the more things change, the more they stay the same

Still here treading water. Haven’t written anything lately, because there just isn’t much to share. I fear sitting down and typing something out, because I am sure that I will just resort to whining and no one really wants to read that.

Right now I am mostly occupying myself with trying to avoid man-whore’s baby mama.  Which is proving it’s self to be more challanging then anticipated. It seems like every time I venture out and try to enjoy myself with my friends she manages to show up. The last time this happened there was a lifting of the shirt and everyone moved en masse to kiss the belly. Yah. Freakin’ rediculous. I drank a lot that night, so I am growing my own belly too!  No one wants to kiss mine.

Man-whore apparantly admitted to super-husband last week that he knows that he will not be staying with baby mama long term. That he does not want to marry her. That he doesn’t love her enough to make any kind of commitment like that. This upset super-husband quite a bit, the most I have ever seen him upset over anything IF related. He started talking about wanting to offer to adopt their baby. I reminded him that they were not giving the baby up for adoption, and eventually he admitted that he was just upset that two people who are not in love, and have no intention of commitment could bring a child into this world but we can’t.

The concert was great. The hometown show was a real treat, and is being called the best of the tour by folks who went to them all. We also went to the next night’s show a few hours away and that was wonderful as well, but a totally different vibe. The only low point of the hometown show was when a super-prego mama to be jammed herself in my personal space and started rubbin’ all over her belly in front of me. It upset me for a moment, and then I decided I wasn’t going to let IF get me down at such a rockin’ show and I was able to tune her out.

 She didn’t stay long, and didn’t put much of a damper on my mood. Here is a photo of super-husband and I during setbreak. That’s right, we were right up front!!! Too bad you can’t see my awesome silver sequined top in this photo. It was awesome.

 

We are still on track for attempting IVF sometime in the fall or early winter. I am balking a bit on the idea of winter break IVF… we have the opportunity to go on a lovely and cheap tropical vacation around the New Year, which is right in the middle of my break. Yuk timing. I have given up so much to IF these last three years (That’s right, this month marks the official three year mark!) I hate to give up anything else. I’ll feel rotten enough if IVF does not work, why add the regret that we didn’t take this trip to the mix as well?  So I’ll be contacting my clinic soon to find out the scheduling details for IVF and see if we can do it in October or November even though it is during school.

So, that’s all that is new in my world… now I’m off to see what has been happening in yours.

Clearing the Air

I’ve been mulling this post over for a long time. I first thought about it about a year ago, when I heard from a friend the story of his sister who had trouble conceiving.

When his sister was a teenager she got pregnant, carried a healthy baby to term, and gave it up for adoption. For years she had been living with the guilt of the baby she gave up, a guilt which only intensified 2o years later when she got married and started trying to start a family.

His sister had been trying for about a year and a half when she sought the help of a fertility doctor. The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with her, but they started on the whole clo.mid iui thing which didn’t work after several attempts.  What did wind up working for her was finally dealing with the pain and guilt of giving up a baby so many years earlier. For a long time she was blaming her infertility on what she had done as a teenager, and it wasn’t until she let that pain go that she was able to move on and conceive again.

This might be a nice point to say that I am not one to preach the whole “relaxing makes babies” philosophy, especially for people who have medically diagnosed problems that are interfearing with conception. But at this point in husband and I’s journey (three long f*cking years. Literally.) I am really looking for ANYTHING to grasp on to. Unexplained infertility is a hard thing to live with, one that makes you wonder about every aspect of your life, and what you might be doing subconsciously or accidentally that could be keeping you from conceiving.

I am not dealing with any issues like that from my youth, but I have my fair share of wondering if there is anything I did in my past, or something I am currently doing that has affected my ability to conceieve. Which is a similar thing really, because I have no more control over taking away the stupid things from my past as she had control over undoing an unplanned pregnancy and adoption. Blaming your infertility on something in your past is a crazy exercise in futility. But I bet a lot of us do it. I know I do.

What do you blame your infertility on? What do you need to do to let it go and move on?

