ooooommmmm

Nothing like some weekly forced relaxation to make you question everything.

I’ve now been to the in.fertility cure acupuncturist twice, and have appointments scheduled every Wednesday through the rest of the month. Her style is different from my other person, and she is much more expensive, but I am hoping that w/ something as complicated as high FSH and general wonky-ness that you get what you pay for. I have been trying to feel good about trying something new, moving forward, blah blah blah… but last night I hit a bit of a wall and wound up sobbing into my knitting.

The problem at hand:  How do I know that this is the thing to invest hope in? Why should this work when nothing else has? Am I quickly becoming the desperate infertile woman who is willing to attempt (and pay for) anything that offers even a moniker of hope?

All this is compounded by other things… Super Husband’s father called yesterday to ask if I was pregnant yet. In my sexu.ality class yesterday we had a lecture on birth control, and one at a time the little college students told stories of how they got pregnant on birth control, and then the teacher told us she got pregnant while using birth control. My friend IRL who did IVF at the same time as me is pregnant w/ twins. (Seems everyone who did IVF around the same time ast me is pregnant w/ twins – why did the 100% implantation fairy skip my house?) Our friend the man-hoe’s baby mama is due any day now… frankly, I just don’t understand how fertility can come so damn easily for other people. Oh yah, and the Duggers were just in our town. So they are all over every media outlet around here.

I’ve been going at my fertility with as much estudious vigor (maybe more) then I am putting towards school. I am currently eating a special diet to help w/ my TCM fertilty type and high FSH. Acupuncture, herbs, femoral message… fertility awareness, saliva analysis, BBT, OPKs.   The last four all in an attempt to figure out when I am ovulating. And it really does take all four. As super husband likes to say, I am a very complicated flower.

If you have made it this far, I want to let you in on a little secret. We switched to the digital OPKs because I refuse to try to analyze those silly lines ever again. I thought about splurging on a fertility moniter, but figured I would try the smily face digital sticks first. I figured the pocketbook gougers at Clear.blue would surely make refills for those digital OPKs, right?  Wrong. But after a lot of searching, I found several different people on the internets that claim that you can use the fertility moniter sticks in the digital OPKs. So, I bought a pack of 30 and it turns out that they are exactly the same as the sticks that come with the digital OPKs. Take that Clear.blue!

So, that is what is up in my world. Also, I just saw a great movie, “My Neighbor Totoro.”  It’s by the same guy who did “Spirited Away” which I also love. Add them both to your net.flix queue, they are a fantastic distraction.

Bump-dar

You know how some people have the uncanny ability to know when a person is gay?  Perhaps before they even know themselves?  Well, I believe that I have a version of that super-power that enables me to know when someone is expecting, before the pee even dries on the stick.

We have some lovely neighbors accross the street. A couple about our age, married slightly longer then super-husband and I, with no kids. Now, when a couple has been married for seven years (like hubs and I) or longer without children, people start to speculate about you. And I have long speculated that our neighbor friends have had difficulty conceiving.

They moved in a little over a year ago from the same big metropolis that we came from, so we bonded over that.  Since we were already two years into the baby-not-making extravaganza I took careful note of the fact that she was not looking for work here in this new town. And that they had moved here to be closer to family.

Months went by and we had a few dinners together (I took note of her choice of beverages) and after awhile I started to think that maybe they were just one of those couples who didn’t want kids….

A few days I started the meno.pur for my IVF cycle, they went out of town – basically on our dream vacation to the Pacific Northwest. I was jealous… we did not take a vacation this summer because of IVF (and now I am forgoing our planned winter vacation because of IVF #2 but that is another topic..) and there they were, off on a 3 1/2 week trip while I was stuck at home getting shot up with drugs and swelling to epic proportions.

The day after my negative beta I came home from school and she was standing on their front porch.  “Hi!”  she shouted down at me.

“You’re back!  How was your trip?”

“Fantasic,” she said, “Really, really wonderful.”  Her husband came out and joined her on the porch.

“Yah,” he said, putting his arm around her.  ”Best vacation ever.” And he gave her a look. And at that point I knew that she was pregnant.

The events since then have just reinforced my suspicions. The bedroom shades have been drawn in the afternoon. I’ve barely seen either of them leave the house. When Super-husband and I caught them headed out to visit family over the weekend, we mentioned how they should really plan to come to a local festival with us this May. They looked at each other. Whispered. Told us they couldn’t.

So, it is still a hunch until I receive confirmation via turning down the glass of wine I offer her. But I think my bump-dar is pretty strong.

