE.
All night last night, I woke up almost every half hour. I was so stressed about the beta draw scheduled for this morning. I was a walk-in, so I had to get there before the phlobotomists left for the day. I stressed that I would not wake up in time. I stressed that I hadn't tested with and HPT. I stressed that there was no way for me to get an HPT before morning. I stressed that I would get the call while we were out somewhere doing something and that I wouldn't be able to handle it.
I ended up staying in bed until the last possible moment. I even considered skipping it all together and going tomorrow, but that would have been a logistical nightmare. Finally, I went in this morning around 9:30.
When I got home, it was almost as if we both already knew. C felt tired and groggy, so we both decided to just relax in bed and watch some TV. The call finally came in around 1:30. Ever since the IUI, I had been repeating the same thing to myself - it really should be positive, it could be positive, but it will be negative. It's going to be negative, so just don't get yourself too worked up.
We both decided not to attend the charity event this afternoon that we were considering - C didn't feel like it and I was afraid, as usual, that the call would come in during the event. So we just stayed home.
After the inevitable finally happened, we just hung out around the house for a little longer just not knowing what to say. We both expected it, but it just never gets any easier. Finally, knowing that C had band practice this evening, we decided to go out for an early dinner, just some burgers and chicken.
Luckily, a friend called during dinner offering that we could pick up some stuff that he had offered us weeks ago because he is moving long distance and no longer has room for it. It was a nice diversion from our shared sullen attitude. C got to be excited for a moment about his new fish equipment and I got to visit with an old friend, if only briefly.
When we got home, C had to leave almost immediately for practice, so I am just here hanging out by myself. This just sucks and I am just so tired...
We have two more cycles in the study, and I really think I will just be going through the motions. I am living proof that it just doesn't matter how perfect everything about a cycle seems - IUI just isn't going to be our path to a BFP.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Vivid Dreams
One of the hardest parts of this process for me has been the vivid dreams. I have been told before that everyone dreams every night, but that most people do not remember the dreams once they wake. I am definitely one of these people. I seldom recall having dreams during my sleep, that is, if I am dreaming at all.
Since experiencing IF, however, vivid dreams have been more and more frequent. I haven't been sleeping as well during this whole experience and I find that I am often waking up throughout the night for short periods of time, then falling back asleep. Once I wake, I can remember vivid and detailed dreams about caring for our baby. They are often so convincing that I have to sort out reality from dream when I wake up.
When this happens, it usually has a strange effect on the rest of my day. All day today, I was thinking about the twins that we had in my dream last night. It was so real...
Since experiencing IF, however, vivid dreams have been more and more frequent. I haven't been sleeping as well during this whole experience and I find that I am often waking up throughout the night for short periods of time, then falling back asleep. Once I wake, I can remember vivid and detailed dreams about caring for our baby. They are often so convincing that I have to sort out reality from dream when I wake up.
When this happens, it usually has a strange effect on the rest of my day. All day today, I was thinking about the twins that we had in my dream last night. It was so real...
---
On Sunday, I went in for the follow-up ultrasound one week after the IUI. I'm really not sure why the study requires this ultrasound because it really doesn't provide much information other than the number of antral follicles and the thickness of my lining. Like usual, everything looked perfect.
I almost wish that they wouldn't check in so often and tell me how perfect everything looks. This cycle was especially perfect. Literally every part of the cycle was textbook perfect - hormone levels, lining, two follicles... everything. All the checking in is forcing me to build up hopes that likely will be dashed in just a few days.
Waking up from that dream this morning, I felt even more filled with dread. Despite everything being perfect, I just don't understand how the same process that has failed six times before could work. Simply put, I am beginning to wonder if I can even imagine myself pregnant. It seems like most women who have been IF for 2+ years have had a diagnosis or some kind of problem, have conceived and lost, or conceived successfully. It is just so weird to be healthy and unexplained, to have perfect testing and to have nothing but BFNs to show for it...
I'm at a really weird place right now where my mind has become convinced that I may never be pregnant. I don't know if it is worth even looking into IVF and spending all that money if my brain is completely unconvinced.
Maybe I will be in a different mood tomorrow, but as the date for testing and beta draw nears, I am feeling less and less optimistic.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Another 2ww
As of Sunday morning, we are officially in the 2ww again. This one might be particularly rough for a few reasons.
Firstly, there are so many more hopes and expectations associated with a picture perfect cycle - those two follicles, the lining measurements, a strong sample count. No matter how much your infertile voice tells your brain not to get its hopes up, those churning "mommy" chemicals in the rest of the brain can't let it go.
Secondly, my pregnant co-teacher is having one of the most exciting and joyous days of her life tomorrow - right smack in the middle of my 2ww. Despite her PCOS, she was able to conceive her first child after just rounds of Clomid, and now the second after just another round. I am happy for her, but it is also so hard to be excited for her when she is lapping me with Baby #2. Tomorrow, she finds out whether her baby is a boy or a girl and she has taken the day off for the ultrasound.
As her friend, I am excited to find out and I am happy for her, but my mind is racing. Will I look excited enough when she tells me? Will I be able to hide my obvious mixed feelings? Will people look at me when we discuss it with those piteous looks? Only time will tell.
As infertiles, we repeat this mantra to ourselves over and over - someone else's fertility does not affect my infertility. But your brain and your heart just can't see eye-to-eye on this one.
I hope this cycle makes it all worthwhile...
Firstly, there are so many more hopes and expectations associated with a picture perfect cycle - those two follicles, the lining measurements, a strong sample count. No matter how much your infertile voice tells your brain not to get its hopes up, those churning "mommy" chemicals in the rest of the brain can't let it go.
Secondly, my pregnant co-teacher is having one of the most exciting and joyous days of her life tomorrow - right smack in the middle of my 2ww. Despite her PCOS, she was able to conceive her first child after just rounds of Clomid, and now the second after just another round. I am happy for her, but it is also so hard to be excited for her when she is lapping me with Baby #2. Tomorrow, she finds out whether her baby is a boy or a girl and she has taken the day off for the ultrasound.
As her friend, I am excited to find out and I am happy for her, but my mind is racing. Will I look excited enough when she tells me? Will I be able to hide my obvious mixed feelings? Will people look at me when we discuss it with those piteous looks? Only time will tell.
As infertiles, we repeat this mantra to ourselves over and over - someone else's fertility does not affect my infertility. But your brain and your heart just can't see eye-to-eye on this one.
I hope this cycle makes it all worthwhile...
Monday, October 24, 2011
IUI #7 is in the books...
For the first time ever, we got the go-ahead to trigger on CD12 which landed on Friday. Earlier that morning, I went in for a follow-up ultrasound. On Wednesday, I had an ultrasound on CD10 with very positive and surprising results. For the first time ever, I had two lead follicles in the right ovary and they were rapidly maturing. Back on Wednesday, the on-call RE even said that her hunch was that we would be ready to trigger on Friday.
Recall from previous cycles that I have never triggered on CD12. I have always had to go back for a repeat ultrasound on CD14. Most of the time, I have triggered on CD14, but there were two occasions when I had to wait until CD15. To trigger on CD12 with two healthy follicles was definitely a first.
Despite the cyst in the left ovary that persists to this day, my hormone levels are still "perfect" and the cyst itself has not grown.
On Sunday morning, we went in for IUI #7. C's count was fine - after wash it was around 15 million with 97% motility. The IUI went perfectly, as usual, and now we are officially in the 2ww. I will return on Sunday for more bloodwork and a follow-up ultrasound, then we will find out whether or not seven really is our lucky number the following Sunday.
Last cycle was so crushing and it was so much like all of the others, I really believed that I could never go into another cycle optimistic again. I don't know that I am going into this optimistic per se, but at least hopeful. When treatment has only ever given me one follicle and a CD14-15 trigger and I suddenly have two and a CD12 trigger, you can't help but wonder if maybe something will be different this time... Or at least hope that something will be different this time...
Recall from previous cycles that I have never triggered on CD12. I have always had to go back for a repeat ultrasound on CD14. Most of the time, I have triggered on CD14, but there were two occasions when I had to wait until CD15. To trigger on CD12 with two healthy follicles was definitely a first.
Despite the cyst in the left ovary that persists to this day, my hormone levels are still "perfect" and the cyst itself has not grown.
On Sunday morning, we went in for IUI #7. C's count was fine - after wash it was around 15 million with 97% motility. The IUI went perfectly, as usual, and now we are officially in the 2ww. I will return on Sunday for more bloodwork and a follow-up ultrasound, then we will find out whether or not seven really is our lucky number the following Sunday.
Last cycle was so crushing and it was so much like all of the others, I really believed that I could never go into another cycle optimistic again. I don't know that I am going into this optimistic per se, but at least hopeful. When treatment has only ever given me one follicle and a CD14-15 trigger and I suddenly have two and a CD12 trigger, you can't help but wonder if maybe something will be different this time... Or at least hope that something will be different this time...
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Seeing Double
For the first time ever, I have two follicles growing in the right ovary. It seems like I am responding a little better to the meds this time around. Both follicles were around 15mm, which also means that they seem to be developing a bit more quickly than usual. As a result, I was quite pleased when I left the office this morning.
I know I always say the same things, but I am really hopeful this time. This is our lucky #7 IUI and it looks like the IUI itself will be on the same day as that fortune cookie prediction that has an irrational but powerful control over my psyche for whatever reason.
I haven't received the call from the RE yet, but I will most likely have to go back for another ultrasound on Friday (CD12). If this cycle is like the others, I will also go back on Sunday, then possibly trigger Sunday night. We'll see how it goes!
I know I always say the same things, but I am really hopeful this time. This is our lucky #7 IUI and it looks like the IUI itself will be on the same day as that fortune cookie prediction that has an irrational but powerful control over my psyche for whatever reason.
I haven't received the call from the RE yet, but I will most likely have to go back for another ultrasound on Friday (CD12). If this cycle is like the others, I will also go back on Sunday, then possibly trigger Sunday night. We'll see how it goes!
Monday, October 17, 2011
Lucky #7?
After finding out that IUI #6 was a bust, we began IUI #7 almost immediately.
I went downtown for the CD3 baseline ultrasound and bloodwork on Wednesday and they dispensed the meds for this cycle. I was not allowed to start, however, until the bloodwork showed that the cyst in my left ovary was not affecting my hormone levels. Later that afternoon, I got the call that my estrogen levels were completely within the normal range and that we were cleared to begin with Lucky #7.
Just last night, I took my last study pills and I am going in on Wednesday morning for a CD10 ultrasound and bloodwork. Last cycle, CD10 was on a Saturday, so all of the follow-up monitoring ended up throughout the rest of the business week. Hopefully, two of the monitoring appointments this time will end up on the weekend, though I will most likely have to come in really late on Tuesday or Wednesday for an IUI.
Last cycle, when my beta was negative, the on-call RE called with the results of the test, but then the research coordinator herself called and spoke to me and was genuinely "not OK" that it was negative. Obviously, the nurses and doctors always wanted success before, but it really seemed like Jean was more supportive and more personally involved in my case and that they have higher expectations of success in the study. Afterall, their success rates are much higher than at the clinical level.
Obviously, her level of concern or how supported I feel is not going to affect the outcome of the cycle, but it has been so much easier to cope in this study than the lonely, herded feeling of clinical practice.
From here on out, were betting on Lucky 7s! Maybe a trip to the casino is in order!
I went downtown for the CD3 baseline ultrasound and bloodwork on Wednesday and they dispensed the meds for this cycle. I was not allowed to start, however, until the bloodwork showed that the cyst in my left ovary was not affecting my hormone levels. Later that afternoon, I got the call that my estrogen levels were completely within the normal range and that we were cleared to begin with Lucky #7.
Just last night, I took my last study pills and I am going in on Wednesday morning for a CD10 ultrasound and bloodwork. Last cycle, CD10 was on a Saturday, so all of the follow-up monitoring ended up throughout the rest of the business week. Hopefully, two of the monitoring appointments this time will end up on the weekend, though I will most likely have to come in really late on Tuesday or Wednesday for an IUI.
Last cycle, when my beta was negative, the on-call RE called with the results of the test, but then the research coordinator herself called and spoke to me and was genuinely "not OK" that it was negative. Obviously, the nurses and doctors always wanted success before, but it really seemed like Jean was more supportive and more personally involved in my case and that they have higher expectations of success in the study. Afterall, their success rates are much higher than at the clinical level.
