Things have been moving pretty quickly around here, both in the fertility world and my professional world. We started a new teaching session, which included a fourth class I wasn't previously aware of (which I've never taught, by the way). So things have been a bit overwhelming. On the fertility side, I started my cycle on Friday, which meant I had to visit the ER for blood work on Sunday. This was unfortunate for several reasons, the largest being financial. I was warned that ERs often don't run the lab work through your insurance and instead charge you the full amount and leave the rest up to you. And this is exactly what happened. Luckily, the warning prepared me so that I didn't try to rip someone's head off when I was told to pay $563.72. I simply smiled, handed the guy my card and went on to have my blood drawn. However, when I went to my ultrasound, the employees at the specialist's office were appalled. I'm am, hence, in the process of getting the necessary information in order to get a reimbursement.
The rest of the ultrasound appointment was, however, good news. We think that my side of the fertility game is okay, but we don't know it. This started to confirm our hopes. When I first met with the specialist, he said they harvest all of the viable eggs when the time comes, and that number is generally around fifteen. So when the nurse who was counting my follicles moved into double digits on just one ovary, I was feeling pretty good. My total ended up around thirty, which is (from what I am told) a pretty high number. But follicles don't necessarily mean good eggs. They just mean the possibility of good eggs. I have an X-ray scheduled for next Tuesday to see if the rest of my system looks as good as my initial ultrasound. Then, we meet with the specialist again the following Friday and, if all looks good, we proceed with the IVF. That means that we could be pregnant by the end of September! That is so so so crazy!
It's hard to know how to feel about all of this. Things look good, which is very encouraging; but it's easy to get lost in the medical side of everything and to forget the end goal. Sometimes I even have a hard time saying the word "baby" out loud. It is something I want (most of the time), but it still scares me to think of it as a reality. Just thinking about the next appointment, the next test, and what our options are makes the entire thing more logical and I remain more detached. And in some ways that is a good thing. Despite the time, effort and money, nothing is guaranteed to us. This makes some amount of detachment healthy, right? I don't want to be so wrapped up in the idea of becoming a mother that I am completely crushed if things don't work out, which I've seen both with people undergoing IVF and the normal pregnancy process. But at what point does the detachment become a problem? When does it stop being a healthy sense of protection and move into denial or the ignoring of reality? Should I think about fun things like baby names and nursery decor or will that leave me too vulnerable for disappointment? I don't know, but I wish I did. For now, I think I'll stick with detachment but dabble a little in dreaming for the future. Hopefully, this will allow me to find a decent balance and, of course, we hope it will all end in good tears.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Ch-ch-ch-Changes
I'm not a control freak, but I do a lot of mental planning and I'll admit that a lot of my moodiness is a direct result of mental plans gone awry. Well, I had a more-than-mental plan. I knew how many classes I would be teaching during the next eight weeks and, although it was a little daunting, I was able to mentally juggle the start of my cycle, the driving back and forth to the specialist, the extra workload (I was taking on an extra class for a little pay boost) and normal spousal and household chores. Then, I started spotting and I got nervous. But I recovered... for the most part. But today I was told that I had been assigned an additional class and that this had happened a while ago, but somehow was never communicated to me. This class means extra hours and lunch away from home two days a week. It's not a big deal, but it's more than I was mentally prepared for. But then tonight I was told that, in addition to this being a fourth class and a class I haven't taught before, there may be nine students video conferencing their way into my classroom from another campus each week. Now I'm responsible for two classes worth of students, for a class I've never taught... and I'm going to be on video. This is not what I signed up for. I'll make it work - I always do - but right now I'm feeling very panicky and overwhelmed. I desperately want for my cycle to start so that I can at least know time frames for upcoming procedures. I feel so out of control. It's not like the entire IFV process wasn't taking the control away from me before. Now my professional life is going haywire. I know it will work out in the end, but in this moment I can't see the path. All I see are obstacles and detours and lots of essays to grade. Right now, I am not looking forward to this.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
The Deep End
With treatment ever nearing, money has been on my mind. Well, it's been on both of our minds, really. We have a pretty good system in place for the IVF procedures, but we currently have debt, so things compound and leave a bleak fiscal future. Luckily, we both have stable full time work that pays well, but our current debt plus the $11,000-$15,000 price tag for medical stuff (not to mention normal pregnancy and baby stuff should everything go as planned) makes everything a little daunting. But today, I was incredibly optimistic. I wanted to be productive and was productive. I listed some stuff to sell online and got a bunch of chores done around the house. Hopefully, some of that will pay off, but we'll have to wait and see. I'm still optimistic, even about the money, but I think my husband feels the weight a little more heavily. I hope things fall into place so that we can be reassured that we can truly handle this financially.
