The Mr. and I are now in a find money any way we can mode. We are collecting cans, bottles, newspaper, and cardboard to recycle. We are going through our possessions, asking others for donations of items they no longer want or need and then trying to sell them to make some cash. We are saving any money we get for birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas.
Even with all of this work and effort it will take a long time to get to our goal but every dollar is a step towards that goal. It is sometimes hard to think that after all of this an IVF treatment can still end in a BFN. I pray we are one of the lucky ones, those couples who go through one IVF and get the child they have been dreaming of.
July 27, 2010
July 20, 2010
When will it get easier?
Writing this post is difficult. I hope that no one is hurt or offended because that is not what I want. I just really need to work through my emotions.
A baby is a blessing. But these feelings just keep bubbling up. It feels like I am having panic attacks.
Everyday I feel bombarded with "I'm pregnant" announcements, sonogram photos, baby bump photos... and it makes my heart sink. I should just be able to suck it up and be able to congratulate everyone. I should be able to walk past the baby section with out feeling like the breath has been knocked out of me. I should be able to go to baby showers without wanting to lock myself in the bathroom till its over. I should be able to hold a new baby, instead I am terrified someone will hand one to me.
I LOVE my friends!
I LOVE that the large majority of my friends are able to have children with little to no trouble!
BUT
I HATE that I cannot be in the same boat as them. It hurts.
A baby is a blessing. But these feelings just keep bubbling up. It feels like I am having panic attacks.
Everyday I feel bombarded with "I'm pregnant" announcements, sonogram photos, baby bump photos... and it makes my heart sink. I should just be able to suck it up and be able to congratulate everyone. I should be able to walk past the baby section with out feeling like the breath has been knocked out of me. I should be able to go to baby showers without wanting to lock myself in the bathroom till its over. I should be able to hold a new baby, instead I am terrified someone will hand one to me.
I LOVE my friends!
I LOVE that the large majority of my friends are able to have children with little to no trouble!
BUT
I HATE that I cannot be in the same boat as them. It hurts.
June 27, 2010
Hurting
A fellow IFer said it well, "I've been more focused on staying strong and surviving work and not making other people feel uncomfortable with my sadness that I'm giving myself no space time or energy to just be sad. And I really need to, or I'm just never going to be able to heal."
June 19, 2010
Especially in the quiet places
A man on one of those forensic, murder mystery shows I am always watching said something that stuck with me. Let me paraphrase what he said, "I can go about my day. I can go to work. I can laugh. I can have fun. But the whisper of my child's murder is always there, and in the quiet moments of my life it is all I hear."
My whisper is infertility.
My whisper is infertility.
May 14, 2010
The End
It took 6 hours for the lab to get my test results posted.
My 6th IUI cycle has failed.
I cannot see the screen through my tears, I have no words.
My 6th IUI cycle has failed.
I cannot see the screen through my tears, I have no words.
May 10, 2010
Thoughts on Mother's Day
Nia Vardalos
Actress/Writer/Director
On May 9th, overpriced flower arrangements will brighten homes, and restaurants will serve multi-calorie brunches. Reminders will be whispered: “hey, be nice to your mom for a minute.”
Vardalos: Admittedly, I am a giddy idiot on Mother’s Day. I’m also a hypocrite because for a long time I avoided the day as hard as I could.
Sure, Mother’s Day feels a tad manufactured. But if I can get a gift out of this bogus holiday, I’ll take it. Admittedly, I am a giddy idiot on Mother’s Day. I’m also a hypocrite because for a long time I avoided the day as hard as I could. Just the drugstore greeting card rack would make me queasy. I loathed May.
For years, at Spring social gatherings, some women would innocently ask why we didn’t have children. Others would overhear and exclaim what a great father my husband would be, so why on earth didn’t we have kids? When I would give a tight-lipped answer: “we’re trying,” they would not go silent.
They meant well, but they would loudly persist with up-beat advice: stories of this sister or that friend who had tried forever, and then a “miracle” had happened. Others would overhear, and join in. I would instantly feel forehead, upper lip, and low back-sweat from the sudden attention. All I’d wanted was a snack. Now, crudite in hand, I was up against the food table, being advised by pretty, chipper moms bouncing beautiful, pudgy babies on their hips.
A lot of “You Should” advice came my way. From the “latest technique in Europe,” to “just adopt from China” – everyone weighed in. I understood it all came from them wanting to help. It was meant with goodwill. But it was a painful, overwhelming subject for me. I just wanted to throw dip in the air and run. Those were the nice women. Some women were, um, well… they were turds.
The success of my first movie coincided with some awful events in my quest to be a mom. I’ll keep the details private, but quite frankly, it sucked. I was emotionally and physically exhausted.