There is an underlying question though….  did they use fertility treatments?  They were gone for pretty much the entire length of my IVF once I started stims. Do they have a magic fertility doctor in Oregon?  Because if that is the case, I wouldn’t mind combining IVF #2 with my dream vacation.  How do you ask a question like that?

In other news, my hips are still giving me trouble from the PIO injections. The sensation of my clothes touching the area is still quite painful and any impact my feet make on the ground sends shockwaves of pain up my legs. It does seem to be getting better very very slowly. Or I am just getting used to it. I called my RE’s office and they told me not to worry, that it was most likely nerve damage which would eventually heal. Here’s hoping it is sooner then later!

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.

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.

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?

One week down, one to go.

Things aren’t looking great.

I had CD21 bloodwork done yesterday and while the bad news is that I did not appear to ovulate this month, the good news at least is that we are getting closer to an understanding of what in my body is not working properly.

My progesterone was at an 8, and the nurse said they like to see at least a 10 to indicate ovulation. A little searching on the net let me to the belief that there is really no way I can be knocked up with a progesterone level of an 8.

I guess it’s good I can’t get all foolish and feel hopeful that this was the month. But I was enjoying the feeling of possibility a bit. I guess it’s time to change my “IUI of Love” tag to “IUI of Love #1.”

I tried to distract myself by catching up on some non-IF blogs that I enjoy and found out that Dooce is pregnant and I’m happy for her and all, really I am. But it reminded me of when I found out that the fabulous people at Sweet Juniper were expecting their second, and how at the time (18 months ago) I was so secretly thrilled, because I was hoping to find out soon that I was also pregnant and I could read online about what would soon be happening to me from one of my favorite writers.

sigh.

So here we go again.

My day was topped off by a genuinely shit-tastic day at work, one that left me snapping at everyone. And my office mates like to hold grudges, so it will be at least a month before anyone is treating me like anything other then a psycho-bitch again.

And then there was the letter. Something so unbelievable it deserves a post all of it’s own.  Stay tuned…

Decisions, Decisions…

Well, I think I am getting closer to making a decision about weather or not we will pursue IF treatments. And it’s not the decision that I imagined that I would make.

I will be doing a medicated IUI in October. Ooooooh, right, so amazing! I am sure all you chicas who have been through IVF hell are really impressed with my big decision. But this has been hard for me. I am normally such a crunchy-granola-hippie-dippie type. I almost never take medications, and have really believed that if I took proper care of my body, this would all work out naturally…. eventually.

But a friend had a baby on July 3. She’s in her late 30s (I am a baby by comparison, in my late 20s) and she got pregnant after trying for less then 4 months. (Got married in July, said they wanted to start trying “soon” and got knocked up in October, could have been the first month for all I know…)

And what did this do to me? Well, initally, back in January when I found out they were expecting, it was upsetting. Now that they have the squirmy babe? I’m not so upset. I feel a new sense of resolve, that I want my own, and… that if this would have worked naturally, it would have happened by now.

As much as I want to believe that it could still happen naturally, this month marks the official two year mark of our TTC.  Twenty-Seven cycles. No double lines.  So, now I am combing the internets for phrases like “cost of medicated IUI cycle” instead of “natural ways to increase fertility.”  I’ll be back in the stirrups in September with a new doctor, and am planning on the IUI in October. It is the ideal time for me to get knocked up, as it will allow me to take minimal time off of school. (Ha ha ha! Did you see me mention it being the ideal time to get knocked up? I am jinxing myself already…)

(sigh) This still is not something I am looking forward to, yet. But hey, maybe I’ll get knocked up our last cycle before treatment, eh?  I hear that happens all the time, just like with adopting, only cheaper.

I’ll leave you with some soothing images from our recent camping trip, the one that messed up our chances of conception this month, yet I am on CD30 with no hint of the lovely Aunt how is that for messed up?

Some things I am greateful for:

Sailboats, stormy skies, and puppy snuggles!

still here, still not pregnant

Ahhh… my first ever post to apologize for not posting. I guess I am a bonafied blogger now huh?

Summer has gone in to full swing, and it seems like every moment is occupied by a bbq, a slip and slide party*, a camping trip, things for school, or work work endless work!