Obviously, her level of concern or how supported I feel is not going to affect the outcome of the cycle, but it has been so much easier to cope in this study than the lonely, herded feeling of clinical practice.
From here on out, were betting on Lucky 7s! Maybe a trip to the casino is in order!
Monday, October 10, 2011
It's a mystery no longer...
...what the "mystery pill" is for the study. I can say with confidence that it is probably Clomid.
Thinking back, I did always respond better to Clomid than to Femara and this cycle I had two follicles, even if one was not quite mature. It took much longer to develop those two follicles, however, than it did on my previous trials with Clomid.
Without going into too much detail, there is another tell-tale sign that the pill was Clomid. Let's just say that the period one experiences after taking Clomid is very recognizable, and that was just starting last night. I will be counting today as CD1, which means I start this whole rigmarole of constant monitoring on Wednesday.
I doubt that I will actually be beginning a new cycle on Wednesday, however, given these two cysts that I developed. Back in early 2011, I developed one cyst from two back-to-back cycles of Clomid and the RE left it up to me whether or not I wanted to continue cycling or take a break month. C and I opted for the break, given a destination wedding we were attending that would have interfered with the IUI, as well as our shared exhaustion with the process.
With two cysts, however, it is more likely that I will have to wait one out and wait for the cysts to shrink. I'm sure that they will make me return on CD3 for the baseline ultrasound and blood work and they will want to assess whether or not the cysts are affecting my hormone levels, but I think a break might be best for us anyway. I will be giving the research coordinator a call tomorrow - more accurately, giving her voicemail a call - and letting her know that another cycle has begun. We'll just have to wait and see what happens...
Thinking back, I did always respond better to Clomid than to Femara and this cycle I had two follicles, even if one was not quite mature. It took much longer to develop those two follicles, however, than it did on my previous trials with Clomid.
Without going into too much detail, there is another tell-tale sign that the pill was Clomid. Let's just say that the period one experiences after taking Clomid is very recognizable, and that was just starting last night. I will be counting today as CD1, which means I start this whole rigmarole of constant monitoring on Wednesday.
I doubt that I will actually be beginning a new cycle on Wednesday, however, given these two cysts that I developed. Back in early 2011, I developed one cyst from two back-to-back cycles of Clomid and the RE left it up to me whether or not I wanted to continue cycling or take a break month. C and I opted for the break, given a destination wedding we were attending that would have interfered with the IUI, as well as our shared exhaustion with the process.
With two cysts, however, it is more likely that I will have to wait one out and wait for the cysts to shrink. I'm sure that they will make me return on CD3 for the baseline ultrasound and blood work and they will want to assess whether or not the cysts are affecting my hormone levels, but I think a break might be best for us anyway. I will be giving the research coordinator a call tomorrow - more accurately, giving her voicemail a call - and letting her know that another cycle has begun. We'll just have to wait and see what happens...
Sunday, October 9, 2011
BFN
After the really disappointing adoption webinar, we've been dealt a few more blows this weekend...
After our IUI two weeks ago, we were told to come back yesterday for a beta draw. Yesterday I had to attend a bridal shower in the afternoon, so I figured that I should probably test on Friday morning so that I am prepared for the phone call on Saturday. I really didn't want a surprise, especially if I was going to be a shower.
I tested on Friday morning - BFN, stark white. I was pretty crushed, but not at all surprised. After a year of testing and treatment, all with no answers but BFNs, I don't think I will ever go into another cycle optimistic again.
Though it may seem trivial in comparison, I also had tickets for Game 5 of the NLDS on Friday night - the elimination game between the Phillies and the Cardinals to determine who moves forward to the NLCS and eventually, the World Series. C and I are rabid Phillies fans and it is tremendously important to us. Even though the Phillies had the highest record in all of Major League Baseball and the most intimidating starting pitching lineup in all of baseball, there was a strange mood in the stadium that night - one of impending doom.
I kept saying to myself, I don't know if I can take this twice in one day. For weeks, I have been saying that I would rather not even use my Game 5 tickets if it meant a win for the Phils to move on to NLCS. I don't like high stakes games and to say that I internalize the stress of the game is an understatement. Well, of course, the mood of the crowd was right and the Phils lost, 1-0, an infuriating end to a stellar season.
The stress of both major disappointments was really tough. I know that sounds ridiculous, but we were counting on some kind of October joy. Hell, we even got a fortune cookie back in July that said, "Remember the date three months from this day. Joy is waiting for you." We thought that we would either be pregnant in October, and please remember the absolute perfection of an October conception from my previous post, or we would be dancing in the streets with our city celebrating another win. The paper slip from the cookie is taped to the calendar right on top of October 27. We really thought it was a sign.
I woke up yesterday with a screaming headache. Some force would not allow me to get out of bed to go for that damn beta draw. I don't know why, but I just couldn't do it. Since my research coordinator is away for the weekend, I figured it would do no harm if I skipped it - there was no appointment anyway, just a walk-in blood draw - and went this morning instead. I called, left her a message and slept in.
I went to the shower yesterday and it was quite painful. I even had people ask me if I was pregnant, flat out, then others talk about how wonderful it would be if I adopted a little boy like Sandra Bullock's Louis. Not only did I feel uncomfortable and blindsided, and I let it show, but it didn't seem to stop the conversation. It's a good thing I skipped the beta draw yesterday because if the call had come from the lab during that party, I might have had to run away.
Instead, I went in this morning. I had my blood drawn and C came with me. On the way home, we decided to run to the big Super Walmart that is about thirty minutes away. As soon as we merged onto the Blue Route, we hit gridlocked, bumper to bumper traffic. We spent over an hour just on that stretch of road, but it didn't matter because we both were having a great morning. We stopped for coffee and doughnuts and just ate in the car, laughed and talked.
We got to Walmart and were again in great spirits. We laughed hysterically as we bought Yoda and Princess Leia costumes for our dogs and an ice cube tray that makes ice shot glasses.
Then my phone rang.
I answered it and the on-call RE told me what I already knew, that it was negative. Why would this upset me? I already knew that it was negative. C and I were having a fantastic morning. I don't know why, but it still crushed me.
Despite the better-than-average mood of this morning, we rode home in silence. I don't know exactly was C was thinking, but I had a lump in my throat and was just feeling sick-to-death of 2011. This whole year has been tough - just filled with one disappointment after another. I ran into problems at work earlier in the year, I have had all sorts of responsibilities foisted onto me this school year, I had a downright depressing summer of being broke and doing nothing, an unsatisfying raise (if you would even call it a raise), a disappointing end to the baseball season, and, of course, months and months more of fruitless fertility treatment. I really feel like I am ready for this year to be over.
After our IUI two weeks ago, we were told to come back yesterday for a beta draw. Yesterday I had to attend a bridal shower in the afternoon, so I figured that I should probably test on Friday morning so that I am prepared for the phone call on Saturday. I really didn't want a surprise, especially if I was going to be a shower.
I tested on Friday morning - BFN, stark white. I was pretty crushed, but not at all surprised. After a year of testing and treatment, all with no answers but BFNs, I don't think I will ever go into another cycle optimistic again.
Though it may seem trivial in comparison, I also had tickets for Game 5 of the NLDS on Friday night - the elimination game between the Phillies and the Cardinals to determine who moves forward to the NLCS and eventually, the World Series. C and I are rabid Phillies fans and it is tremendously important to us. Even though the Phillies had the highest record in all of Major League Baseball and the most intimidating starting pitching lineup in all of baseball, there was a strange mood in the stadium that night - one of impending doom.
I kept saying to myself, I don't know if I can take this twice in one day. For weeks, I have been saying that I would rather not even use my Game 5 tickets if it meant a win for the Phils to move on to NLCS. I don't like high stakes games and to say that I internalize the stress of the game is an understatement. Well, of course, the mood of the crowd was right and the Phils lost, 1-0, an infuriating end to a stellar season.
The stress of both major disappointments was really tough. I know that sounds ridiculous, but we were counting on some kind of October joy. Hell, we even got a fortune cookie back in July that said, "Remember the date three months from this day. Joy is waiting for you." We thought that we would either be pregnant in October, and please remember the absolute perfection of an October conception from my previous post, or we would be dancing in the streets with our city celebrating another win. The paper slip from the cookie is taped to the calendar right on top of October 27. We really thought it was a sign.
I woke up yesterday with a screaming headache. Some force would not allow me to get out of bed to go for that damn beta draw. I don't know why, but I just couldn't do it. Since my research coordinator is away for the weekend, I figured it would do no harm if I skipped it - there was no appointment anyway, just a walk-in blood draw - and went this morning instead. I called, left her a message and slept in.
I went to the shower yesterday and it was quite painful. I even had people ask me if I was pregnant, flat out, then others talk about how wonderful it would be if I adopted a little boy like Sandra Bullock's Louis. Not only did I feel uncomfortable and blindsided, and I let it show, but it didn't seem to stop the conversation. It's a good thing I skipped the beta draw yesterday because if the call had come from the lab during that party, I might have had to run away.
Instead, I went in this morning. I had my blood drawn and C came with me. On the way home, we decided to run to the big Super Walmart that is about thirty minutes away. As soon as we merged onto the Blue Route, we hit gridlocked, bumper to bumper traffic. We spent over an hour just on that stretch of road, but it didn't matter because we both were having a great morning. We stopped for coffee and doughnuts and just ate in the car, laughed and talked.
We got to Walmart and were again in great spirits. We laughed hysterically as we bought Yoda and Princess Leia costumes for our dogs and an ice cube tray that makes ice shot glasses.
Then my phone rang.
I answered it and the on-call RE told me what I already knew, that it was negative. Why would this upset me? I already knew that it was negative. C and I were having a fantastic morning. I don't know why, but it still crushed me.
Despite the better-than-average mood of this morning, we rode home in silence. I don't know exactly was C was thinking, but I had a lump in my throat and was just feeling sick-to-death of 2011. This whole year has been tough - just filled with one disappointment after another. I ran into problems at work earlier in the year, I have had all sorts of responsibilities foisted onto me this school year, I had a downright depressing summer of being broke and doing nothing, an unsatisfying raise (if you would even call it a raise), a disappointing end to the baseball season, and, of course, months and months more of fruitless fertility treatment. I really feel like I am ready for this year to be over.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Adoption Webinar
Even before I knew that we would struggle with infertility, I still looked into adoption as a viable family-building option. It also gives me some peace of mind to know that I have a Plan B and a Plan C in the event of another BFN. Knowing this, I signed C and I up for a webinar about domestic adoption through a local agency located in Wynnewood, PA.
Basically, the webinar was just a Power Point presentation with an adoption consultant speaking through a microphone. The webinar software allowed users to "raise their hands" electronically and ask questions, also via microphone. Most of the information contained in the webinar was already familiar to me just based on my own research. There were a few facts, however, that were startlingly grounding.
I knew that the application process would be grueling and that they could and would look into virtually every facet of our personal, legal and financial lives. As I have said before, if we adopt, we would be relying almost entirely on help from my family. When they listed the number of reports, histories and forms that they would analyze, I was immediately reluctant.
I am not at all worried about passing a screening for any part of my personal or professional life. We are hard-working, incredibly responsible people, but also lively, fun and outgoing. My house is suitable in every way for children and I even already hold FBI, state police and Childline clearances as a teacher.
I am concerned about the financial piece, however. We have very little money outside of our bills and debts. We are not irresponsible with money, but my job does not pay as much as I had expected when I entered the profession and we are still paying back loans for mine and C's education, as well as our mortgage, taxes and regular bills. We do not live especially frugally, but I also feel strongly about living happily while we battle infertility.
If they were to analyze my income and my savings history, I am not sure that we would pass. It is like a knife in the gut that even if we were able to collect the tens of thousands necessary for adopting, our income, savings, and bills could still prohibit us from being parents. And what really hurts is that it is up to someone else to decide whether or not we get to be parents.
Someone else watching the webinar asked about the statistics for birthmothers changing their minds during the process. This was also somewhat disheartening. In the adoption community, a "disappointment" is when a birthmother changes her mind and decides to keep the child before the baby is placed with the adoptive parents. A "disruption" is when the decision is made after the child has been placed. While both would be devastating, I hadn't even considered the latter too much, but during the webinar I learned that not only does this happen, but that in Pennsylvania, the birthparents have 30 days to do so.