During this time, I would run into The Coven – a group of not-nice-women. These women had, at one time, been actresses. Now they were married to men in the film industry, or their husbands were in our social circle. They made me nervous.
We all know the type of woman I’m talking about here: the ones who say nasty things to women. The Coven seemed stymied by the fact that they were not working actresses and I, far less attractive, appealing and talented than them, was. Often, I can tell when I walk in a room how people feel about themselves. To the optimist, I represent hope of what is possible. But to the pessimist, I represent the stench of their own perceived failure. I will be the first to admit, wow, I stepped into some good fortune with my first movie. I don’t consider myself particularly special. I got lucky. These women would wholeheartedly agree with my assessment of myself. Sadly, they were not secure women. When they saw me, their mascara’d eyes would shoot daggers at my skull.
Now, as the gossip leaked out that I was struggling to have a child, while these women were on their second and third – they realized they had something over me. They could breed. And I couldn’t.
So, at a casual backyard barbecue, where all were invited to celebrate Mother’s Day, the women of The Coven would surround me, the barren one, to squeal about how “amaaaaazing” their pregnancies had been. How their husbands had looked at them with “awe and gratitude” as they gave birth. How breastfeeding was a “gift.” One woman actually made fun of my anatomy while proclaiming how her body worked “perfectly.” It was sad how they needed to make me feel inadequate, and yes it hurt. And sure, I could have innocently asked: “…did pregnancy hormones grow your moustache, or did you have it before?” But I didn’t. Not because I was so evolved and took the high road… nope, I was scared of them so I would escape as quickly as I could.
Women like this are missing out on real female friendships. Okay, maybe it’s just shoe shopping and cellulite talk, but I value it. I was happy for these women who got to be moms. Why couldn’t they just be kind? It was Mother’s Day after all.
No matter where I went on this day, I was an easy target. If I drank anything non-alcoholic, there were women who would pat my tummy and say “when are you due?” A small social guideline: don’t ask a woman if she is pregnant, unless her water breaks on your flip-flops, a baby arm dangles out of her vagina and she asks you to cut the cord. Then, and only then, may you ask if she is having a baby. Otherwise, shut up.
So, for years, I avoided venturing out on Mother’s Day. I feared the entire day and the feeling of failure it would bring. I would call my sisters, sister-in-law and mom on that day and wish them well. They had the grace and kind-heartedness to never admonish me for not trying this technique, or that plan. My sweet family and my good kind friends never pried. They would always listen when I asked for advice, or when I lost it after the latest route or adoption had fallen through. One good friend even quietly handed me a prayer card.
My own mother is kind, compassionate, ironic, focused, optimistic and above all, discreet. Sadly, some of our friends have lost their mothers. I am thankful for every day I have with mine. My mom possesses all the values I cherish and look for in my friendships and relationships.
And, when my husband and I told our family and friends we’d been matched with our perfect daughter through American Foster Care – their elation was profoundly moving. They welcomed our then three-year-old daughter with a joy and happiness that was beyond anything I could have imagined. There is no limit to the amount of attention, kindness and warmth our families and friends - the “aunties” and “uncles” - shower on our daughter. Over a year later, she is thriving in an environment of love and care.
Some of these people are not parents. Often, at parties, especially on Mother’s Day, these friends and family are the target of the well-meaning questions or downright spiteful comments I myself once endured.
Please, on Mother’s Day, have some compassion. If you see someone without kids, do not ask them why they don’t have children, why they don’t just adopt, or if they are pregnant. Please be kind. Be quiet and pass the dip.
I am writing this for the friends and family who listened, didn’t pry, and above all stuck with me on my quest to be a mom. If I am happy on May 9th, it’s largely because of these people’s quiet empathy and unending encouragement. And, if I am happy on this day, it’s because I am in love with being a mom and so grateful for the circumstances, as painful as they were, that led me to my wonderful daughter. Happy Mother’s Day everyone. I hope you buy some flowers, eat a fattening brunch, and laugh all day.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go call my mom.
Editor's Note: Nia Vardalos is the National Adoption Day Spokesperson
Actress/Writer/Director
On May 9th, overpriced flower arrangements will brighten homes, and restaurants will serve multi-calorie brunches. Reminders will be whispered: “hey, be nice to your mom for a minute.”
Vardalos: Admittedly, I am a giddy idiot on Mother’s Day. I’m also a hypocrite because for a long time I avoided the day as hard as I could.
Sure, Mother’s Day feels a tad manufactured. But if I can get a gift out of this bogus holiday, I’ll take it. Admittedly, I am a giddy idiot on Mother’s Day. I’m also a hypocrite because for a long time I avoided the day as hard as I could. Just the drugstore greeting card rack would make me queasy. I loathed May.
