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.

Circling, with nowhere to land

Everyone in the house with the PMS weepies raise your hand!

Three weeks after a negative beta, ok, not just a negative beta… an epic FAIL of an IVF cycle (so epic, I am suprised to not see a link back here on failblog), and I find myself flying in circles, with nowhere to land.

None of our available options are appealing to me:

Option #1:  Try on our own. Lucy and Desi tried for 10 years and wound up with two children. Sure, it’s not totally out of the question that this might work for us, but what if waiting even one more year renders my eggs totally useless?  SuperHusband refuses to believe that there is anything wrong with my eggs, that the doctors do not know what they are talking about. But I wonder, how many people try for three years to have a baby, fail 4 medicated IUIs, and 1 IVF and then go on to get spontaniously knocked up?  I am slightly considering flying to New York to see this guy, the first doctor to preform IVF and now no longer does it, but instead tries to help couples overcome any issues to be able to conceive naturally. No one I have seen in my own area thinks that they are able to help me. I am in the process of getting an appointment with one of the ladies who runs the Infertility Cure seminars. Turns out that they are based in my town. Who knew?

Option #2:  Try IVF again. This was my first instinct as to what we would do. But, as we have already established, it was an epic FAIL. Who is to say that the next time wouldn’t be as well? I’d love to meet with my RE to ask him what he would do differently next time to increases the chances of success, but I don’t feel like paying him another $2oo just to talk to me for 10 minutes. And like option #1, it raises the question, If the problem with my eggscan not be fixed, how can I expect to get pregnant? And if it can, why do I need IVF?

Option #3: Adoption. Thinking about this more and more. And with no disrespect to adopted people, or people who adopt, I am not 100% sure that it is right for me. SuperHusband would do it in an instant, he wants to adopt an older child from the foster system, not an infant. If we do adopt, I want an infant. I feel like that is our best chance to really feel as though it is “our” child, and a part of our family. I’m worried that an older child will always feel like someone else’s child, and a stranger in our home. I know that is shallow. I also know that infants come with gigantic price tags, home studies, waiting lists… the possibility of even more heartbreak. I’m not sure that our lower-middle class income (or lack of church attendence) would even qualify us. I’m not sure we would ever be able to afford it without selling our house. And, because it is worth repeating, I am not sure that it is right for me.

Option #4:  Live child-free. This breaks my heart. But I am coming to terms with it being a possibility, especially if we choose option #1 or #2.

So for now I guess we are going with option #1 – we have another 2 months before we have to decide about winter break IVF. Anyone have any assvice to put forth? I welcome it with open arms, I can’t keep flying in circles forever.

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.

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 

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?

The letter, part 1

News from the IF front… didn’t ovulate this month. Date with the dil.do.cam showed a cyst on my right ovary. Switching meds to something starting with an L after the cyst goes away. Turned down the offer of BC pills.

On to the letter I teased ya’ll with…  This is not the actual letter I sent, but hopefully it will give you a better idea of my mindset then the real thing.

Dear State branch of National Health Insurance Conglomerate:

While I appreciated the letter you sent me to inform me that my health insurance coverage had been cancelled due to your not receiving my last payment, I would like to beg for your forgiveness ask kindly for reinsatement. Please find enclosed the bribe   giant sum of money  four months of premiums that you requested in order to consider reinsating my insurance.

I also appreciated the separate letter you sent me that included my last payment. The one you said you didn’t receive. You will note that it was dated 10-21, well in advance of your cut off date.  Your reason for returning my check, that my insurance had been cancelled, was equally charming.

So while I think you are the scum of the earth, I have no other choice for insurance, so please accept this ass-kissing and reinsate me.

Kindly,

Mrs. FCL.

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…

CD1

Kaboom… that’s the sound of the box slamming shut again. Today is Cycle Day one. All I have to say about that is “fuck.”

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!

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.