I had read over the fee schedule for adoption before and it was also shockingly high. There were several fees on the list, however, that were marked with asterisks indicating that they might not apply depending on the situation. Obviously, I hoped that many of these fees would not apply to us. According to the estimates in the webinar, though, most of them will. The estimate range that she gave was higher than expected. In addition, the adoption tax credit is not as forgiving as we had originally understood, and it may be ending given the dire straits of the economy and tax-funded programs.
Overall, the webinar was disheartening. Any information covered was either a rehashing of things I already knew, or a grimmer presentation of facts that I had already feared. Adopting is already almost a complete financial impossibility and learning these new twists and turns made the realization even more difficult.
It looks like trying even two or three cycles of IVF would be a lot more affordable than adopting, assuming that we would have any success, and it may even be less emotionally draining. Let's hope we don't make it that far...
Basically, the webinar was just a Power Point presentation with an adoption consultant speaking through a microphone. The webinar software allowed users to "raise their hands" electronically and ask questions, also via microphone. Most of the information contained in the webinar was already familiar to me just based on my own research. There were a few facts, however, that were startlingly grounding.
I knew that the application process would be grueling and that they could and would look into virtually every facet of our personal, legal and financial lives. As I have said before, if we adopt, we would be relying almost entirely on help from my family. When they listed the number of reports, histories and forms that they would analyze, I was immediately reluctant.
I am not at all worried about passing a screening for any part of my personal or professional life. We are hard-working, incredibly responsible people, but also lively, fun and outgoing. My house is suitable in every way for children and I even already hold FBI, state police and Childline clearances as a teacher.
I am concerned about the financial piece, however. We have very little money outside of our bills and debts. We are not irresponsible with money, but my job does not pay as much as I had expected when I entered the profession and we are still paying back loans for mine and C's education, as well as our mortgage, taxes and regular bills. We do not live especially frugally, but I also feel strongly about living happily while we battle infertility.
If they were to analyze my income and my savings history, I am not sure that we would pass. It is like a knife in the gut that even if we were able to collect the tens of thousands necessary for adopting, our income, savings, and bills could still prohibit us from being parents. And what really hurts is that it is up to someone else to decide whether or not we get to be parents.
Someone else watching the webinar asked about the statistics for birthmothers changing their minds during the process. This was also somewhat disheartening. In the adoption community, a "disappointment" is when a birthmother changes her mind and decides to keep the child before the baby is placed with the adoptive parents. A "disruption" is when the decision is made after the child has been placed. While both would be devastating, I hadn't even considered the latter too much, but during the webinar I learned that not only does this happen, but that in Pennsylvania, the birthparents have 30 days to do so.
I had read over the fee schedule for adoption before and it was also shockingly high. There were several fees on the list, however, that were marked with asterisks indicating that they might not apply depending on the situation. Obviously, I hoped that many of these fees would not apply to us. According to the estimates in the webinar, though, most of them will. The estimate range that she gave was higher than expected. In addition, the adoption tax credit is not as forgiving as we had originally understood, and it may be ending given the dire straits of the economy and tax-funded programs.
Overall, the webinar was disheartening. Any information covered was either a rehashing of things I already knew, or a grimmer presentation of facts that I had already feared. Adopting is already almost a complete financial impossibility and learning these new twists and turns made the realization even more difficult.
It looks like trying even two or three cycles of IVF would be a lot more affordable than adopting, assuming that we would have any success, and it may even be less emotionally draining. Let's hope we don't make it that far...
Sunday, October 2, 2011
One week to go...
...until we find out whether or not this cycle was a success.
Normally after my IUI, I just waited two weeks, took an HPT, then waited for a new cycle to begin and scheduled my next baseline ultrasound. I have never had a beta draw because I guess I never really needed it.
This time, I was required to back to the RE one week after the IUI. In the study, they do a post-IUI ultrasound and blood draw, though they really don't provide many answers at this point. They measured the thickness of my lining, counted the antral follicles in each ovary and confirmed that both ovaries had, in fact, ovulated the lead follice on the left and the smaller, less mature follicle on the right. Even though I knew that the second follicle was most likely immature and small, it did make me feel better to know that I had two this round instead of just one.
Unfortunately, they found during the ultrasound that the left ovary cyst is still there and slightly larger than before, and there is a new cyst, also in the left. If this cycle is not successful, that may mean that I need a break cycle to let these cysts shrink down, especially if they are affecting my hormone levels.
After the blood draw, they never called back with results, so I am not sure what they were testing for, or if it was just more material for the study. I was incredibly relieved that Saturday's appointment was the only monitoring I needed for the whole week because I was really getting tired of all those blood draws. The phlebotomist also bruised my arm pretty good yesterday on my "best vein" and I am glad it will have a week to recover.
Next Saturday, I will go in for another blood draw, the beta draw, to see if we are pregnant. I will definitely take an HPT this time because I think waiting around all day for the phone call would be torturous. If the HPT is positive, I will just be looking forward to hearing how strong our numbers are, and if is negative, I will also be interested in hearing our numbers, and I can deal with it at home instead of wherever I am when the phone rings. I hope this is it!!
Normally after my IUI, I just waited two weeks, took an HPT, then waited for a new cycle to begin and scheduled my next baseline ultrasound. I have never had a beta draw because I guess I never really needed it.
This time, I was required to back to the RE one week after the IUI. In the study, they do a post-IUI ultrasound and blood draw, though they really don't provide many answers at this point. They measured the thickness of my lining, counted the antral follicles in each ovary and confirmed that both ovaries had, in fact, ovulated the lead follice on the left and the smaller, less mature follicle on the right. Even though I knew that the second follicle was most likely immature and small, it did make me feel better to know that I had two this round instead of just one.
Unfortunately, they found during the ultrasound that the left ovary cyst is still there and slightly larger than before, and there is a new cyst, also in the left. If this cycle is not successful, that may mean that I need a break cycle to let these cysts shrink down, especially if they are affecting my hormone levels.
After the blood draw, they never called back with results, so I am not sure what they were testing for, or if it was just more material for the study. I was incredibly relieved that Saturday's appointment was the only monitoring I needed for the whole week because I was really getting tired of all those blood draws. The phlebotomist also bruised my arm pretty good yesterday on my "best vein" and I am glad it will have a week to recover.
Next Saturday, I will go in for another blood draw, the beta draw, to see if we are pregnant. I will definitely take an HPT this time because I think waiting around all day for the phone call would be torturous. If the HPT is positive, I will just be looking forward to hearing how strong our numbers are, and if is negative, I will also be interested in hearing our numbers, and I can deal with it at home instead of wherever I am when the phone rings. I hope this is it!!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Easy for you to say!
It never ceases to amaze me what people will say to me about my infertility. No matter what the issue is, I always follow this motto - the only thing I truly understand is my own experience. I can sympathize with someone about something I have never experienced, or I can try to help, but advice or wisdom really cannot be shared without some experience.
I figure that I am still pretty young and don't have a whole lot of life experience under my belt. I will only give advice on things that I have experienced. Otherwise, I think it's ballsy and often rude to assume that you know more about the issue than the person who is living it.
Why doesn't everyone else follow this basic code of conduct? It sounds cliche for an infertile to complain about other people's comments, but it really is grating and hurtful. Actually, it is one of the hardest parts of infertility.
Recently, I have been told by friends, family members and coworkers many tidbits of advice that are based on absolutely zero experience or insight. I have been told that I should just "go for it" and try IVF. I have been told that having a child is the most important thing in the world and that I should spare no expense. I have even been told that not having a child wouldn't be "the worst thing in the world."
Here's why these statements may seem logical to the speaker, but are like a knife in the heart to me:
"Just go for it - try IVF. You have nothing to lose."
That just plain old isn't true. I am not against trying IVF at all, and if my life were a little different, I would probably be doing it right now. But my life is like this - I can't afford it. I would have to take thousands of dollars from my family just for a roll of the dice. They are all insisting that I should just do it and that the financial concerns shouldn't affect my decision, but they do. My family cannot afford this. They would be stretching themselves far beyond what I can possibly expect from them, and I know that I would live with the guilt of taking all that money and hurting them financially, especially if it didn't work. They can think whatever they want about it, but I know that there is a chance it wouldn't work and that I would be an emotional mess and complete guilt-monster if it didn't. Plus, if it didn't work, we would just need thousands more to adopt. It really isn't as cut-and-dry as they would like to think.
And, yes, as a matter of fact, I have a lot to lose. I have thousands of dollars to lose, weeks of time from work, months of building hope, and hopefully not the devastation of it not working. In the end, if it doesn't work, I will have lost a lot - most importantly, a little part of myself.
"What are you doing spending money on anything else?! This is the most important thing in the world and you should be saving for more treatment!"
OK, first of all, we barely have enough money to be saving for treatment. On top of that, this is not just infertility - this is our lives. Part of surviving being child-free, especially if we are going to stay that way, is to have a fulfilling life outside of having children. In the past two-and-a-half years of TTC, we have traveled, visited friends, gone on day trips, and made a few larger purchases. Creating a happy life together is what keeps us sane. If I devoted every penny to fertility treatment, life wouldn't be good. We would be lonely homebodies who couldn't go out to dinner with family or visit friends in other cities. We couldn't have attended distant weddings or spontaneously decided to go out. And how about when all the treatments didn't work? Then we would have been miserable, miserly, lonely and it really may have stressed our marriage. The truth is - I don't regret living while we are infertile.
"Not having children wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."
Maybe it wouldn't, but it really isn't anyone's place to say this, and then again, maybe it would be the worst thing. Being forced to live child-free can put an immense strain on a marriage. And it's not like once we decided on this path, we would just forget that we ever wanted them. Our whole lives will be surrounded by people with children in a society that values family life and finds fulfillment in having children. We may be devastated for the rest of our lives. We may even be divorced. Based on how much C and I deeply love each other and how much we have always wanted and prepared for children, this really does seem like the worst thing in the world.
I figure that I am still pretty young and don't have a whole lot of life experience under my belt. I will only give advice on things that I have experienced. Otherwise, I think it's ballsy and often rude to assume that you know more about the issue than the person who is living it.
Why doesn't everyone else follow this basic code of conduct? It sounds cliche for an infertile to complain about other people's comments, but it really is grating and hurtful. Actually, it is one of the hardest parts of infertility.
Recently, I have been told by friends, family members and coworkers many tidbits of advice that are based on absolutely zero experience or insight. I have been told that I should just "go for it" and try IVF. I have been told that having a child is the most important thing in the world and that I should spare no expense. I have even been told that not having a child wouldn't be "the worst thing in the world."
Here's why these statements may seem logical to the speaker, but are like a knife in the heart to me:
"Just go for it - try IVF. You have nothing to lose."
That just plain old isn't true. I am not against trying IVF at all, and if my life were a little different, I would probably be doing it right now. But my life is like this - I can't afford it. I would have to take thousands of dollars from my family just for a roll of the dice. They are all insisting that I should just do it and that the financial concerns shouldn't affect my decision, but they do. My family cannot afford this. They would be stretching themselves far beyond what I can possibly expect from them, and I know that I would live with the guilt of taking all that money and hurting them financially, especially if it didn't work. They can think whatever they want about it, but I know that there is a chance it wouldn't work and that I would be an emotional mess and complete guilt-monster if it didn't. Plus, if it didn't work, we would just need thousands more to adopt. It really isn't as cut-and-dry as they would like to think.
And, yes, as a matter of fact, I have a lot to lose. I have thousands of dollars to lose, weeks of time from work, months of building hope, and hopefully not the devastation of it not working. In the end, if it doesn't work, I will have lost a lot - most importantly, a little part of myself.
"What are you doing spending money on anything else?! This is the most important thing in the world and you should be saving for more treatment!"
OK, first of all, we barely have enough money to be saving for treatment. On top of that, this is not just infertility - this is our lives. Part of surviving being child-free, especially if we are going to stay that way, is to have a fulfilling life outside of having children. In the past two-and-a-half years of TTC, we have traveled, visited friends, gone on day trips, and made a few larger purchases. Creating a happy life together is what keeps us sane. If I devoted every penny to fertility treatment, life wouldn't be good. We would be lonely homebodies who couldn't go out to dinner with family or visit friends in other cities. We couldn't have attended distant weddings or spontaneously decided to go out. And how about when all the treatments didn't work? Then we would have been miserable, miserly, lonely and it really may have stressed our marriage. The truth is - I don't regret living while we are infertile.