Personally, I blame my infertility on the fact that I smoked a lot of p0t in high school and college.  It is something I haven’t done for about 7 years,  but I am still able to pretty thoroughly blame it for my inability to conceive a child. Even in light of the fact that my friend the man-whore and his baby mama smoke copious amounts of the stuff.  (I guess it is hopefully past tense for the baby mama now.)

I know it is a stupid thing to blame my infertility on a bit of teenage indescrition, especially considering that my menstrual cycles were screwed up from day one, all the way back to middle school. And that many of my former pothead friends have gone on to easially conceive healthy, beautiful, children.

So, now I just need to figure out what I need to do to move on, because blaming my teenage self can’t be healthy or productive.

In other news, that concert I was all bummed about missing back in March? Tickets were harder to get then a double line on a pregnancy test, and my dreams of dancing all barefoot and pregnant and re-hippieafied were dashed. Well, said band will be playing the arena two blocks from my house tomorrow. An arena that is about 1/3 of the size of all the other arenas they are playing on the tour, and a highly sought after ticket. That we have. It’s going to be a good night, reconnecting with those hippie roots that brought us together 9 years ago. (minus the p0t)

Grouchy

I’ve got a case of the grouchies. It was bound to happen sooner or later I suppose. This particular case of the grouchies was triggered by something else that falls into the innevitable category… meeting my friend the man-whore’s baby mama.

We went to the potluck knowing she would probably be there. And to her credit she seems like a lovely person, and she and man-whore seem very happy together and excited about the pending bundle of joy.

But my goodness, the freaking bump cooing never stopped. And it is barely a freakin’ bump at that. I could look the same way if I didn’t suck in my gut and ate a cheeseburger. And everyone participated in the bump cooing, not just the father to be. Except super-husband and I who just stood around awkwardly whenever a new bump-cooing session would begin.

Then, our friend the man-whore turned to us and asked the question: “So, when are you two going to have babies?” Because, you know, it is going to be so lame when he is the only one in our group with one. The first. The one paving the way. Got to insure that someone is going to follow up with another one so he doesn’t turn outcast.

Super-husband (bless him) grabbed the ball and ran with it, “Actually, we are waiting on one to arrive in the mail any day now.”

To which he received the response from a potluck attendee we didn’t really know, “the wonders of modern science, eh? ” and husband said “anyone have a spare 20 grand lying around?”  There were laughs all around and the conversation shifted and I am pretty sure that none of them still have ANY kind of clue that we were doing anything other then make a joke.  Because then man-whore cornered me and spent 10 minutes gushing about how their first ultrasound was on Thursday and he was just so EXCITED to see the BABY.

Bleh. And I wonder if any one there ever took the second to think that we were the ONLY married couple in attendence, and we have been married for SEVEN years and gee, do you think we maybe had actually given the whole baby making thing a go by now?

And so this morning I am mostly just feeling bitter and barren and depressed about the whole darned thing.

So far, my attempt at moving on and not thinking about it for the next few months?  Not working.

Scheduling Conflicts

So, you mean you can’t schedule a pregnancy for when it is most convenient for you?

You all have unanimously told me what I really should have already known. Especially considering all of the rearranging I did with my life three years ago when we started this whole journey. The big one being not going back to school and sticking with a job I hated, just for the health insurance. My mindset was that I would not go back to work after the baby was born, instead going back to school… then I would utilize the ultra-cheap on campus childcare and re-enter the workforce when the babe was 4 and ready for preschool. Voila!  Baby-rearin’ with minimal daycare… the perfect plan!

Well, we all know how it went from there…  I couldn’t get pregnant, things went downhill at work, eventually I was a great big ball of misery, and now I am back in school and still with no child, making nearly every moment a less then optimal time to get pregnant.

(You would think that the less then optimal timing would mean I would get knocked up no problem. That’s how mother nature (murphy’s law?) works, right?)

Anyways, I am going to give mother nature a few more months to wield her trickery and then launch into my first (and only!! got to be optimistic…) IVF cycle in December.  Knowing full well that the whole train could be derailed, things could go wrong, etc.  The wait is more so because I need a break then anything else, because this has been a long three years.