Then, to further emphasize all of the seesawing emotions as of late, I began spotting today. (I know. It's not something I would normally write about, but you can't really shy away from menstruation when you're writing about fertility.) Now, my cycle is and has always been pretty abnormal, so this could just be the very early signs of things to come, things which might not come for another week or longer, but it was still a wake-up call. This is really happening. We are really making this decision.
It's weird how cerebral the process becomes when it can't happen naturally. For many couples, there is one night of passion perhaps fueled by the idea of becoming a family and then boom, you're pregnant. Barring some sort of intervention, there is no turning back. Not so for us. We got the first step - the passion and idea (which was really more panic-stricken for me, if I'm truly honest). Then, we had the belabored steps of testing, waiting, testing, waiting, more testing, more waiting, and then options. Then, there was the appointment with the specialist. This was more serious, but it was still a choice. Now I know the plan, but it's not fully in motion yet. I got the meds in anticipation, but this could stop at any moment. We could weigh the options (and we have) and decide it's not worth the costs. Passion comes and goes. Sometimes, I'm 100% sure. Other times, I think we're nuts. But every time, I've come back to this as the right decision. But that's it... it is a decision and it's one we are making over and over again.
Sometimes I wish for that boom and your committed sort of thing. In many ways, it would be so much easier. But this way almost seems more natural for us. My husband and I are very logical people. We think through options. We plan finances. We muse over gifts, friends, patio furniture... whatever decision is currently on the horizon. It seems almost apropos that we had to make the decision to procreate in this way. And since we have both come very slowly into this idea of wanting to be parents, I think it's given us good time to adjust. I used to have short bursts of panic any time my husband would talk about making a baby. I'm sure for some women, that's great foreplay. Not for me! It was like a big red STOP button. But now, I feel more certain of the decision. It's less the novelty of parenthood - decorating the nursery, picking a name, getting to eat more than I should without being ridiculed, getting cute pregnancy clothes (because they are cute now, thank God). Now it's more of the long-term decisions. The desire to be good parents and grow up a well rounded kid (or kids). And aren't those better reasons to venture into parenthood? We would have gotten there eventually, even with a quick natural conception, but I think I needed to baby-step (no pun intended) into this whole "I'm gonna be a mommy" thing. But now we're out of the kiddie pool and getting to the edge of the diving board. My toes are curled over the end and I'm peering cautiously into the waters of the deep end. There is that sense of excitement - that desire to jump headlong into the sparkling waters. To feel the cool rush of wind, then water. To know the exhilaration of the moment. But there's still that underlying fear. The "what if" and the thought of dark and scary things lurking beneath the drain. But as a kid, I always jumped. I fought the fear of that dark speck, the fear of falling, of helplessness. I always jumped... and I was always glad I did. I suppose I should, as an adult, have at least the amount of courage I had as a kid. So... here goes.
Then, to further emphasize all of the seesawing emotions as of late, I began spotting today. (I know. It's not something I would normally write about, but you can't really shy away from menstruation when you're writing about fertility.) Now, my cycle is and has always been pretty abnormal, so this could just be the very early signs of things to come, things which might not come for another week or longer, but it was still a wake-up call. This is really happening. We are really making this decision.