"Not having children wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."
Maybe it wouldn't, but it really isn't anyone's place to say this, and then again, maybe it would be the worst thing. Being forced to live child-free can put an immense strain on a marriage. And it's not like once we decided on this path, we would just forget that we ever wanted them. Our whole lives will be surrounded by people with children in a society that values family life and finds fulfillment in having children. We may be devastated for the rest of our lives. We may even be divorced. Based on how much C and I deeply love each other and how much we have always wanted and prepared for children, this really does seem like the worst thing in the world.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
PUPO
On the infertility boards, PUPO stands for "pregnant until proven otherwise." Once you have had your IUI or your IVF embryo transfer, all of the conditions are there for a pregnancy. Until we see that BFN stick, we like to think that we are PUPO.
This morning, the IUI went perfectly. Unfortunately, that doesn't provide too much relief because they have always gone perfectly and the RE has always made a point to say so. Aside from a painfully long wait at the outrageously busy RE's office, everything went well. C and I both had to have blood draws this time, another form of monitoring that is unique to the study and is not done in regular clinical practice. That's two vials for C and twenty-six vials of blood for me in the past fourteen days for anyone who is counting.
Luckily, the post-IUI cramping wasn't as bad this month as it has been in the past. I was slightly uncomfortable during and immediately after the procedure, but while we were getting lunch afterwards, it really started hurting. I went home afterwards and relaxed for a while which really helped and the cramps are almost 100% gone at this point. Uncomfortable as it was, it was nothing like the afternoon when I was doubled over in the parking lot of Walmart and had to run back to the car just to sit down and breathe...
According to my charts, I have one more ultrasound in a week, which is new to me, and then a beta blood draw in two weeks. It sounds to me like I will have a week free from monitoring!
As I have mentioned before, infertility often becomes all about counting and milestones. You cannot help but count how many cycles it has been, how many days since ovulation, how many years of TTC... It's a massive numbers game. This month's numbers are a perfect example.
This month marks exactly two-and-a-half years of TTC. It also marks exactly one year of being under the care of an RE. I can deal with these anniversaries, though. They have come and gone many times before - one year of TTC, two years of TTC, our last insured IUI cycle, etc.
There is something else that is a little bit sticky about this month's numbers. If this cycle is successful, our due date would be approximate June 14. That is exactly the end of the school year for teachers, including professional development and meeting days. I could miss no time from work, never miss a paycheck and spend ten weeks at home with the baby before even having to think about babysitters and daycare. The disability/maternity coverage at my work only covers six weeks at home and 60% of your pay. This month would be so ideal if I could bypass leave and disability altogether...
I am trying not to get pulled into this numbers game again this cycle. It only makes for painful disappointment and regret, but it's pretty much inevitable. I had always hoped for a Christmas baby in 2009, a June baby in 2010, a summer baby in 2011, now can June 2012 please be my chance?!
This morning, the IUI went perfectly. Unfortunately, that doesn't provide too much relief because they have always gone perfectly and the RE has always made a point to say so. Aside from a painfully long wait at the outrageously busy RE's office, everything went well. C and I both had to have blood draws this time, another form of monitoring that is unique to the study and is not done in regular clinical practice. That's two vials for C and twenty-six vials of blood for me in the past fourteen days for anyone who is counting.
Luckily, the post-IUI cramping wasn't as bad this month as it has been in the past. I was slightly uncomfortable during and immediately after the procedure, but while we were getting lunch afterwards, it really started hurting. I went home afterwards and relaxed for a while which really helped and the cramps are almost 100% gone at this point. Uncomfortable as it was, it was nothing like the afternoon when I was doubled over in the parking lot of Walmart and had to run back to the car just to sit down and breathe...
According to my charts, I have one more ultrasound in a week, which is new to me, and then a beta blood draw in two weeks. It sounds to me like I will have a week free from monitoring!
- - - - -
As I have mentioned before, infertility often becomes all about counting and milestones. You cannot help but count how many cycles it has been, how many days since ovulation, how many years of TTC... It's a massive numbers game. This month's numbers are a perfect example.
This month marks exactly two-and-a-half years of TTC. It also marks exactly one year of being under the care of an RE. I can deal with these anniversaries, though. They have come and gone many times before - one year of TTC, two years of TTC, our last insured IUI cycle, etc.
There is something else that is a little bit sticky about this month's numbers. If this cycle is successful, our due date would be approximate June 14. That is exactly the end of the school year for teachers, including professional development and meeting days. I could miss no time from work, never miss a paycheck and spend ten weeks at home with the baby before even having to think about babysitters and daycare. The disability/maternity coverage at my work only covers six weeks at home and 60% of your pay. This month would be so ideal if I could bypass leave and disability altogether...
I am trying not to get pulled into this numbers game again this cycle. It only makes for painful disappointment and regret, but it's pretty much inevitable. I had always hoped for a Christmas baby in 2009, a June baby in 2010, a summer baby in 2011, now can June 2012 please be my chance?!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Quick Trigger Update
I just wanted to poke in and say that the Pregnyl trigger was not nearly as bad as I had expected. The shot itself wasn't bad, but the dose itself stung a bit for about 10-15 minutes. I am still aware of it and it still feels really weird about a half-hour later, but all in all, it wasn't bad.
I knew that I was making a huge deal out of nothing and that it would be so bad, but what can I say, that's how I roll...
I knew that I was making a huge deal out of nothing and that it would be so bad, but what can I say, that's how I roll...
IUI on Saturday!
This morning was CD15 and I headed into the office yet again for another ultrasound and blood draw. Since I already had to show up late to work on Monday and Wednesday, I opted to have the ultrasound first thing in the morning, then go back later in the afternoon for the blood draw. I was able to get to work by 8am this morning, but that means that my bloodwork will not be available until tomorrow morning.
Despite the delay with the blood results, I got the call from the on-call RE at the downtown office that we could trigger tonight and schedule our IUI for Saturday morning. Unless something crazy happens with the bloodwork tomorrow and she calls me to indicate otherwise, this is the plan. I was so relieved, too. When I spoke to the study coordinator yesterday, she said that the IUI could be tomorrow or Saturday and I was really hoping that it wouldn't end up on Friday. I would have been really late to work, in addition to the three times this week I was already late.
Of course, there is another blood draw on the day of the IUI, but hopefully they will leave me alone for a while after that. C is also off this Saturday, so he will be able to come with me.
I am not going to lie, however - I am still totally freaking out over this intramuscular Pregnyl injection. I know that I am a big wuss, but it really freaks me out. I already called my cousin and she is coming over around 9pm this evening to give the shot, but I am already stressing. We'll see how it goes...
Despite the delay with the blood results, I got the call from the on-call RE at the downtown office that we could trigger tonight and schedule our IUI for Saturday morning. Unless something crazy happens with the bloodwork tomorrow and she calls me to indicate otherwise, this is the plan. I was so relieved, too. When I spoke to the study coordinator yesterday, she said that the IUI could be tomorrow or Saturday and I was really hoping that it wouldn't end up on Friday. I would have been really late to work, in addition to the three times this week I was already late.
Of course, there is another blood draw on the day of the IUI, but hopefully they will leave me alone for a while after that. C is also off this Saturday, so he will be able to come with me.
I am not going to lie, however - I am still totally freaking out over this intramuscular Pregnyl injection. I know that I am a big wuss, but it really freaks me out. I already called my cousin and she is coming over around 9pm this evening to give the shot, but I am already stressing. We'll see how it goes...
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
All this monitoring is killing me...
So far this week, I have been in to the downtown and suburban locations of the doctor's office four times, and I am due to go back tomorrow. The protocol for this study is so much more intense than the clinical protocol that we experienced six times before.
Each time I go in, I have to get an ultrasound and have a blood draw. Every. Damn. Time. For reasons that I can't quite explain, it has become really overwhelming, both physically and emotionally. Twice during this cycle as I was being whisked from one procedure to another, I just stood still and felt like crying. I don't know why - I just did. It's just too much.
There are two simultaneous phenomena in my life right now that I feel are trying to make me not myself. My job and infertility. There is a definite mood of paranoia at my job and my friends and colleagues are being suspended and disciplined left and right. People are terrified and are getting cagey. Normal old carefree me has become paranoid, too. The real me is calm, happy, extroverted and carefree. Lately, I have had trouble sleeping out of worry and the stress of missing so much work from the monitoring has me going crazy. I am constantly second-guessing myself and worrying. This just isn't me.
At the same time, the me that is stoic, strong and "tough as nails" is almost weeping alone in an exam room for no reason at all. I feel overwhelmed by treatment and the effect it could have on my job. My arms are bruised and sore from the constant blood draws and it is becoming harder and harder to find veins. A little voice in my head keeps saying, I don't want to do this anymore.
If this cycle doesn't work, there is no question that I am taking a break cycle. I am exhausted and I am worried about work. I have developed a cyst on the left ovary, and even though it isn't affecting my hormone levels, I want to give it some time to shrink down before cycling again.
It occurred to me this week that it has been almost exactly a year since we started this "part-time job" that is fertility treatment. A year ago, I was going in for testing and just a few weeks later, I began my first round of Clomid. So much has changed, and yet nothing has changed.
My attitude has changed. Even though I am still so happy with my life, my family and my marriage, there is a little piece of me that is a little bit darker, a little bit jaded and bitter. The nurse's assistants and the receptionists at both offices recognize me and ask me how I am doing. My dreams are less and less often about pregnancy and have drifted more in the direction of adopting.
But so much is the same. The drugs are the same, and the methods are the same as the ones that have failed six times before. The sameness sometimes feels like the world around me is moving while C and I are stuck standing still. As so many infertiles have said before me, the definition of insanity is to repeat the same actions, but expect a different result. I think this protocol has crossed the line into insanity - how many times does it have to fail before I just believe it and move on? Things are different and things are the same...
Each time I go in, I have to get an ultrasound and have a blood draw. Every. Damn. Time. For reasons that I can't quite explain, it has become really overwhelming, both physically and emotionally. Twice during this cycle as I was being whisked from one procedure to another, I just stood still and felt like crying. I don't know why - I just did. It's just too much.
There are two simultaneous phenomena in my life right now that I feel are trying to make me not myself. My job and infertility. There is a definite mood of paranoia at my job and my friends and colleagues are being suspended and disciplined left and right. People are terrified and are getting cagey. Normal old carefree me has become paranoid, too. The real me is calm, happy, extroverted and carefree. Lately, I have had trouble sleeping out of worry and the stress of missing so much work from the monitoring has me going crazy. I am constantly second-guessing myself and worrying. This just isn't me.
At the same time, the me that is stoic, strong and "tough as nails" is almost weeping alone in an exam room for no reason at all. I feel overwhelmed by treatment and the effect it could have on my job. My arms are bruised and sore from the constant blood draws and it is becoming harder and harder to find veins. A little voice in my head keeps saying, I don't want to do this anymore.
If this cycle doesn't work, there is no question that I am taking a break cycle. I am exhausted and I am worried about work. I have developed a cyst on the left ovary, and even though it isn't affecting my hormone levels, I want to give it some time to shrink down before cycling again.
- - - - -
It occurred to me this week that it has been almost exactly a year since we started this "part-time job" that is fertility treatment. A year ago, I was going in for testing and just a few weeks later, I began my first round of Clomid. So much has changed, and yet nothing has changed.
My attitude has changed. Even though I am still so happy with my life, my family and my marriage, there is a little piece of me that is a little bit darker, a little bit jaded and bitter. The nurse's assistants and the receptionists at both offices recognize me and ask me how I am doing. My dreams are less and less often about pregnancy and have drifted more in the direction of adopting.
But so much is the same. The drugs are the same, and the methods are the same as the ones that have failed six times before. The sameness sometimes feels like the world around me is moving while C and I are stuck standing still. As so many infertiles have said before me, the definition of insanity is to repeat the same actions, but expect a different result. I think this protocol has crossed the line into insanity - how many times does it have to fail before I just believe it and move on? Things are different and things are the same...
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Privacy
I have been thinking about privacy lately, really about what is considered human dignity. It is considered a basic human right that a person should be able to reproduce. Even in cases when a person is unfit to raise their children, they retain that right, sometimes even in ridiculous circumstances. I can recall countless occasions when I was outraged to see that a parent maintained rights to their children, even in cases of gross neglect and abuse. So this is the stance of the world today - that a person is afforded a basic human right to have children, as many as they see fit, and to raise them as they see fit and a person is afforded much privacy in how they choose to carry out this plan (or lack of plan).