For years, at Spring social gatherings, some women would innocently ask why we didn’t have children. Others would overhear and exclaim what a great father my husband would be, so why on earth didn’t we have kids? When I would give a tight-lipped answer: “we’re trying,” they would not go silent.
They meant well, but they would loudly persist with up-beat advice: stories of this sister or that friend who had tried forever, and then a “miracle” had happened. Others would overhear, and join in. I would instantly feel forehead, upper lip, and low back-sweat from the sudden attention. All I’d wanted was a snack. Now, crudite in hand, I was up against the food table, being advised by pretty, chipper moms bouncing beautiful, pudgy babies on their hips.
A lot of “You Should” advice came my way. From the “latest technique in Europe,” to “just adopt from China” – everyone weighed in. I understood it all came from them wanting to help. It was meant with goodwill. But it was a painful, overwhelming subject for me. I just wanted to throw dip in the air and run. Those were the nice women. Some women were, um, well… they were turds.
The success of my first movie coincided with some awful events in my quest to be a mom. I’ll keep the details private, but quite frankly, it sucked. I was emotionally and physically exhausted.
During this time, I would run into The Coven – a group of not-nice-women. These women had, at one time, been actresses. Now they were married to men in the film industry, or their husbands were in our social circle. They made me nervous.
We all know the type of woman I’m talking about here: the ones who say nasty things to women. The Coven seemed stymied by the fact that they were not working actresses and I, far less attractive, appealing and talented than them, was. Often, I can tell when I walk in a room how people feel about themselves. To the optimist, I represent hope of what is possible. But to the pessimist, I represent the stench of their own perceived failure. I will be the first to admit, wow, I stepped into some good fortune with my first movie. I don’t consider myself particularly special. I got lucky. These women would wholeheartedly agree with my assessment of myself. Sadly, they were not secure women. When they saw me, their mascara’d eyes would shoot daggers at my skull.
Now, as the gossip leaked out that I was struggling to have a child, while these women were on their second and third – they realized they had something over me. They could breed. And I couldn’t.
So, at a casual backyard barbecue, where all were invited to celebrate Mother’s Day, the women of The Coven would surround me, the barren one, to squeal about how “amaaaaazing” their pregnancies had been. How their husbands had looked at them with “awe and gratitude” as they gave birth. How breastfeeding was a “gift.” One woman actually made fun of my anatomy while proclaiming how her body worked “perfectly.” It was sad how they needed to make me feel inadequate, and yes it hurt. And sure, I could have innocently asked: “…did pregnancy hormones grow your moustache, or did you have it before?” But I didn’t. Not because I was so evolved and took the high road… nope, I was scared of them so I would escape as quickly as I could.
Women like this are missing out on real female friendships. Okay, maybe it’s just shoe shopping and cellulite talk, but I value it. I was happy for these women who got to be moms. Why couldn’t they just be kind? It was Mother’s Day after all.
No matter where I went on this day, I was an easy target. If I drank anything non-alcoholic, there were women who would pat my tummy and say “when are you due?” A small social guideline: don’t ask a woman if she is pregnant, unless her water breaks on your flip-flops, a baby arm dangles out of her vagina and she asks you to cut the cord. Then, and only then, may you ask if she is having a baby. Otherwise, shut up.
So, for years, I avoided venturing out on Mother’s Day. I feared the entire day and the feeling of failure it would bring. I would call my sisters, sister-in-law and mom on that day and wish them well. They had the grace and kind-heartedness to never admonish me for not trying this technique, or that plan. My sweet family and my good kind friends never pried. They would always listen when I asked for advice, or when I lost it after the latest route or adoption had fallen through. One good friend even quietly handed me a prayer card.
My own mother is kind, compassionate, ironic, focused, optimistic and above all, discreet. Sadly, some of our friends have lost their mothers. I am thankful for every day I have with mine. My mom possesses all the values I cherish and look for in my friendships and relationships.
And, when my husband and I told our family and friends we’d been matched with our perfect daughter through American Foster Care – their elation was profoundly moving. They welcomed our then three-year-old daughter with a joy and happiness that was beyond anything I could have imagined. There is no limit to the amount of attention, kindness and warmth our families and friends - the “aunties” and “uncles” - shower on our daughter. Over a year later, she is thriving in an environment of love and care.
Some of these people are not parents. Often, at parties, especially on Mother’s Day, these friends and family are the target of the well-meaning questions or downright spiteful comments I myself once endured.
Please, on Mother’s Day, have some compassion. If you see someone without kids, do not ask them why they don’t have children, why they don’t just adopt, or if they are pregnant. Please be kind. Be quiet and pass the dip.