It's weird how cerebral the process becomes when it can't happen naturally. For many couples, there is one night of passion perhaps fueled by the idea of becoming a family and then boom, you're pregnant. Barring some sort of intervention, there is no turning back. Not so for us. We got the first step - the passion and idea (which was really more panic-stricken for me, if I'm truly honest). Then, we had the belabored steps of testing, waiting, testing, waiting, more testing, more waiting, and then options. Then, there was the appointment with the specialist. This was more serious, but it was still a choice. Now I know the plan, but it's not fully in motion yet. I got the meds in anticipation, but this could stop at any moment. We could weigh the options (and we have) and decide it's not worth the costs. Passion comes and goes. Sometimes, I'm 100% sure. Other times, I think we're nuts. But every time, I've come back to this as the right decision. But that's it... it is a decision and it's one we are making over and over again.
Sometimes I wish for that boom and your committed sort of thing. In many ways, it would be so much easier. But this way almost seems more natural for us. My husband and I are very logical people. We think through options. We plan finances. We muse over gifts, friends, patio furniture... whatever decision is currently on the horizon. It seems almost apropos that we had to make the decision to procreate in this way. And since we have both come very slowly into this idea of wanting to be parents, I think it's given us good time to adjust. I used to have short bursts of panic any time my husband would talk about making a baby. I'm sure for some women, that's great foreplay. Not for me! It was like a big red STOP button. But now, I feel more certain of the decision. It's less the novelty of parenthood - decorating the nursery, picking a name, getting to eat more than I should without being ridiculed, getting cute pregnancy clothes (because they are cute now, thank God). Now it's more of the long-term decisions. The desire to be good parents and grow up a well rounded kid (or kids). And aren't those better reasons to venture into parenthood? We would have gotten there eventually, even with a quick natural conception, but I think I needed to baby-step (no pun intended) into this whole "I'm gonna be a mommy" thing. But now we're out of the kiddie pool and getting to the edge of the diving board. My toes are curled over the end and I'm peering cautiously into the waters of the deep end. There is that sense of excitement - that desire to jump headlong into the sparkling waters. To feel the cool rush of wind, then water. To know the exhilaration of the moment. But there's still that underlying fear. The "what if" and the thought of dark and scary things lurking beneath the drain. But as a kid, I always jumped. I fought the fear of that dark speck, the fear of falling, of helplessness. I always jumped... and I was always glad I did. I suppose I should, as an adult, have at least the amount of courage I had as a kid. So... here goes.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Change
This entire process is so surreal... and it's making me feel a bit bipolar. I haven't even started, well, anything yet and I find myself moving from one end of the emotional spectrum to the next each and every day. On Wed, I woke up feeling pretty good, but found myself on the verge of tears reading birthday cards for my sister. Talk about a walking cliche! And this is me WITHOUT the hormone treatment! My God, how will I be in a few weeks? And today, I've been thinking about how I'd love to just start my period so we could get into the process, but now just lying on the couch I started to panic. I've never had any issues with anxiety, but I could feel it rising in my body - from my stomach to my chest - and my heart began to race. Ugh! But I'm feeling better now. It's amazing how cathartic writing can be.
It's so weird to want something you have never wanted before. I think that's at the root of this. I am so accustomed to not wanting a child that I can't convince myself of our current path all of the time. Sometimes that other part of me comes through and I panic. Our lives are good right now. We have a routine. Our marriage is good. Why add something to complicate it? But them again, why not spice it up? Why not bring someone else into something good, especially when kids are exposed to so much hardship these days? That brings me comfort. I know we're making the right choice, but it's such a big choice. Sometimes I simply have to remind myself that it IS a good choice.