As soon as I walked into a doctor's office and uttered the words, "I can't get pregnant," these basic human dignities, rights and privacies slowly began to disappear, one by one. First, nature deprived me of that right to have a child. In the coming months, I was poked, prodded and analyzed. Suddenly, it wasn't so cut and dry. Whether or not I was allowed to conceive with the help of ART depended on my insurance, my finances, and even my weight.
During the course of this study, I am required to keep a daily log of things that are incredibly personal - everything from what my flow is like to when I have sex with my husband. It's so surreal and uncomfortable to carry this packet around, not because I am embarassed or ashamed, but because I, through a twist of nature, have to hand in papers that reveal the inner-most information about us.
I have been researching adoption for years, and this process is just as grueling. The applications require that I disclose my background, my savings, my credit history, my health, my infertility. Again, I am putting my private life out there on paper for someone else to decide.
I can deal with nature's unfairness - it is inherent and it is everywhere. It is unfair that some people can have ten children and that some can't have any. It is unfair that some people get cancer and some people do not. It is unfair that some people spend their lives disabled, disfigured, ill, and I understand that. But the human side of this is the most difficult.
If a woman's ovaries and uterus function normally, she is afforded the right to privacy, and the right to reproduce, and the right to end a pregnancy, and the right to create a child in a private act of love. If a woman's ovaries and uterus do not function normally, all of that disappears. Then, it is up to someone else. Either an insurance adjuster, or an RE, or a social worker, or an adoption agency, or a loan officer. It's not up to her anymore.
I know that there aren't any easy answers, and I don't even know how I feel about some of the political agendas of the infertility community. All I know is that I wish someone was working as vigorously for me to have a child as others are out there working for an unfit mother to keep hers. And I wish that someone defended my right to have a pregnancy as passionately as others defend the life of an unwanted one. I know these sound like heavy words, and I am not at all trying to open a discussion about these particular political agendas. I'm not suggesting that those particular individuals and movements shouldn't have advocates, I just feel like maybe we deserve the same representation...
As soon as I walked into a doctor's office and uttered the words, "I can't get pregnant," these basic human dignities, rights and privacies slowly began to disappear, one by one. First, nature deprived me of that right to have a child. In the coming months, I was poked, prodded and analyzed. Suddenly, it wasn't so cut and dry. Whether or not I was allowed to conceive with the help of ART depended on my insurance, my finances, and even my weight.
During the course of this study, I am required to keep a daily log of things that are incredibly personal - everything from what my flow is like to when I have sex with my husband. It's so surreal and uncomfortable to carry this packet around, not because I am embarassed or ashamed, but because I, through a twist of nature, have to hand in papers that reveal the inner-most information about us.
I have been researching adoption for years, and this process is just as grueling. The applications require that I disclose my background, my savings, my credit history, my health, my infertility. Again, I am putting my private life out there on paper for someone else to decide.
I can deal with nature's unfairness - it is inherent and it is everywhere. It is unfair that some people can have ten children and that some can't have any. It is unfair that some people get cancer and some people do not. It is unfair that some people spend their lives disabled, disfigured, ill, and I understand that. But the human side of this is the most difficult.
If a woman's ovaries and uterus function normally, she is afforded the right to privacy, and the right to reproduce, and the right to end a pregnancy, and the right to create a child in a private act of love. If a woman's ovaries and uterus do not function normally, all of that disappears. Then, it is up to someone else. Either an insurance adjuster, or an RE, or a social worker, or an adoption agency, or a loan officer. It's not up to her anymore.
I know that there aren't any easy answers, and I don't even know how I feel about some of the political agendas of the infertility community. All I know is that I wish someone was working as vigorously for me to have a child as others are out there working for an unfit mother to keep hers. And I wish that someone defended my right to have a pregnancy as passionately as others defend the life of an unwanted one. I know these sound like heavy words, and I am not at all trying to open a discussion about these particular political agendas. I'm not suggesting that those particular individuals and movements shouldn't have advocates, I just feel like maybe we deserve the same representation...
Thursday, September 15, 2011
A New Outlook...
Two weeks ago, my summer vacation officially ended and I had to return to school for a few days of professional development and teacher in-service. Those first few days were busy and hectic. We had so many meetings scheduled that we had very little time to get organized and prepare our classrooms. Even more, my team has been completely restructured and four of the six teachers have never taught middle school before.
The following week, the kids returned to class. Those first two weeks were a little anxious. At a given time, I was stressing about preparing my new co-teachers, wondering how the kids would be, worrying about a new schedule that included another section of science, and fixating on how I could possibly continue treatment under this new arrangement.
Thankfully, and as I always knew deep down that they would, each of these fears has shrunk beyond recognition in the past few weeks. As it turns out, my new partner and I are a great match and teaching with her has been a pleasure. I am finding that I am actually less stressed and squeezed for time teaching five classes with her this year than teaching four by myself in the past. My new co-teachers have a wonderful attitude and are picking up on our routines really swiftly, and they are quickly becoming friends. Most importantly, the schedule has been changed after an oversight from my supervisor and I now have more flexibility in the mornings for fertility appointments.
On top of these little victories at work, life just feels more balanced at home lately, too. C has finally spoken to his doctor about his anxiety and started taking anti-anxiety medication. He had been getting so much better in the past few years, but lately it has really been dragging him down. He hasn't been feeling himself and even had an anxiety attack recently that was quite a wake-up call for both of us. Since getting acclimated with the new prescription, he feels much happier, and I feel so much happier spending time with him.
I have always known that I was born to work, specifically to teach, and that my brain and body just don't function properly without a full day of work. Last summer, I made a conscious effort to do as many things as possible and accepted every invitation that I received. I visited friends, traveled and really lived it up. I knew that I had to do this for my own mental health, but I also discreetly hoped that this would be my last childless summer. Obviously, that was not the case.
This summer, I had nothing lined up other than more treatment. Knowing this, I signed up to teach summer school. Finances were tight this summer, however, and I wouldn't receive money for the summer school hours until September. We had no money to do all the things we had done last summer, and C had no time off, so I spent most of the summer just hanging out at home. This totally derailed me. Even though I didn't feel depressed, I was doing absolutely nothing other than watching countless reruns of Law and Order and Millionaire Matchmaker. When I was rewatching episodes of Matchmaker and Jersey Shore that I had already seen, I knew that I officially was not myself.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed just relaxing and recuperating this summer and making a little money for teaching and tutoring, but I felt like I was wasting time. All of that free time just allowed me to think about treatment, about problems and about what I would be doing if there were a baby in the house. Obviously, this wasn't very healthy.
Now that I am back at work, I actually feel refreshed to be using my brain again and doing a day's work. When I come home each day, I am appropriately tired and ready to just relax, have dinner and enjoy my evenings with C. He is happier, I am happier, and I have a healthy diversion from all that wallowing.
I am hopeful for these new cycles with the research study, but I am also trying to find joy in opportunities and find fulfillment in our life without children. Right now, C is in a motorcycle course and we just got last minute tickets to a Phillies game for Sunday. Last night, I had to stay at work until 9pm and I enjoyed dinner with my colleagues instead of rushing home. Now that I finally got paid for teaching summer school, I am even thinking about some weekend adventures in the next few weeks. Living child-free permanently is not an option we are willing to consider, but for the time being, I am truly happy. I never was unhappy this summer, but I feel better - more energized, more fulfilled. It's amazing what a little hard work will do...
The following week, the kids returned to class. Those first two weeks were a little anxious. At a given time, I was stressing about preparing my new co-teachers, wondering how the kids would be, worrying about a new schedule that included another section of science, and fixating on how I could possibly continue treatment under this new arrangement.
Thankfully, and as I always knew deep down that they would, each of these fears has shrunk beyond recognition in the past few weeks. As it turns out, my new partner and I are a great match and teaching with her has been a pleasure. I am finding that I am actually less stressed and squeezed for time teaching five classes with her this year than teaching four by myself in the past. My new co-teachers have a wonderful attitude and are picking up on our routines really swiftly, and they are quickly becoming friends. Most importantly, the schedule has been changed after an oversight from my supervisor and I now have more flexibility in the mornings for fertility appointments.
On top of these little victories at work, life just feels more balanced at home lately, too. C has finally spoken to his doctor about his anxiety and started taking anti-anxiety medication. He had been getting so much better in the past few years, but lately it has really been dragging him down. He hasn't been feeling himself and even had an anxiety attack recently that was quite a wake-up call for both of us. Since getting acclimated with the new prescription, he feels much happier, and I feel so much happier spending time with him.
I have always known that I was born to work, specifically to teach, and that my brain and body just don't function properly without a full day of work. Last summer, I made a conscious effort to do as many things as possible and accepted every invitation that I received. I visited friends, traveled and really lived it up. I knew that I had to do this for my own mental health, but I also discreetly hoped that this would be my last childless summer. Obviously, that was not the case.
This summer, I had nothing lined up other than more treatment. Knowing this, I signed up to teach summer school. Finances were tight this summer, however, and I wouldn't receive money for the summer school hours until September. We had no money to do all the things we had done last summer, and C had no time off, so I spent most of the summer just hanging out at home. This totally derailed me. Even though I didn't feel depressed, I was doing absolutely nothing other than watching countless reruns of Law and Order and Millionaire Matchmaker. When I was rewatching episodes of Matchmaker and Jersey Shore that I had already seen, I knew that I officially was not myself.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed just relaxing and recuperating this summer and making a little money for teaching and tutoring, but I felt like I was wasting time. All of that free time just allowed me to think about treatment, about problems and about what I would be doing if there were a baby in the house. Obviously, this wasn't very healthy.
Now that I am back at work, I actually feel refreshed to be using my brain again and doing a day's work. When I come home each day, I am appropriately tired and ready to just relax, have dinner and enjoy my evenings with C. He is happier, I am happier, and I have a healthy diversion from all that wallowing.
I am hopeful for these new cycles with the research study, but I am also trying to find joy in opportunities and find fulfillment in our life without children. Right now, C is in a motorcycle course and we just got last minute tickets to a Phillies game for Sunday. Last night, I had to stay at work until 9pm and I enjoyed dinner with my colleagues instead of rushing home. Now that I finally got paid for teaching summer school, I am even thinking about some weekend adventures in the next few weeks. Living child-free permanently is not an option we are willing to consider, but for the time being, I am truly happy. I never was unhappy this summer, but I feel better - more energized, more fulfilled. It's amazing what a little hard work will do...
Monday, September 12, 2011
Here we go again!
On Friday afternoon, I got the calls from the nurses and REs at PMFC that all of the tests from those copious blood draws and the ultrasound were normal. Luckily, the tiny cyst on the left ovary did not cause a hormone imbalance and we were given the OK to start with the study meds.
The study coordinator told me to return the next day, Saturday morning, to pick up my daily study diary and my study meds. She explained the the study does not use the subcutaneous Ovidrel trigger that I have always used, but instead an intermuscular Pregnyl shot in the buttock. She said that you cannot administer this shot to yourself and that I had to bring either C or someone else to be trained on mixing and the correct procedure. Oh, boy...
Since C was working and wasn't too comfortable with this idea anyway, I brought my cousin, a DO resident with me. When we arrived, I found out that I had been randomized into the pill group, much to my dismay. While a tiny part of me is always relieved to receive fewer needles, I had really hoped that this would be our opportunity to try Menopur without the hefty price tag. As it turns out, I will be taking either Clomid or Femara again in the same dosage. Hopefully, if my follicle development continues to be so slow and consistently one follicle, they will up the dosage to improve our chances for success.
The training on the trigger shot really freaked me out, but I am getting a little better about it. Jean showed us how we would have to mix the powder trigger with a solvent, switching between mixing needles and injection needles. Seeing the one-and-a-half inch trigger needle didn't really sit well, either.
My cousin has a genuine interest in all of this given that a) it's not her buttock getting jabbed and b) she is a doctor. She asked the obvious question, why use the IM Pregnyl instead of the sub-Q Ovidrel? The nurses response was less than satisfying. She explained that in the past, all fertility meds were IM, but that more recently, researchers have found ways to make them sub-Q. Ovidrel and Pregnyl are really the same drug with the same efficacy, but that the Pregnyl is much cheaper for the study to purchase massive quantities, and it does not need to be refrigerated.