I am writing this for the friends and family who listened, didn’t pry, and above all stuck with me on my quest to be a mom. If I am happy on May 9th, it’s largely because of these people’s quiet empathy and unending encouragement. And, if I am happy on this day, it’s because I am in love with being a mom and so grateful for the circumstances, as painful as they were, that led me to my wonderful daughter. Happy Mother’s Day everyone. I hope you buy some flowers, eat a fattening brunch, and laugh all day.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go call my mom.
Editor's Note: Nia Vardalos is the National Adoption Day Spokesperson
May 02, 2010
a blog from a fellow IFer that touched my heart
When I was in my twenties a lady I worked with told me a story about the birth of her first child. She had endured something like twelve hours of difficult labor followed by an emergency c-section. When it was all over, baby in arms, her husband looked into her eyes and said, "I just fell in love with you all over again."
This story has haunted me lately. It's so difficult to know that I will never give my husband the gift of growing a child in my womb made of part of him and part of me. I will never give him the gift of laboring to bring that child into the world, and he will never look into my eyes and tell me that his love for me has been reborn.
*pause for sadness*
When my husband and I finally got off the treatment roller coaster I didn't recognize our marriage anymore. For a while infertility treatments made us stronger and drew us closer, but eventually the constant disappointment destroyed us. My depression grew stronger than our relationship. My husband became more and more frustrated because he could not solve this problem. He could not succeed as a husband and make me happy. I could not succeed as a wife and give him the child that I so desperately wanted to give. Infertility led to financial problems and destroyed our physical intimacy. We were broken.
I'm happy to say that we are rebuilding. I'm thrilled to report that our marriage is getting stronger. We are smiling, laughing, planning, touching, hugging, kissing, joking, and talking. We are starting to become "us" again.
But still that woman's story haunted me. Can we ever have the kind of love that two people have when they build a family together?
The answer is no. We can't have that love. We have something different. Tony and I walked through hell together. We may not have always been looking into each other's eyes while we walked, but we always held each other's hands. We did it together. Our hopes were raised together. Our souls were rocked together. Our dreams were destroyed together.
We are falling in love with each other all over again. And that love feels so special and so true. It didn't come from a place of joy where love is easy. It came from a place of despair. We had a choice and we chose us.
This story has haunted me lately. It's so difficult to know that I will never give my husband the gift of growing a child in my womb made of part of him and part of me. I will never give him the gift of laboring to bring that child into the world, and he will never look into my eyes and tell me that his love for me has been reborn.
*pause for sadness*
When my husband and I finally got off the treatment roller coaster I didn't recognize our marriage anymore. For a while infertility treatments made us stronger and drew us closer, but eventually the constant disappointment destroyed us. My depression grew stronger than our relationship. My husband became more and more frustrated because he could not solve this problem. He could not succeed as a husband and make me happy. I could not succeed as a wife and give him the child that I so desperately wanted to give. Infertility led to financial problems and destroyed our physical intimacy. We were broken.
I'm happy to say that we are rebuilding. I'm thrilled to report that our marriage is getting stronger. We are smiling, laughing, planning, touching, hugging, kissing, joking, and talking. We are starting to become "us" again.
But still that woman's story haunted me. Can we ever have the kind of love that two people have when they build a family together?
The answer is no. We can't have that love. We have something different. Tony and I walked through hell together. We may not have always been looking into each other's eyes while we walked, but we always held each other's hands. We did it together. Our hopes were raised together. Our souls were rocked together. Our dreams were destroyed together.
We are falling in love with each other all over again. And that love feels so special and so true. It didn't come from a place of joy where love is easy. It came from a place of despair. We had a choice and we chose us.
April 30, 2010
Last Chance IUI
Today is the day. I have never been so scared and excited at the same time. I wish I could push all of the what-ifs out of my head.
The procedure was not a dream come true like last time. It was very painful, although I am glad that the RE was able to get all the way in.
Now we wait....
In 2 days I will start the progesterone and will continue for the next 2 weeks.
The procedure was not a dream come true like last time. It was very painful, although I am glad that the RE was able to get all the way in.
Now we wait....
In 2 days I will start the progesterone and will continue for the next 2 weeks.
April 29, 2010
Final monitoring
My last sonogram was done today. Wow were those follicles growing! The RE mentioned that I had 2 follicles at size 20. This is a big growth as 3 days before that they were 13s. Generally they grow 1mm each day. Mine grew about 2mm each day, I suppose that could be because of the increase in medication for me. I am not sure what sizes the other follicles were but I would estimate they grew about 4-6mm from what they were at my last appointment as well. I do not know what the odds of all of those follicles having eggs, or how many eggs might be released. I was given my HCG shot right there on the spot and told to come back tomorrow for the IUI @ 9am.
My abdomen has been feeling really full and I have been taking naps every day (so not normal for me). My mind feels fuzzy much of the time, like I cant completely concentrate on anything completely.