Pondering the Future

Super Husband thinks I spend too much time pondering the future, but I like to be able to have an idea of what to expect in the coming months. This is one of the reasons that IF has been hard on me, while he thinks I am stressing too much.

Well, with the idea that IVF might be in our future, it is giving me WAY too much to have to ponder. Not only do I ponder when a baby might enter our lives, but also when would the least intrusive time to do IVF be?

So, I would like to pose a question to the group and open up the floor to some advice (or assvice, I am game for either!)  Please chime in regardless of weather or not you have done IVF, but I am especially looking for input from folks who have been down that road and know what the landmarks are like.

I have a few times coming up in the next 6 months that would be a “good” time for me to do IVF… what would you think the best circumstances would be?

Option #1  The first two weeks in August I will be on a break from school and work, but it is only for two weeks…. after those two weeks are over I will be starting a new and rather grueling semester. (I signed up for tough classes because I figured I wouldn’t be worrying about IF treatments, hahahaha!)  I have a personal dislike for missing too much school, especially when classes are hard.

Option #2  Having a baby in June  would be ideal, because I could take the summer off from school and still be covered under my student insurance policy. If I have to take a regular semester off then I will loose my insurance and will need to try and qualify for medic.aid.  So that would mean IVF in early September, during school. Of course, it might not work on the first try, but there is no reason to believe it would not.

Option #3  Winter break IVF… I have a whole month off, can achieve maximum relaxation and just focus on the task at hand. However, success would mean taking the following fall semester off of school and I would not be covered under my student policy.

(Let me say as an aside, that I think that Medic.aid has better coverage then my student policy, but there will be the added stress of needing to qualify, which shouldn’t be that hard but you never know… and I will have one major pre-existing condition!)

Thoughts?

She Exists!

I know, I announced I was back and then I disappeared again. I certainly appreciate everyone who has stuck with me despite my flakyness as of late.

The good news is when you are not actively TTC there is actually something new to report when you only post about once a month!  And this month’s news is a bang up bit of news at that.

Last week I had a recurrance of the infections and this time went to my RE instead of urgent care. He wrote me some new scripts and then took advantage of his captive audience and told me that he was done doing IUIs, that he officially reccomended IVF.

Naturally, this didn’t really register anything with me, because we can’t afford to do anything anyway! And I casually mentioned this to my mom who up and asked me how much IVF cost. I looked up the charges for my clinic and shared them with her. And the result?  Well, it turns out that my dad just received an inheritence from his mother who passed away, and it happens to be the same amount as my clinic’s shared risk program.

So, I have the greenlight from them to do shared risk (three attempts, then money back minus cost of drugs if there is no “take home baby”) whenever I want.

Yah, I had a hard time scraping my jaw up off the floor from that one too.

So now it’s really all on hubby… whenever he is ready to start we will. And he is coming around. It’s all quite crazy really, how much things can change over the course of a month.

It’s nice knowing I have IVF on the horizon, and I can fully enjoy spring until then. Without the pressure of TTC.

In other news, we went camping at the beach two weekends back and had a lovely time. We took advantage of being near super-husband’s brother and stopped in to meet their new baby and I got to hold my first niece for the first time. And she really is lovely and precious and all good things and oh how I want to give her a little cousin.

I expected to feel all sad and bitter, and I certainly shed a few tears on the way there. But once I met her that faded away. I don’t want THIS baby, though I already love her to pieces… I just want my own baby. Anyway, I am glad I took the plunge and met her, because now I can start knitting her cute little baby pants w/ no bitterness.  And she gives me the motivation to hold my breath and take the plunge into IVF.

Here I come!!!

The last CD-1

At least for a while. Because I am officially calling it quits.

All is not well with the lady bits. After two weeks of cramping after the last IUI I officially have both a yeast infection and a urinary tract infection. I wound up at Urgent Care for three hours on Sunday to receive the good news. While they were at it they took a pregnancy test and delivered the unsuprising results. Now I’ve added good old auntie flo to the mix and am ready for a rousing chorus of “I Enjoy Being a Girl.”

So what is the plan for spring?