Gee, thanks. My stomach is doing cartwheels right now because Pregnyl is cheaper? A little part of me wanted to secretly run out and buy my last prescription for Ovidrel, but obviously, that is ridiculous. The only redeeming part about getting a shot in your buttock instead of the belly is that I don't have to look and I don't have to see it coming...
Right now, it is CD5 and I am two days into taking the mystery pills. I have to return to the RE in the next few days, but luckily, she allowed me to choose CD10 which falls on this Saturday the 17th. Since my follicles have always been slow to develop, I am sure that I will have to go back on CD12 and CD14 and that these will fall on workdays, but at least I will most likely be able to go to the suburban location, then just zip off to work. We shall soon see!
The study coordinator told me to return the next day, Saturday morning, to pick up my daily study diary and my study meds. She explained the the study does not use the subcutaneous Ovidrel trigger that I have always used, but instead an intermuscular Pregnyl shot in the buttock. She said that you cannot administer this shot to yourself and that I had to bring either C or someone else to be trained on mixing and the correct procedure. Oh, boy...
Since C was working and wasn't too comfortable with this idea anyway, I brought my cousin, a DO resident with me. When we arrived, I found out that I had been randomized into the pill group, much to my dismay. While a tiny part of me is always relieved to receive fewer needles, I had really hoped that this would be our opportunity to try Menopur without the hefty price tag. As it turns out, I will be taking either Clomid or Femara again in the same dosage. Hopefully, if my follicle development continues to be so slow and consistently one follicle, they will up the dosage to improve our chances for success.
The training on the trigger shot really freaked me out, but I am getting a little better about it. Jean showed us how we would have to mix the powder trigger with a solvent, switching between mixing needles and injection needles. Seeing the one-and-a-half inch trigger needle didn't really sit well, either.
My cousin has a genuine interest in all of this given that a) it's not her buttock getting jabbed and b) she is a doctor. She asked the obvious question, why use the IM Pregnyl instead of the sub-Q Ovidrel? The nurses response was less than satisfying. She explained that in the past, all fertility meds were IM, but that more recently, researchers have found ways to make them sub-Q. Ovidrel and Pregnyl are really the same drug with the same efficacy, but that the Pregnyl is much cheaper for the study to purchase massive quantities, and it does not need to be refrigerated.
Gee, thanks. My stomach is doing cartwheels right now because Pregnyl is cheaper? A little part of me wanted to secretly run out and buy my last prescription for Ovidrel, but obviously, that is ridiculous. The only redeeming part about getting a shot in your buttock instead of the belly is that I don't have to look and I don't have to see it coming...
Right now, it is CD5 and I am two days into taking the mystery pills. I have to return to the RE in the next few days, but luckily, she allowed me to choose CD10 which falls on this Saturday the 17th. Since my follicles have always been slow to develop, I am sure that I will have to go back on CD12 and CD14 and that these will fall on workdays, but at least I will most likely be able to go to the suburban location, then just zip off to work. We shall soon see!
Friday, September 9, 2011
A whirlwind of a morning...
This morning I had to go to the downtown office for the final screening and baseline ultrasound to finally begin meds for the study. The research coordinator was kind enough to let me come in at 7:15 and she ran around like a lunatic the whole time trying to rush everything so I could get back to work!
I had to leave the house at 6:45 this morning, but I was very proud of myself that I made it there on time! You can imagine how pleased C was to be up at 6:30 producing a sample...
When I got there, I had to fill in a bunch of paperwork regarding C's sample, then I started work on the sixty page questionnaire. I was told to carry the clipboard around with me everywhere I went so that I could work on it every time there was a lull.
In all, I was at the office from 7:15 until about 8:30. In that amount of time, I had the following:
My nurse also explained that the study protocol does not use a subcutaneous ovulation trigger like Ovidrel, so I would need to bring either C or someone else to be trained on how to deliver the intramuscular trigger into the buttock. Oh, dear.
Since C is working tomorrow and I'm not sure how I feel (or how he feels) about him delivering an IM injection, I opted to bring my cousin in her medical residency with me instead. She has done several of my trigger shots and she lives right around the corner, so I figured this was better in the long run anyway.
I received the calls this afternoon that all of the hormone levels in the blood sample were normal, despite the tiny cyst on my left ovary. All of my other levels were normal (lipids, electrolytes, and a whole bunch of other stuff I have never heard of or had tested before), so we are a go for tomorrow morning. At our next meeting, I will find out which meds have been randomized to me and pick up all of the meds, most likely starting them tomorrow.
Even though I had to cancel some IUIs in the past, this is our seventh medicated cycle. Let's hope this is lucky number seven! Here we go!
I had to leave the house at 6:45 this morning, but I was very proud of myself that I made it there on time! You can imagine how pleased C was to be up at 6:30 producing a sample...
When I got there, I had to fill in a bunch of paperwork regarding C's sample, then I started work on the sixty page questionnaire. I was told to carry the clipboard around with me everywhere I went so that I could work on it every time there was a lull.
In all, I was at the office from 7:15 until about 8:30. In that amount of time, I had the following:
- A full physical, including height, weight, waist and hip measurements, blood pressure screening, a pap smear, cervical examination and a breast exam.
- The baseline ultrasound, lining check and follicle count.
- A sebum test that measured the oils on my forehead with a sensor. (Yeah, I found this confusing, too...)
- A blood draw that included twelve vials of blood.
- Tons of paperwork.
My nurse also explained that the study protocol does not use a subcutaneous ovulation trigger like Ovidrel, so I would need to bring either C or someone else to be trained on how to deliver the intramuscular trigger into the buttock. Oh, dear.
Since C is working tomorrow and I'm not sure how I feel (or how he feels) about him delivering an IM injection, I opted to bring my cousin in her medical residency with me instead. She has done several of my trigger shots and she lives right around the corner, so I figured this was better in the long run anyway.
I received the calls this afternoon that all of the hormone levels in the blood sample were normal, despite the tiny cyst on my left ovary. All of my other levels were normal (lipids, electrolytes, and a whole bunch of other stuff I have never heard of or had tested before), so we are a go for tomorrow morning. At our next meeting, I will find out which meds have been randomized to me and pick up all of the meds, most likely starting them tomorrow.
Even though I had to cancel some IUIs in the past, this is our seventh medicated cycle. Let's hope this is lucky number seven! Here we go!
Thursday, September 8, 2011
It looks like this is a go!
After some phone tag yesterday afternoon, I was able to get a hold of the study coordinator this morning. To my surprise, there is more paperwork and a questionnaire for me and C, so she asked that I come in tomorrow rather than Saturday. She was kind enough to make me an ultrasound appointment for 7:30 and even offered to come in at 7:15 so that I can get back to work as quickly as possible.
Tomorrow, I will meet with the study coordinator to finish up the paperwork, then get several vials of blood drawn (yikes!) and my CD2 baseline ultrasound. As I mentioned before, the monitoring during this study is much more frequent and more thorough than in typical clinical practice, so they will be testing all sorts of hormonal levels in the blood, as well as including our anonymous DNA in further studies of infertility. (Yikes again!)
After they determine once and for all that we are eligible for the study, we will be randomized and assigned our meds tomorrow afternoon. I will most likely have to return to the office on Saturday to pick up the meds and submit C's questionnaire.
Much to C's horror, however, his semen analysis results expired at the end of last month. We were just informed today that he would have to produce another sample for tomorrow. Initially, we thought he would have to come to the appointment with me and call into work late, but it now seems that our study coordinator has gone out of her way to be super accommodating again! He will still have to provide a sample, but as long as it is accompanied by a copy of his driver's license and a signed note, he doesn't have to come in!
So far, working with the coordinators and REs in this study has been a pleasure. I hope this is the ticket to our sticky BFP!
Tomorrow, I will meet with the study coordinator to finish up the paperwork, then get several vials of blood drawn (yikes!) and my CD2 baseline ultrasound. As I mentioned before, the monitoring during this study is much more frequent and more thorough than in typical clinical practice, so they will be testing all sorts of hormonal levels in the blood, as well as including our anonymous DNA in further studies of infertility. (Yikes again!)
After they determine once and for all that we are eligible for the study, we will be randomized and assigned our meds tomorrow afternoon. I will most likely have to return to the office on Saturday to pick up the meds and submit C's questionnaire.
Much to C's horror, however, his semen analysis results expired at the end of last month. We were just informed today that he would have to produce another sample for tomorrow. Initially, we thought he would have to come to the appointment with me and call into work late, but it now seems that our study coordinator has gone out of her way to be super accommodating again! He will still have to provide a sample, but as long as it is accompanied by a copy of his driver's license and a signed note, he doesn't have to come in!
So far, working with the coordinators and REs in this study has been a pleasure. I hope this is the ticket to our sticky BFP!
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Well, that was fun...
Just as I suspected, but tried to deny, it's officially over and a new cycle has begun...
This afternoon, when I became *aware* of the situation, I called the study coordinator to try to get the ball rolling for a September cycle. We missed each other this afternoon, so I will call her again in the morning, hopefully to set up a CD3 baseline ultrasound for Saturday morning.
Onwards to better news, my boss flew into my classroom absolutely frantic this morning because she overbooked the gym with three simultaneous classes. She asked if we wouldn't mind switching our rotating prep/special period to first instead of third. I gave an enthusiastic yes.
This means that I will have a free period first thing each morning, which is awesome for my convenience in planning and prepping, but it also means that I can come in late sometimes if need be for study appointments! We are already two days into school and the kids have already been given their schedules, so this was completely unexpected, but I am so happy.
The stress and anxiety about whether or not we would be able to cycle was killing me lately, but I am feeling a lot better today. Even if they want to be sticklers about the schedule, I have more than 20 sick days they can start docking if they want. This is something I need to do, and I am really excited that I will have the opportunity!
This afternoon, when I became *aware* of the situation, I called the study coordinator to try to get the ball rolling for a September cycle. We missed each other this afternoon, so I will call her again in the morning, hopefully to set up a CD3 baseline ultrasound for Saturday morning.
Onwards to better news, my boss flew into my classroom absolutely frantic this morning because she overbooked the gym with three simultaneous classes. She asked if we wouldn't mind switching our rotating prep/special period to first instead of third. I gave an enthusiastic yes.
This means that I will have a free period first thing each morning, which is awesome for my convenience in planning and prepping, but it also means that I can come in late sometimes if need be for study appointments! We are already two days into school and the kids have already been given their schedules, so this was completely unexpected, but I am so happy.
The stress and anxiety about whether or not we would be able to cycle was killing me lately, but I am feeling a lot better today. Even if they want to be sticklers about the schedule, I have more than 20 sick days they can start docking if they want. This is something I need to do, and I am really excited that I will have the opportunity!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Seriously, WTF?
This cycle has been insane.
As I mentioned before, my cycles have been running almost exactly 28 days for years, so when I hit CD31, I tested and it was a stark white BFN. I figured that a period would be right around the corner, so I just rolled with it and waited for the inevitable...
Now it is the evening of CD35, roughly 5-7 days late. I decided yesterday that I would test again since I was so late, but that I would just use a dollar store cheapie HPT. I stopped and picked up tests yesterday evening and figured that I would test this morning, figuring that AF might show her ugly face by morning anyway.
I woke up early this morning and tested - BFN. More than 12 hours later, still no sign of AF.
Excuse the phrase, but this cycle is a total mindf@ck. I know that irregular cycles are certainly common in the IF community, but this has never been the case for me. It is really throwing me for a loop that I am now experiencing a problem, a symptom, that I have never had before. Maybe I am overreacting...
I am just afraid that this is the end of the road for a while when this cycle finally ends. Today was the first day of school and it was very apparent how much the other five teachers all rely on me, and my boss has been pretty abrupt and overly-frantic about her responsibilities lately. The more we discuss it, the more C and I think that we will not be able to participate in this study. We have also been crunching the numbers lately and an OOP injectible/IUI cycle is looking less and less possible.
Even though every moment in this journey has been difficult, this really feels like the most hopeless point yet so far. I am trying to stay hopeful, but I really feel like we are out of feasible options right now.
I honestly do not know what to do next, and even if we can devise a plan, I do not know when we would actually be able to try. This just sucks.
As I mentioned before, my cycles have been running almost exactly 28 days for years, so when I hit CD31, I tested and it was a stark white BFN. I figured that a period would be right around the corner, so I just rolled with it and waited for the inevitable...