My Mr. is an amazing man. We don't sit down and have long drawn out conversations about what is going on, but we do discuss our fears, dreams, hopes. We hope and pray that it works this time. We know there is a much higher chance of getting pregnant this month but IF we don't we also know that it isn't the end of our journey. We know people who have gotten pregnant spontaneously after going through much more, with DX of IF and knowing what is wrong. We wont give up our hope, although sometimes it is insanely difficult and we feel as though we have been run over by a dump truck.
My abdomen has been feeling really full and I have been taking naps every day (so not normal for me). My mind feels fuzzy much of the time, like I cant completely concentrate on anything completely.
My Mr. is an amazing man. We don't sit down and have long drawn out conversations about what is going on, but we do discuss our fears, dreams, hopes. We hope and pray that it works this time. We know there is a much higher chance of getting pregnant this month but IF we don't we also know that it isn't the end of our journey. We know people who have gotten pregnant spontaneously after going through much more, with DX of IF and knowing what is wrong. We wont give up our hope, although sometimes it is insanely difficult and we feel as though we have been run over by a dump truck.
April 28, 2010
blog from IFer who finds reasons to smile through IF
Why am I not pregnant yet? I ask. I plead. I beg,
Why won’t Mr. Sperm just fertilize my egg?
It feels like everyone is pregnant, everyone but us,
Please let us jump on board this crowded fertile bus.
Baby bumps are everywhere! Please just grant our wish,
Even our goldfish, Patches, is expecting a baby fish!
Celebrities seem to sport a bump and a pregnant glow,
While I get bloated from fertility meds and curse my Aunty Flo.
We have tried EVERYTHING from doctors to special tea,
Every month, we plant our seeds so fertilize my tree!
And then we have to wait and wait to get our special sign,
But still a negative pregnancy test flashes just one line.
I can’t wait to be a mom, it will fill my life with roses,
Bring on the dirty diapers, puke and runny noses!
Our hearts are filled with anguish and our throats just have a lump,
We just want our miracle baby and that special baby bump.
But one day it will be our turn, I really do believe,
Our miracle will happen and then I will conceive.
Until then, we will save our tears and just learn how to cope,
We will still enjoy our lives and hold onto hope.
Why won’t Mr. Sperm just fertilize my egg?
It feels like everyone is pregnant, everyone but us,
Please let us jump on board this crowded fertile bus.
Baby bumps are everywhere! Please just grant our wish,
Even our goldfish, Patches, is expecting a baby fish!
Celebrities seem to sport a bump and a pregnant glow,
While I get bloated from fertility meds and curse my Aunty Flo.
We have tried EVERYTHING from doctors to special tea,
Every month, we plant our seeds so fertilize my tree!
And then we have to wait and wait to get our special sign,
But still a negative pregnancy test flashes just one line.
I can’t wait to be a mom, it will fill my life with roses,
Bring on the dirty diapers, puke and runny noses!
Our hearts are filled with anguish and our throats just have a lump,
We just want our miracle baby and that special baby bump.
But one day it will be our turn, I really do believe,
Our miracle will happen and then I will conceive.
Until then, we will save our tears and just learn how to cope,
We will still enjoy our lives and hold onto hope.
April 26, 2010
Mid-cycle
Had my mid-cycle appointment this morning. Luckily I did not have Ms. Meany-pants. The nurse took a look and said everything is looking good. My lining is over a 10. I have 4 follicles on each ovary and 2 on each side are growing nicely. The right side has 2 follicles at size 13+ and the left has 2 follicles at 11+ and 10+. We are praying in the next 3 days the left side catches up to the right side. I am to continue with the 3amps Menopur and go back to the RE on Thursday. We are looking at a Friday or Saturday IUI.
I am scared that this is our last shot.
I am frightened it wont work, or if it does that the pregnancy wont be viable.
I am prayerful. Lord please help me through this.
I am scared that this is our last shot.
I am frightened it wont work, or if it does that the pregnancy wont be viable.
I am prayerful. Lord please help me through this.
April 23, 2010
blog from IFer who did 5 IVFs
I'm doing ok.
Most of the time.
Sometimes I'm living the phrase "fake it til you make it" to keep a good perspective on life and infertility. And what it has done to me.
Believe me, it has done a number on me.
And I don' t always have to fake it. Most of the time I am genuinely happy. And genuinely happy for others as they attain what I cannot. That's a switch, as I must confess there was a time, when I was deep in the trenches of IVF, that seeing someone else succeed grabbed me around the heart and squeezed hard as I would have that desperate sense that "there's another BFP gone and it wasn't mine." I know you understand.
Recently I was on an IF blog and saw a link to a whole lotta CCRM blogs, all grouped together. And you know they were nearly all successes.
Maybe I should stop reading IF blogs? I try to keep supporting those who are in the trenches, sometimes I get support back, but sometimes not. I know there's not as much to say when someone's not actively in the process.