It's so weird to want something you have never wanted before. I think that's at the root of this. I am so accustomed to not wanting a child that I can't convince myself of our current path all of the time. Sometimes that other part of me comes through and I panic. Our lives are good right now. We have a routine. Our marriage is good. Why add something to complicate it? But them again, why not spice it up? Why not bring someone else into something good, especially when kids are exposed to so much hardship these days? That brings me comfort. I know we're making the right choice, but it's such a big choice. Sometimes I simply have to remind myself that it IS a good choice.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Support & Fading Optimism
Tuesday simply flew by. It is only now, at 12:30 am on Wed., that I find myself taking time to blog. It's been a good day, but busy. I suppose that is a good thing, though. When I'm busy, I can't dwell things - either the good or the bad.
I did get to share my story with my best friend, though. For other reasons, it had been several weeks since we had spoken and I preferred to share our news face-to-face since she lives so near to us. Unlike my sister, whose first response was to make sure I was certain of our decision (in a loving way), my best friend simply hugged me and asked for the details. I suppose that's what sisters and best friends are supposed to do, right? The sister is there to first make sure you're not jumping into anything and then be your support. The best friend is just there when you need her. I found both to be comforting.
Our conversation did, however, make me a little more leery of the upcoming hormone treatments I know I'll have to begin in a matter of weeks. I suppose I've looked upon them with optimistic naivete, but now they seem more ominous - more looming. It won't deter me from the process, but the reality is ever so slowly creeping into my consciousness. But I suppose that's a good thing, too. It's better not to go into the process all smiles and optimism only to be confronted by wildly fluctuating hormones and miscellaneous side effects. And if I am granted a relatively pain and roller coaster free experience? Then I can only be pleasantly relieved.
Here's to more waiting!
I did get to share my story with my best friend, though. For other reasons, it had been several weeks since we had spoken and I preferred to share our news face-to-face since she lives so near to us. Unlike my sister, whose first response was to make sure I was certain of our decision (in a loving way), my best friend simply hugged me and asked for the details. I suppose that's what sisters and best friends are supposed to do, right? The sister is there to first make sure you're not jumping into anything and then be your support. The best friend is just there when you need her. I found both to be comforting.
Our conversation did, however, make me a little more leery of the upcoming hormone treatments I know I'll have to begin in a matter of weeks. I suppose I've looked upon them with optimistic naivete, but now they seem more ominous - more looming. It won't deter me from the process, but the reality is ever so slowly creeping into my consciousness. But I suppose that's a good thing, too. It's better not to go into the process all smiles and optimism only to be confronted by wildly fluctuating hormones and miscellaneous side effects. And if I am granted a relatively pain and roller coaster free experience? Then I can only be pleasantly relieved.
Here's to more waiting!
Monday, August 15, 2011
Perspective
Today has been a weird day, full of ups and downs. This isn’t terribly abnormal for me, but now my thoughts bounce back and forth between various baby and medically themed things. I woke up optimistic and in a good mood, which is not normal for me. (I am quite the grouch in the morning.) I’m not sure when my mental tide changed, but it did and on my drive home from work this morning, I found myself thinking of previous conversations I have had with friends about the whole idea of Invitro and even the extreme measures we can take these days to preserve the life of a child/preemie who, in nature, isn’t equipped to live. It wasn’t long ago that I proclaimed that, even if we were deemed infertile, I was sure we wouldn’t take the medical route - that we would adopt or simply concede to a life without offspring. But somewhere along the way our plan, like my mood, changed.
I suppose it’s because this is a male problem and, even though the process involves my body (to a much higher degree than I had originally anticipated), it seems more natural to help a little swimmer reach it’s goal than to manipulate a woman’s body that is not willing to generate new life. But is there really a difference? On the one hand, technology is an amazing thing and we should take advantage of it, right? But on the other, if there is a legitimate reason why anyone’s body puts up a fight or shuts down in the procreative process, shouldn’t that tell us something? I use to think so, but when you’re on the other end of the argument (the side looking at the growing list of pregnant friends and imagining that never happening to you) it becomes difficult to see things the same way. I suppose that’s true for many things. If only we could experience life situations from multiple perspectives, this world would be a better, more empathetic, place. But I digress.