Now it is the evening of CD35, roughly 5-7 days late. I decided yesterday that I would test again since I was so late, but that I would just use a dollar store cheapie HPT. I stopped and picked up tests yesterday evening and figured that I would test this morning, figuring that AF might show her ugly face by morning anyway.
I woke up early this morning and tested - BFN. More than 12 hours later, still no sign of AF.
Excuse the phrase, but this cycle is a total mindf@ck. I know that irregular cycles are certainly common in the IF community, but this has never been the case for me. It is really throwing me for a loop that I am now experiencing a problem, a symptom, that I have never had before. Maybe I am overreacting...
I am just afraid that this is the end of the road for a while when this cycle finally ends. Today was the first day of school and it was very apparent how much the other five teachers all rely on me, and my boss has been pretty abrupt and overly-frantic about her responsibilities lately. The more we discuss it, the more C and I think that we will not be able to participate in this study. We have also been crunching the numbers lately and an OOP injectible/IUI cycle is looking less and less possible.
Even though every moment in this journey has been difficult, this really feels like the most hopeless point yet so far. I am trying to stay hopeful, but I really feel like we are out of feasible options right now.
I honestly do not know what to do next, and even if we can devise a plan, I do not know when we would actually be able to try. This just sucks.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Many Different Levels of Bored...
I know that it is rare for me to post twice in one day, but I feel like now is the perfect time to write about another thing that has been complicating things for me lately - boredom.
For the past few months, I have been crazy bored in several different ways, and it is really beginning to cause some tension here between me and C. Now, don't get me wrong - I am very happy in my marriage and I think that C and I really do have a pretty healthy relationship 90% of the time. Infertility, however, has brought one of our little tensions to the surface and has really inflated the issue so that it is beginning to cause some problems.
Since the beginning, I have always been hyper-social and I really enjoy being in the company of family and friends as often as possible. Just to illustrate, I think of the dorm arrangement in college as being my ideal living situation. I used to leave my door open just for people to pop their heads in and hang out, and I was one of only ten seniors who chose to live in a multiple occupancy room with two friends. (Nearly everyone opted for singles.) Of course, I do enjoy spending time with just C often, but I really like to socialize.
C is very different. He finds social situations stressful sometimes and is very happy to spend most of his free time at home. He has several hobbies that mostly relegate him to the basement family room of our house, including video gaming and bass guitar.
Sometimes, this arrangement works really perfectly. We have time together, such as dinner, social occasions and some of our silly TV shows together, but we also have separate hobbies that keep us sane. Lately, however, the balance has been lost and it is causing me some real stress, as well as some really stupid arguments in our relationship.
I feel like I am bored on two levels. One way is that which I have already addressed - the boredom of having nothing to do. While C is happy hanging out in the basement, I am going stir-crazy upstairs. This problem is intensified by some recent changes in our lives, like my summer vacation, our strained finances and a few friends moving away. Work has been rolling in a little more slowly at C's shop and I don't really have tutoring clients over the summer, so we had to cancel some of our planned outings this summer. I also had a few friends move away to begin graduate programs this year, many of my friends are new moms, and it seems that most of my social circle that is left is not as sociable as I am.
On top of this surface level boredom, I feel like I am just bored with the trajectory of our lives right now. I really thought that we would be parents by now, and even a year ago when we began treatment, there was some excitement and hope about what the future held. I feel like our treatment options have stagnated and I am stuck here with nothing to do and not much to look forward to.
Obviously, I feel like we are ready for a child, not just in our relationship but even time wise. I understand that there is no way to anticipate the actual responsibilities of parenthood, but I really feel bored and unchallenged without it.
Each day, I get home from work nearly three hours before C. There is only so much cleaning and scrapbooking one can do before the boredom becomes overwhelming. Aside from weekly dinner at my mom's house and my Zumba class, my life has become so dull. I felt like every moment of mine and C's life together was leading up to something so far - finishing college, finishing grad school, finding a job, finding an apartment, buying a house, planning a wedding - and now we're just... here. We're not progressing. We are working towards something, but we're no closer now than we were two-and-a-half years ago.
I am reflecting on what I have just written, and I am not even sure that it makes sense. I am literally bored, as in C didn't want to watch a movie tonight and he didn't want to leave the house. I haven't been out with friends in weeks. But I am also "life-bored." I am still crazy-in-love with my husband and I look forward to our time together, but I just yearn for being a mom and socializing more. I know that it is ridiculous to attach all of my problems to infertility, but these feelings are just so not me. I just want to be a busy mom...
For the past few months, I have been crazy bored in several different ways, and it is really beginning to cause some tension here between me and C. Now, don't get me wrong - I am very happy in my marriage and I think that C and I really do have a pretty healthy relationship 90% of the time. Infertility, however, has brought one of our little tensions to the surface and has really inflated the issue so that it is beginning to cause some problems.
Since the beginning, I have always been hyper-social and I really enjoy being in the company of family and friends as often as possible. Just to illustrate, I think of the dorm arrangement in college as being my ideal living situation. I used to leave my door open just for people to pop their heads in and hang out, and I was one of only ten seniors who chose to live in a multiple occupancy room with two friends. (Nearly everyone opted for singles.) Of course, I do enjoy spending time with just C often, but I really like to socialize.
C is very different. He finds social situations stressful sometimes and is very happy to spend most of his free time at home. He has several hobbies that mostly relegate him to the basement family room of our house, including video gaming and bass guitar.
Sometimes, this arrangement works really perfectly. We have time together, such as dinner, social occasions and some of our silly TV shows together, but we also have separate hobbies that keep us sane. Lately, however, the balance has been lost and it is causing me some real stress, as well as some really stupid arguments in our relationship.
I feel like I am bored on two levels. One way is that which I have already addressed - the boredom of having nothing to do. While C is happy hanging out in the basement, I am going stir-crazy upstairs. This problem is intensified by some recent changes in our lives, like my summer vacation, our strained finances and a few friends moving away. Work has been rolling in a little more slowly at C's shop and I don't really have tutoring clients over the summer, so we had to cancel some of our planned outings this summer. I also had a few friends move away to begin graduate programs this year, many of my friends are new moms, and it seems that most of my social circle that is left is not as sociable as I am.
On top of this surface level boredom, I feel like I am just bored with the trajectory of our lives right now. I really thought that we would be parents by now, and even a year ago when we began treatment, there was some excitement and hope about what the future held. I feel like our treatment options have stagnated and I am stuck here with nothing to do and not much to look forward to.
Obviously, I feel like we are ready for a child, not just in our relationship but even time wise. I understand that there is no way to anticipate the actual responsibilities of parenthood, but I really feel bored and unchallenged without it.
Each day, I get home from work nearly three hours before C. There is only so much cleaning and scrapbooking one can do before the boredom becomes overwhelming. Aside from weekly dinner at my mom's house and my Zumba class, my life has become so dull. I felt like every moment of mine and C's life together was leading up to something so far - finishing college, finishing grad school, finding a job, finding an apartment, buying a house, planning a wedding - and now we're just... here. We're not progressing. We are working towards something, but we're no closer now than we were two-and-a-half years ago.
I am reflecting on what I have just written, and I am not even sure that it makes sense. I am literally bored, as in C didn't want to watch a movie tonight and he didn't want to leave the house. I haven't been out with friends in weeks. But I am also "life-bored." I am still crazy-in-love with my husband and I look forward to our time together, but I just yearn for being a mom and socializing more. I know that it is ridiculous to attach all of my problems to infertility, but these feelings are just so not me. I just want to be a busy mom...
The waiting game continues...
Right now, it is mid-morning on CD33. This is highly unusual for me given that the one thing I have never had to worry about was regularity in cycles. This is running a little long...
Because I am normally so regular, I tested on Friday morning when I was just 2-3 days late according to the timeframe of a typical medicated cycle. BFN. Stark white. I figured I would begin a new cycle that day or the next and I would give the study coordinator a call to tell her that the new cycle has begun and to possibly arrange my first baseline ultrasound.
But a new cycle has not started yet. I keep reminding myself that this is not a typical medicated cycle, as I never triggered so that I could be "clean" for the study. The trigger generally causes me to ovulate around CD15-16, and in a normal unmedicated cycle, the best we could figure was around CD18-19. When taking Femara, however, the luteal phase seemed to be cut short by almost 2-3 days, which, again, was pretty shocking considering the normal regularity of my cycle.
What does this all mean? Since I did take a low-dose of Femara this cycle, would the luteal phase be shortened and I really am late, despite the BFN? Is the cycle running long because I never triggered and this really is nothing unusual and I should just believe the BFN?
In my previous post, I discussed a bit about this headgame of the 2ww - how you are bracing yourself for the inevitable disappointment while simultaneously pulsing with optimism and reading into every sign. This extended cycle is making the head games even worse. I can't help but dwell on the fact that I have had life-long clockwork cycles, and yet I am suddenly late. Then again, it is so unlikely to have success with a half-assed cycle with no trigger and no IUI. And, hello, how can I forget about the BFN??
Perhaps the reason why this particular waiting game is so difficult is because of the finality of it. This truly is our last cycle on our terms. This is the last cycle that is with Dr. K at PMRFC. This is the last cycle that is covered by insurance. This is the last cycle that was on our terms with just a few monitoring appointments per month. Even though it is so unlikely that this cycle would be our BFP, it might be the hardest to accept.
If/when the new cycle begins, I will most likely call the study coordinator and begin making arrangements for the month of September. We won't know which meds have been selected until we are there and we are facing several more monitoring appointments this month than in the past, many of which will have to be downtown. I will have to talk to my boss about whether or not this is feasible, which will also be more difficult given the culture at work lately. Everyone is in survival mode and the boss's attitude has really sucked, to be honest. Three people received disciplinary action last week for absolutely ridiculous reasons. And in the midst of this time, I have to walk into the office and request eight latenesses per month.
I am really not looking forward to this process, nor am I looking forward to an OOP cycle that would be much more convenient, but much more expensive. Maybe that's why I am obsessing over the near-impossible this cycle. The reality of the future is so daunting and difficult that it is really hard to let go of the present. As much as my heart is holding onto hope for this cycle, don't be surprised if the next post is titled, "BFN..."
Because I am normally so regular, I tested on Friday morning when I was just 2-3 days late according to the timeframe of a typical medicated cycle. BFN. Stark white. I figured I would begin a new cycle that day or the next and I would give the study coordinator a call to tell her that the new cycle has begun and to possibly arrange my first baseline ultrasound.
But a new cycle has not started yet. I keep reminding myself that this is not a typical medicated cycle, as I never triggered so that I could be "clean" for the study. The trigger generally causes me to ovulate around CD15-16, and in a normal unmedicated cycle, the best we could figure was around CD18-19. When taking Femara, however, the luteal phase seemed to be cut short by almost 2-3 days, which, again, was pretty shocking considering the normal regularity of my cycle.
What does this all mean? Since I did take a low-dose of Femara this cycle, would the luteal phase be shortened and I really am late, despite the BFN? Is the cycle running long because I never triggered and this really is nothing unusual and I should just believe the BFN?
In my previous post, I discussed a bit about this headgame of the 2ww - how you are bracing yourself for the inevitable disappointment while simultaneously pulsing with optimism and reading into every sign. This extended cycle is making the head games even worse. I can't help but dwell on the fact that I have had life-long clockwork cycles, and yet I am suddenly late. Then again, it is so unlikely to have success with a half-assed cycle with no trigger and no IUI. And, hello, how can I forget about the BFN??
Perhaps the reason why this particular waiting game is so difficult is because of the finality of it. This truly is our last cycle on our terms. This is the last cycle that is with Dr. K at PMRFC. This is the last cycle that is covered by insurance. This is the last cycle that was on our terms with just a few monitoring appointments per month. Even though it is so unlikely that this cycle would be our BFP, it might be the hardest to accept.
If/when the new cycle begins, I will most likely call the study coordinator and begin making arrangements for the month of September. We won't know which meds have been selected until we are there and we are facing several more monitoring appointments this month than in the past, many of which will have to be downtown. I will have to talk to my boss about whether or not this is feasible, which will also be more difficult given the culture at work lately. Everyone is in survival mode and the boss's attitude has really sucked, to be honest. Three people received disciplinary action last week for absolutely ridiculous reasons. And in the midst of this time, I have to walk into the office and request eight latenesses per month.