Seeing that dedicated CCRM blog roll just reminded me that I'm in such an isolated club. Yes, I know there are other members and man am I glad to have found them, though sorry they're in it with me. And I know there are so many 'clubs' of IF that are horrible and awful and dreadful but why do there have to be any at all? Why did this have to happen this way?
I love to read Lis's blog because she is so raw and honest. I hate with all my heart what has happened to her but I'm honored to know her and to support her on her journey. She wrote a post recently entitled "Still." She wrote this: "it still hits me about three minutes after i wake up" and she is referring to the loss of her beautiful twin girls.
While I have not suffered a physical loss such as she has, it still sometimes hits me that I'm infertile. That we're at the end of the road. We're done with massive amounts of treatment and it did.not.work.
Huh?
It didn't work? How's that again?
How is it that we poured every ounce of our being into making a baby and couldn't? How is it that the top clinic in the country couldn't help us, not once, but twice? How is it that we went through five in vitro cycles and still are only attending birthday parties and baby showers as outside guests and never holding our own?
Huh?
So yeah, I know I wrote my last post about not being paralyzed.
I'm not.
But I still hurt.
Somedays more than others. Somedays not much at all. Somedays so much I think all the healing has been for nothing because I'll never be healed.
Damn.
...........................
I know that we have not been through nearly as much as this woman and her husband but many of the same sentaments are true for us as well. We arent yet imbarking on the IVF journey but we have gone through 6 IUI's. I am fearful that this could be my story. Dear Lord, please bless us with our baby.
Most of the time.
Sometimes I'm living the phrase "fake it til you make it" to keep a good perspective on life and infertility. And what it has done to me.
Believe me, it has done a number on me.
And I don' t always have to fake it. Most of the time I am genuinely happy. And genuinely happy for others as they attain what I cannot. That's a switch, as I must confess there was a time, when I was deep in the trenches of IVF, that seeing someone else succeed grabbed me around the heart and squeezed hard as I would have that desperate sense that "there's another BFP gone and it wasn't mine." I know you understand.
Recently I was on an IF blog and saw a link to a whole lotta CCRM blogs, all grouped together. And you know they were nearly all successes.
Maybe I should stop reading IF blogs? I try to keep supporting those who are in the trenches, sometimes I get support back, but sometimes not. I know there's not as much to say when someone's not actively in the process.
Seeing that dedicated CCRM blog roll just reminded me that I'm in such an isolated club. Yes, I know there are other members and man am I glad to have found them, though sorry they're in it with me. And I know there are so many 'clubs' of IF that are horrible and awful and dreadful but why do there have to be any at all? Why did this have to happen this way?
I love to read Lis's blog because she is so raw and honest. I hate with all my heart what has happened to her but I'm honored to know her and to support her on her journey. She wrote a post recently entitled "Still." She wrote this: "it still hits me about three minutes after i wake up" and she is referring to the loss of her beautiful twin girls.
While I have not suffered a physical loss such as she has, it still sometimes hits me that I'm infertile. That we're at the end of the road. We're done with massive amounts of treatment and it did.not.work.
Huh?
It didn't work? How's that again?
How is it that we poured every ounce of our being into making a baby and couldn't? How is it that the top clinic in the country couldn't help us, not once, but twice? How is it that we went through five in vitro cycles and still are only attending birthday parties and baby showers as outside guests and never holding our own?
Huh?
So yeah, I know I wrote my last post about not being paralyzed.
I'm not.
But I still hurt.
Somedays more than others. Somedays not much at all. Somedays so much I think all the healing has been for nothing because I'll never be healed.
Damn.
...........................
I know that we have not been through nearly as much as this woman and her husband but many of the same sentaments are true for us as well. We arent yet imbarking on the IVF journey but we have gone through 6 IUI's. I am fearful that this could be my story. Dear Lord, please bless us with our baby.
April 22, 2010
post from fellow IFer who already had 1 miscarriage
I had a post all typed up yesterday about how nervous I was about the ultrasound today. I listed all the things that I thought could go wrong - no fetal pole, no heartbeat, empty sac, no yolk sac. Funny thing is the one thing that happened, I didn't mention on that list. I didn't publish that post because it was pretty lame bunch of rambling and I knew only time would tell if things were okay.
Last night I was having some serious abdominal cramping. I couldn't figure out what was causing it but thought it might be gas / constipation. Then just before bed, I saw it, bright red blood flowing. Fuck, I thought, it's over.
I cried big wet tears last night and finally got myself to sleep. Overnight I didn't have much more significant bleeding, just a bit of brown on the pad when I got up this morning. So, I wasn't feeling very positive about the pregnancy, but I thought maybe, just maybe there was a chance that things were still okay. I cried most of the way to the doctor's office and I was petrified of what was going to come out of that appointment.