First I intend to lose the 15 pounds I have put on “eating for possibly two” two weeks out of the month every month for the last 3 years.  I am signing up for summer school and attempting to forget all about TTC until at least the fall whilst saving my pennies.

Come fall I’ll reevaluate things, maybe hubby will have warmed up to the idea of IVF, maybe my parents will have come around when they realize that all this relaxing hasn’t gotten me knocked up. (They still are of the mind that my stressful employment situation is what kept me from being with child for all those years) After all, what good is a comfortable retirement when there are no grandchildren?  (I am an only child, so I am their only hope!)

I’m going to try to not be too bitter, and I plan to avoid my pregnant-by-suprise man whore of a friend whenever possible – though he does like to hang out in my favorite neighborhood bar.

But for the meantime, I am going to take a strong dose of advil and have a good cry. Because this fucking sucks.

Peeking out from under my rock

It is nice under here. Dark. Damp. Mossy. But even I have to admit that enough is enough, it’s time to rejoin the universe. It’s time to catch up with what I have been missing.

Not a lot has changed since I left…  Some of you are back after breaks of your own… Some of you are pregnant (!) … but mostly the world of IF blogging seems to be humming right a long at the same pace I left it. Which is comforting.

Not a lot has changed with me either… We received some news in February that we would get our first tax return ever, and a sizeable amount at that… We used it to pay for two more IUIs, one of which was a miserable failure, the second of which I am in the midst of right now. I’ve got every appendage in my body crossed that this will be the one…  One more week to wait.

This one was especially difficult, the doctor took about 20 minutes trying to thread the catheter through my disagreeable cervix, and I have been cramping ever since. I am trying to take that as a good sign, that something is going on down there. But I will admit that I gave up a long time ago. This will be the last IUI we do, regardless of the outcome.

School is going well, my lack of pregnancy thus far ensures that I will be able to attend summer school and get through the Fall semester even if this IUI takes. Haven’t had a chance to meet the new niece yet, her parents are both already back at work and have no time for company. I’ve sent her a few knitted items.

I found out a few weeks ago that one of my guy friends got a girl pregnant. Not even his girl friend, just a random girl. They are attempting to make the best of it and are moving in together. I bit my tounge and didn’t ask if he wanted to just give the baby to me and super-husband.  It’s hard for me to feel good about their situation, but I am doing my best.

Ok, that’s all for now. I promise to be better about posting and commenting again. This isn’t the last of me 

Still here…

I’m still around, menstruating, keeping up with you all, trying to figure out where to go from here.

Soon there will be a post about snow and how much I like various things that start with the letter “m.”  But for now, I am hunkering down and taking things easy.

2009, woo hoo?

2009 is off to a rip roarin’ start. Yesterday afternoon had me running errands mid day… driving through my college campus with the windows down, my favorite tunes on the radio, enjoying the unseasonable 60 degree weather. I was filled with the thought of possibility… that 2009 would bring us a pregnancy, that going back to school and starting my new job would bring me the chance to start over in life, that our new president elect might bring some good change to the country, or at the very least a fresh start looking at issues with new eyes and perspective.

Then my dad called… and told me that he would no longer be able to help pay for my IF treatment. A call that came only about two hours after we received word that we are now aunt and uncle to a lovely and perfect baby girl. And then my happy little universe imploded on it’s self.

Because without help, there is no way that we can pay for IF treatments on our own. At least not with any kind of regularity.

While that news was shocking and upsetting, more shocking and upsetting was the way my dad handled it. “How long is this thing going to take anyway?” He asked. “I thought that it would have been taken care of by now, it’s been three months.”

It was a conversation that left me feeling so stupid, so naive, and so broken. The other shoe, it has fallen.

I am sill in the two week wait to see if IUI #2 was a success, I’m not filled with optimism though, especially after husband’s difficulties with the speciman cup.

Now I am just waiting to hear the news that the new baby girl in our family? She will be named the name that we planned on naming our daughter someday. Leaving me with the question to pose to you all… when you are having trouble conceiving, do you tell the pregnant members of your family the names you have “on reserve?” Or do you just suck it up if those names get picked?