I am really not looking forward to this process, nor am I looking forward to an OOP cycle that would be much more convenient, but much more expensive. Maybe that's why I am obsessing over the near-impossible this cycle. The reality of the future is so daunting and difficult that it is really hard to let go of the present. As much as my heart is holding onto hope for this cycle, don't be surprised if the next post is titled, "BFN..."
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
To pee, or not to pee...
For women who are TTC, there are POASers and non-POASers. I am far in the non-POASer category, and, for the record, POAS stands for peeing on a stick, or taking home pregnancy tests (HPTs).
For completely irrational reasons that are common in an infertile's mind, I feel like it is not truly a BFN until I get my period, and I always hope beyond hope until that actually happens. Many of us, however, are POAS-aholics and begin testing almost right away.
When you trigger with an injection like Ovidrel, an HPT will test positive soon after the injection. Many women will "test out" the trigger by testing often and watching the positive result from the trigger fade, then begin testing for another positive to see if the cycle was effective. Many women will also begin testing as soon as possible.
I rarely test. Out of the thirty-some cycles that we have been TTC, I have tested for fewer than ten of them. HPTs are expensive and I just don't see the point for me. In the 2+ years that we have been TTC, I have never had a positive, not even a faint one that resulted in a chemical pregnancy. Besides the cost of the HPTs, I also have trouble facing the seemingly inevitable.
Even though I know that the result will most likely be a BFN, those few days at the end of the cycle when it really could happen, or you might be late are really exhilarating. Your mind races with thoughts like of course it is negative - so far you're 0 for 31, but then there is that other thought, why not now? There is always a possibility... and you start thinking about how deliriously happy you would be. And how you would tell your husband. And how you would tell your family. And how everyone at work would be so happy that it was finally your turn.
It is really the only time during the month that the negativity doesn't outweigh the positivity for whatever reason. And I love it. I don't know if it is my brain's natural way to keep me from completely losing hope, but it feels so good. And when the BFN comes, it hurts and it is devastating for a while, but I keep plugging along because in some strange way, I was always prepared.
This is pretty much where I am now. Right now, CD30 is coming to a close, and on the last three cycles of Femara, my period always started early, around CD26 or CD27. I'm getting that natural high of thinking that this might be real. But then I remember that we had to cancel our IUI this cycle and that I never even triggered. My cycle could be running longer because I never sped it up with triggering. And I never even had an IUI, so what am I thinking? But then that other part of the brain chimes in and insists that it is possible. Lately, there have been several unexpected BFPs on the boards, either on breaks or canceled cycles.
Despite my inner-conflict, my period will have to be days late for me to even consider testing. As long as there is no negative test, I can still hang on to hope, and that's really all I've got right now.
For completely irrational reasons that are common in an infertile's mind, I feel like it is not truly a BFN until I get my period, and I always hope beyond hope until that actually happens. Many of us, however, are POAS-aholics and begin testing almost right away.
When you trigger with an injection like Ovidrel, an HPT will test positive soon after the injection. Many women will "test out" the trigger by testing often and watching the positive result from the trigger fade, then begin testing for another positive to see if the cycle was effective. Many women will also begin testing as soon as possible.
I rarely test. Out of the thirty-some cycles that we have been TTC, I have tested for fewer than ten of them. HPTs are expensive and I just don't see the point for me. In the 2+ years that we have been TTC, I have never had a positive, not even a faint one that resulted in a chemical pregnancy. Besides the cost of the HPTs, I also have trouble facing the seemingly inevitable.
Even though I know that the result will most likely be a BFN, those few days at the end of the cycle when it really could happen, or you might be late are really exhilarating. Your mind races with thoughts like of course it is negative - so far you're 0 for 31, but then there is that other thought, why not now? There is always a possibility... and you start thinking about how deliriously happy you would be. And how you would tell your husband. And how you would tell your family. And how everyone at work would be so happy that it was finally your turn.
It is really the only time during the month that the negativity doesn't outweigh the positivity for whatever reason. And I love it. I don't know if it is my brain's natural way to keep me from completely losing hope, but it feels so good. And when the BFN comes, it hurts and it is devastating for a while, but I keep plugging along because in some strange way, I was always prepared.
This is pretty much where I am now. Right now, CD30 is coming to a close, and on the last three cycles of Femara, my period always started early, around CD26 or CD27. I'm getting that natural high of thinking that this might be real. But then I remember that we had to cancel our IUI this cycle and that I never even triggered. My cycle could be running longer because I never sped it up with triggering. And I never even had an IUI, so what am I thinking? But then that other part of the brain chimes in and insists that it is possible. Lately, there have been several unexpected BFPs on the boards, either on breaks or canceled cycles.
Despite my inner-conflict, my period will have to be days late for me to even consider testing. As long as there is no negative test, I can still hang on to hope, and that's really all I've got right now.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
This is what I mean by "roller coaster..."
So it looks like our journey with the research study will be just as much of a roller coaster ride as the rest of the infertility journey.
I left our meeting with Dr. C feeling somewhat better about all of my projected anxieties. He assured us that he would do everything in his power to make the study work for us given our location and work schedules. He said that he would try to set up our appointments at the Radnor location as early or as late as possible.
This morning, I got a follow-up call from the organizer of the study, a woman named Jean. She told me that, in fact, no one has ever participated in the study through the Radnor office and that Dr. C is still working on this, but that it is not a guarantee. Also new to me, she said that no matter what Dr. C is able to work out, the baseline ultrasound and two of the other eight monitoring appointments must be at the downtown office. The more she said, the more I could feel all of the stress coming back.
There is another issue that somewhat complicates matters, as much as I don't think that it should. Yesterday, I went into work because my new co-teacher asked me if I wouldn't mind giving her a hand with set-up and some of her questions about sixth grade. Within a few minutes of our chit-chat, she told me that she is ten weeks pregnant and due in March. I impressed myself with my response. There was no gutpunch feeling, no shocked stare or attempt to hold back tears; I simply congratulated her and moved on with the conversation. She got pregnant with her first child around the same time we started TTC and now she is expecting her second. She also told me that she is experiencing just about every pregnancy symptom there is and she feels like crap most days.
In my overview of middle school routines and scheduling, she was genuinely surprised and dismayed to hear that the schedule is now the same everyday and that there will no longer be days when we have preps first thing in the morning. I had heard before that she often left early for "childcare needs," but she was also planning on taking full advantage of the middle school schedule by coming in late when her young child or pregnancy required it.
Now there are two teachers in the room who need some flexibility in the schedule, and given the fact that she is already expecting and the reaction I got previously from the Head of School, I can't imagine that I will be the priority, especially given that I am the one who is a "seasoned veteran." Right now, I am preparing to begin a year in which I will have to train and support a new(-ish) teacher, just to have her leave in March. She is planning to return after 6-10 weeks, but several of our co-workers are trying to convince her to stay home for the rest of the year and the summer to be with her kids.
I have been told many times by many people that this treatment should be a priority and that I can't let these things stand in my way. It is just so much more complicated than that. I can't help but feel dedicated to my job and I really am passionate about teaching. I also have been given a fair amount of pressure and responsibility this year given that out of the six teachers in sixth grade this year, there are only two who have done this before, and I am certainly the more competent of the two. It is unfair that it works out like this, but I just can't see either of my bosses being very understanding when I tell them that I will be late eight days per month and that at least half of those days, I will be significantly late.
Basically, I see three options right now, none of which are particularly appealing to me right now:
1. Continue on with the study just hoping that we will be assigned to the Menopur group and that it will be logistically feasible.
2. Drop out of the study and make separate arrangements with our RE to try a few cycles with injectibles OOP.
3. Nothing. Take a break from treatment and just hope that hard work, scrimping and saving will bring us a little closer to IVF, maybe next summer.
In the car today, my husband offered full support for whatever decision I make, and I really appreciate that. I know many women would want to make the decision together, but he knows me and trusts me, and he also realizes that the nitty-gritty of this decision really comes down to work dynamics and personal issues that he really does not understand or even have to participate in. All I know for sure is that he is not ready to quit yet and that we're not even looking down the adoption road yet.
I feel really down today that all of this is happening at once and my personality does not jive well with feelings of powerlessness. I hate that life is throwing all of these obstacles in the way of our attempts to overcome the biggest obstacle of our lives. I hate the fact that at least one of these obstacles is based on my talent and dedication in my job and that I am, in effect, being punished for this. If I was less competent at my job and more willing to just stand up and neglect my responsibilities to do whatever treatment I want, I would probably be closer to a BFP right now, and that sucks. If I had chosen a different profession that was more financially rewarding, I would also probably be in a different position right now. Most of all, I really hate that infertility is making me second-guess myself and make choices that other people simply do not have to make.
I left our meeting with Dr. C feeling somewhat better about all of my projected anxieties. He assured us that he would do everything in his power to make the study work for us given our location and work schedules. He said that he would try to set up our appointments at the Radnor location as early or as late as possible.
This morning, I got a follow-up call from the organizer of the study, a woman named Jean. She told me that, in fact, no one has ever participated in the study through the Radnor office and that Dr. C is still working on this, but that it is not a guarantee. Also new to me, she said that no matter what Dr. C is able to work out, the baseline ultrasound and two of the other eight monitoring appointments must be at the downtown office. The more she said, the more I could feel all of the stress coming back.
There is another issue that somewhat complicates matters, as much as I don't think that it should. Yesterday, I went into work because my new co-teacher asked me if I wouldn't mind giving her a hand with set-up and some of her questions about sixth grade. Within a few minutes of our chit-chat, she told me that she is ten weeks pregnant and due in March. I impressed myself with my response. There was no gutpunch feeling, no shocked stare or attempt to hold back tears; I simply congratulated her and moved on with the conversation. She got pregnant with her first child around the same time we started TTC and now she is expecting her second. She also told me that she is experiencing just about every pregnancy symptom there is and she feels like crap most days.
In my overview of middle school routines and scheduling, she was genuinely surprised and dismayed to hear that the schedule is now the same everyday and that there will no longer be days when we have preps first thing in the morning. I had heard before that she often left early for "childcare needs," but she was also planning on taking full advantage of the middle school schedule by coming in late when her young child or pregnancy required it.
Now there are two teachers in the room who need some flexibility in the schedule, and given the fact that she is already expecting and the reaction I got previously from the Head of School, I can't imagine that I will be the priority, especially given that I am the one who is a "seasoned veteran." Right now, I am preparing to begin a year in which I will have to train and support a new(-ish) teacher, just to have her leave in March. She is planning to return after 6-10 weeks, but several of our co-workers are trying to convince her to stay home for the rest of the year and the summer to be with her kids.
I have been told many times by many people that this treatment should be a priority and that I can't let these things stand in my way. It is just so much more complicated than that. I can't help but feel dedicated to my job and I really am passionate about teaching. I also have been given a fair amount of pressure and responsibility this year given that out of the six teachers in sixth grade this year, there are only two who have done this before, and I am certainly the more competent of the two. It is unfair that it works out like this, but I just can't see either of my bosses being very understanding when I tell them that I will be late eight days per month and that at least half of those days, I will be significantly late.
Basically, I see three options right now, none of which are particularly appealing to me right now:
1. Continue on with the study just hoping that we will be assigned to the Menopur group and that it will be logistically feasible.
2. Drop out of the study and make separate arrangements with our RE to try a few cycles with injectibles OOP.
3. Nothing. Take a break from treatment and just hope that hard work, scrimping and saving will bring us a little closer to IVF, maybe next summer.
In the car today, my husband offered full support for whatever decision I make, and I really appreciate that. I know many women would want to make the decision together, but he knows me and trusts me, and he also realizes that the nitty-gritty of this decision really comes down to work dynamics and personal issues that he really does not understand or even have to participate in. All I know for sure is that he is not ready to quit yet and that we're not even looking down the adoption road yet.
I feel really down today that all of this is happening at once and my personality does not jive well with feelings of powerlessness. I hate that life is throwing all of these obstacles in the way of our attempts to overcome the biggest obstacle of our lives. I hate the fact that at least one of these obstacles is based on my talent and dedication in my job and that I am, in effect, being punished for this. If I was less competent at my job and more willing to just stand up and neglect my responsibilities to do whatever treatment I want, I would probably be closer to a BFP right now, and that sucks. If I had chosen a different profession that was more financially rewarding, I would also probably be in a different position right now. Most of all, I really hate that infertility is making me second-guess myself and make choices that other people simply do not have to make.
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