The ultrasound was long. After a few minutes of moving and clicking, the tech told me she couldn't find anything in my uterus. Obviously not good news. I asked if maybe since the dates were off and it implanted late if it could still be too small to see. Not really with the way my beta levels were last week. Then she said she would start looking in the fallopian tubes. She saw something that looked suspicious in my right tube and went to grab the doctor.
My doctor came in and said that I was 6 weeks today and there should be something visible in the uterus at this point if this was a viable pregnancy, even if I was a few days behind. After looking at the suspicious mass in my tube, she said that this is an ectopic pregnancy and they'll draw blood and if my beta levels are still rising, they'll give me methatrexate to dissolve the pregnancy tomorrow morning. Then I we'll be out of TTC for another 3 months. If they're low, I might get out of getting the shot if the pregnancy is being dissolved naturally, but either way, this pregnancy is not viable. There's no way that this could work.
Goodbye, 2010 baby. Goodbye my little amazing surprise.
Another time where my hopes a dreams get crushed.
Why is this happening? Can't I catch a fucking break at some point? How the hell am I supposed to go on? How the heck am I supposed to function after all of this heartache?
Why me? Why can't I have a baby? Why does my wanting heart get stomped on over and over again? Why is this so fucking hard?
I don't know what to do with myself. I took the day off of work. I don't know if I'll be able to make it in tomorrow. I don't know how I'm supposed to care about anything right now. I don't know what I'm supposed to do.
Last night I was having some serious abdominal cramping. I couldn't figure out what was causing it but thought it might be gas / constipation. Then just before bed, I saw it, bright red blood flowing. Fuck, I thought, it's over.
I cried big wet tears last night and finally got myself to sleep. Overnight I didn't have much more significant bleeding, just a bit of brown on the pad when I got up this morning. So, I wasn't feeling very positive about the pregnancy, but I thought maybe, just maybe there was a chance that things were still okay. I cried most of the way to the doctor's office and I was petrified of what was going to come out of that appointment.
The ultrasound was long. After a few minutes of moving and clicking, the tech told me she couldn't find anything in my uterus. Obviously not good news. I asked if maybe since the dates were off and it implanted late if it could still be too small to see. Not really with the way my beta levels were last week. Then she said she would start looking in the fallopian tubes. She saw something that looked suspicious in my right tube and went to grab the doctor.
My doctor came in and said that I was 6 weeks today and there should be something visible in the uterus at this point if this was a viable pregnancy, even if I was a few days behind. After looking at the suspicious mass in my tube, she said that this is an ectopic pregnancy and they'll draw blood and if my beta levels are still rising, they'll give me methatrexate to dissolve the pregnancy tomorrow morning. Then I we'll be out of TTC for another 3 months. If they're low, I might get out of getting the shot if the pregnancy is being dissolved naturally, but either way, this pregnancy is not viable. There's no way that this could work.
Goodbye, 2010 baby. Goodbye my little amazing surprise.
Another time where my hopes a dreams get crushed.
Why is this happening? Can't I catch a fucking break at some point? How the hell am I supposed to go on? How the heck am I supposed to function after all of this heartache?
Why me? Why can't I have a baby? Why does my wanting heart get stomped on over and over again? Why is this so fucking hard?
I don't know what to do with myself. I took the day off of work. I don't know if I'll be able to make it in tomorrow. I don't know how I'm supposed to care about anything right now. I don't know what I'm supposed to do.
April 16, 2010
Last Chance
I went in for my baseline appointment and I was given the all clear. The 3 cysts are gone, thank the Lord! The protocol for this round has been changed slightly. I will still take 2 tablets of Clomid for 5 days. After that I will be doing 3amps of Menopur (up from 2 the previous cycles) until the follicles are large enough and we are ready to do the IUI.
The nurse I saw today was quite rude. Telling me it was not okay to show up on day 2 of my cycle instead of day 3. (does it really make a difference?) She reprimanded me even though I explained I had to be down at my mom's that evening and there was no way I would have been able to come in on Saturday morning. Said next time if that happened I would just have to cancel the cycle and come back the following month. (look at my chart, there wont be a NEXT MONTH!) I really dislike her. She is always in a foul mood.
The nurse I saw today was quite rude. Telling me it was not okay to show up on day 2 of my cycle instead of day 3. (does it really make a difference?) She reprimanded me even though I explained I had to be down at my mom's that evening and there was no way I would have been able to come in on Saturday morning. Said next time if that happened I would just have to cancel the cycle and come back the following month. (look at my chart, there wont be a NEXT MONTH!) I really dislike her. She is always in a foul mood.