For now, I’m in a bit of a funk. Perhaps it’s because I started developing symptoms of PMS yesterday. Perhaps that is making the reality of this – and it’s rapidly approaching start date – more present… more, real. It’s not that I’m not excited to get this started. In fact, I think it’s breathing new life into my marriage – giving us a new thing to look forward to and plan together. And I think that’s healthy. But it is a daunting task. There are lots of meds, trips out to the doctor, medical bills… and I’ve only told one person that we’ve begun this journey. (Other than you, my curious reader.) There is fear there, too. First, fear in making it real by talking about it with someone, face to face. Fear in the idea that our attempts may fail and we would have to admit that to people other than ourselves. But there is also joy and healing in the process of telling. That’s why I started this blog in the first place. It is cathartic to put into words complicated emotions and hear responses, feedback, praise, questions… whatever… from people you love and trust. So maybe sharing is at least part of the answer. And maybe it just comes with the territory. This is a monumental decision and if we took it lightly – felt no joy, fear, anxiety, excitement – I think that would speak volumes about us. So I am grateful for the emotions and grateful for the technology that allows me to share them. And when happiness isn’t realistic, I think gratefulness is a fantastic place to start.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
The Journey of a Thousand Miles
This last week, I had my first appointment with a fertility specialist. Our issue is actually male infertility, but since my body will do most of the work, I have the honor of getting worked on. Joy. There aren’t a whole lot of fertility specialists in our area and we had heard of other people going to larger cities hours away, but we were recommended to one and decided to try it. I was nervous and excited. I didn’t know what the appointment would entail, so I primped and primed my girly parts as best I could, took a few really deep breaths and went. I turned out, the doctor barely even touched me. (All that shaving for nothing. Geez!) But I really liked him… and his staff… and his office. And I suppose there will be enough physical manipulation in due time, right?
So for those of you as uninformed as I was, here’s the plan. The first step is starting a new menstrual cycle. In fact, I have to call the office as soon as I start my period. I’ve never had to announce this news to anyone, let alone office staff, but I’ll do as I’m told. Then, within ten days I’m going to have about five tests: blood work, ultrasound, X-rays of my girlie parts, etc. The tests will tell them if there’s anything wrong with me. And then, the meds. Apparently there is about a $5,000 gap between “basically normal fertile female” and “damn that girl’s girlie parts are screwy.” I really hope I’m on the conservative side of this spectrum because nothing about this process is cheap.
We know we’re looking at a specific type of Invitro Fertilization (IVF) called Intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection (ICSE for short) which involves the normal IVF harvesting of my eggs, but adds the manual selection of individual sperm and insertion of said sperm into my eggs (externally, of course). Sounds like fun, huh? And despite all of this, I left the doctor feeling excited, relieved and somewhat eager. There was comfort in knowing that we had a plan and we were taking the first steps. I had been feeling down for a while (I have struggled with mild clinical depression in the past) but I feel better than I have in a long time. Perhaps it’s just the newness, but I hope not. Maybe this is part of my larger purpose in life, even though it’s something I’ve never felt pulled towards. I’ve never felt my biological clock ticking and I’ve only held a couple of babies in my entire lifetime. But there must be sometehing to this parenting thing if so many generations have done it. (And we’ve had birth control for decades now, so don’t give me that bullshit.) And it may be that all of this effort and money leaves us with nothing but a failed attempt, but I still find hope in that. So… onward and upward! Here’s to my next menstrual cycle. May it come speed and significance! Excelsior!!
The Beginning
Welcome to my blog! I have started this primarily as free therapy for myself and to document the ups and downs of the next however many months of my life. So… where to begin?
I have been married for ten years now. We were one of many friends who got married around the same time, but while they were popping out kids, we were getting our first dog. We both attended college for undergraduate and graduate work and really had little desire for a family that went beyond our four-legged companions and us. When people would ask us about kids, we’d say “maybe… eventually.” But in the last couple of years our response has gotten a little more favorable and we’ve talked about kids as more of an eventual probability than a possibility. And last year – in May 2010 – we decided to throw caution to the wind and start trying. And we did… but nothing happened.
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