After recovering from the HSG allergic reaction from hell, I decided to go and get my updated shots for school. One dTap later, I had a 102 degree fever for three days and had to miss work. An extreme allergic reaction! How novel! This is starting to make me wonder if my body reacts badly to foreign substances, and if it is attacking super-husband’s sperm, thus preventing pregnancy. Hmmm…

Speaking of getting my shots, the whole experience was, well, an experience. I went to the county health department (free!) after work one day. I walked through the door to be greeting with a scene not unlike an airport, a busy train station, or the DMV. There was one of those reels of numbers, so I took one and had a seat on a folding chair. On my right I was being oogled by a young redneck gentleman. In front of me was a huge family, with about three crying babies, speaking to a translator in rapid Spanish. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone. That’s when a teenage girl with a pink glittery tee shirt that said “Princess” and acid washed jeans squeezed in next to me. She started flipping through a booklet she was holding in her lap. I glanced down at it. The title was, “Now That You are Pregnant, What Can You Expect?” She got to the third page or so and whipped out her cell phone, dialed a number, and started sobbing. “Mom! I’m pregnant!”

I nearly kicked myself for not having a business card on me.

I tried to not listen in on her conversation and looked over at the wall about 100 yards away. I could make out a tiny paper flier. There was a picture of a shot on it. I walked over to it and read the teeny tiny letters… “All vaccinations and travel shots – proceed directly to the immunization clinic.” I high tailed it out of there, found the clinic, and after 10 minutes of “Hannah Montana” I was vaccinated and on my way home.

Now that I have my newfound tetanus immunity, I was able to register for classes for the fall. I’ll be taking Health & Wellness and Intro to Statistics. I’m only a little scared. Mostly of statistics.

Other things of note:

• My acupuncturist took a seminar on abdominal massage for fertility. I get to be her “guinea pig” or as I prefer to call it, her “test pancake.” I’ve been getting free massages!
• I’ve been having pregnancy dreams… In them, I take a HPT, and I have two lines. That’s it, just the lines. It’s thrilling and realistic and then I wake up.
• We took a break this month, not on purpose. I ovulated late, while we were camping, and we just couldn’t do the deed on the rocky ground in a tiny tent with the dog, with about 15 of our friends within earshot. I feel a little relieved to have two whole weeks off!

Ok, off to catch up on all of your bloggy goodness!

*In honor of Kate, I am including a footnote to say that grown ups should not throw or attend slip and slide parties. I was sore for several days in some unusual places, and I got off easy. You would think that being a little drunk would help you bounce, but it dosn’t.

Thud

That’s the sound of the other shoe dropping.

It had been hanging there, suspended for awhile, but I knew it was only a matter of time until it hit the ground.

Despite my soggyness, and my chat with the husband about how he needs to be more sensitive to me regarding our inability to conceive, he still dropped quite a bomb on me this morning. Via email. While I was at work.

His brother and his brother’s wife are knocked up.

I need to be happy for these two… they had started trying when we did, got pregnant right away, and she had an early miscarriage. They stopped trying after that until recently, and now, voila, she’s pregnant again. They announced it to the family on Father’s Day.

And that’s part of why the sting was so harsh. Because I had wanted to tell the husband on father’s day that he was going to be a dad. And instead, I got my period.  This makes the third father’s day that I had fantasized about spilling the news, and the third one where I was let down.

It doesn’t help much that these two are idolized by husband’s family, that this will be the first grandchild, that these two always seem to get whatever they want. They always manage to get it a few steps ahead of us, do it a little better, a little grander. They’re celebrating by buying a million dollar home on an island a few hours away from us. I don’t plan on visiting much.

Husband always joked that the only way our kid would ever stand a change in his family is if we had it first. Looks like that plan is out.

So, as I frantically tried to keep my tears from spilling over my eyelids, I deleted husband’s email and tried surfing some links a friend had sent to change the subject in my brain. (Lookit here, “terrorist fist jab” hahahahahaha) It didn’t work. Eventually I found my way over to Io’s site, saw this, and finally, had a good laugh.

Even the fictional movie characters are knocked up

Nothing like a flick about teen pregnancy to really celebrate your infertility. Ju.no wouldn’t have been my first choice in film to see this weekend, although I usually love the cynical yet sweet comedy genre. We got sucked in to it with friends, and I was along for the ride.

All in all, it wasn’t too bad of an experience. The film was enjoyable, even from the point of view of an infertile having a visit from AF.  The characters were fun and the story moved along at a good pace. If you are the type to normally enjoy a film like this, but have been avoiding it like the plague because of the subject matter, you might want to reconsider.

 My only real beef with the film was the couple looking to adopt Ju.no’s baby. The woman is portrayed as being desperate for a child, while the man was kind of lukewarm about the whole thing.  There was a really wonderful moment though where Ju.no says to the woman, “at least you’re not pregnant,”  and the reaction from her is so realistic you would think that Jen.nifer Gar.ner isn’t currently parenting an adorable little rugrat in real life. Definitely straight from the list of insensitive things fertile people say.