April 15, 2010
April 01, 2010
post from IFer that really resonated with me
I'm feeling "bored" with infertility. I'm just so over it. Give me a new challenge because I suck at this one.
We've been TTC for four years. This is ridiculous.*
As we go through this IUI, it just seems like were going through the motions. In my gut, I just feel that it's not going to work. And, this doesn't feel particularly upsetting. It just feels realistic. I've been feeling more annoyed about the time, money and effort involved than sad about the fact that a baby is not in our future.
I've assimilated to the fact that my relationships with most of my friends is forever changed. I'm totally comfortable saying no to baby showers, 1st birthday parties, etc. I've learned to avoid the most painful infertility "triggers". I have an "edge" that I didn't used to, but that's ok. The emptiness, bitterness, pain, sadness, and loneliness (and hope?) are all still there, but they are contained (usually). I am thankful for so many great things in my life.
I know that in time I'll feel differently than I do now. Even though the TTC goal is a constant, nothing else about IF is. For now, I'll just enjoy the break from tears, overanalysis, etc.
I'm wishing everyone a wonderful weekend and Easter. I have my IUI procedure today and will send out an update on that before too long.
*I know there are those out there who have been trying for longer and have endured more.
We've been TTC for four years. This is ridiculous.*
As we go through this IUI, it just seems like were going through the motions. In my gut, I just feel that it's not going to work. And, this doesn't feel particularly upsetting. It just feels realistic. I've been feeling more annoyed about the time, money and effort involved than sad about the fact that a baby is not in our future.
I've assimilated to the fact that my relationships with most of my friends is forever changed. I'm totally comfortable saying no to baby showers, 1st birthday parties, etc. I've learned to avoid the most painful infertility "triggers". I have an "edge" that I didn't used to, but that's ok. The emptiness, bitterness, pain, sadness, and loneliness (and hope?) are all still there, but they are contained (usually). I am thankful for so many great things in my life.
I know that in time I'll feel differently than I do now. Even though the TTC goal is a constant, nothing else about IF is. For now, I'll just enjoy the break from tears, overanalysis, etc.
I'm wishing everyone a wonderful weekend and Easter. I have my IUI procedure today and will send out an update on that before too long.
*I know there are those out there who have been trying for longer and have endured more.
March 15, 2010
Cystic
I had to drag myself into the office this month. I was not in a good place emotionally. The thought of beginning the process all over again after the 5th BFN was daunting. Gayle did my baseline sonogram and found 3 cysts on my ovaries.
I was semi relieved that no treatment would be happening this month. However, I was worried about the cysts. As long as they go away in the next month we will begin treatment again in April. If the cysts dont go away I will probably have to go through a procedure to remove them.
I am scared to think about all the questions that will have to be answered if we dont get a positive result during our last IUI attempt. But I am terrified of not being able to move forward.
I am scared to think about all the questions that will have to be answered if we dont get a positive result during our last IUI attempt. But I am terrified of not being able to move forward.
February 25, 2010
February 17, 2010
Refrigerate your meds
What do you do if you have to head down to San Diego and you have Progesterone suppositories you need to keep cold?
You stop off at the Mobil and get a giant cup of ice of course.
February 16, 2010
5th times the charm... ?
Yesterday, Feb 15th was IUI #5. Really hoping 5 is our lucky number. My Mr. got up bright and early to do his thing. I headed off to Kaiser and arrived just on time for my appointment. Went back to the REs office and had my blood pressure taken. Then the boys headed to the contraption below which spins them around to get the best ones and give them a wash. 
About 55 minutes I was called back to empty my bladder and get ready for the procedure. When you get to the room there is always a microscope set up so you can take a look at your possible future children. 
About 55 minutes I was called back to empty my bladder and get ready for the procedure. When you get to the room there is always a microscope set up so you can take a look at your possible future children. This is the tray set up with some of the tools that will be used for the IUI. 
I was concerned that the New Girl was doing my IUI solo, the fact that I had not been instructed to use my Cytotec or had the opportunity to use the Lamineria. I just started to pray! With the memory of the last very painful IUI fresh in my brain I was freaking out on the inside.
I was concerned that the New Girl was doing my IUI solo, the fact that I had not been instructed to use my Cytotec or had the opportunity to use the Lamineria. I just started to pray! With the memory of the last very painful IUI fresh in my brain I was freaking out on the inside.The New Girl was amazing though! She did not have to use a clamp as they have had to in the past so I didn't have any bleeding. New Girl claimed to have gotten all the way in, which I want to believe in my core but it is hard since last time it hurt so bad to get it in there. She also used a very different technique of having me lift and lower my bum slowly about half a dozen times during the procedure while she was inserting the catheter. Again amazing, there was some pain but it was minimal. I had a bit of discomfort and cramping but again minimal. Praise GOD!!!
Now comes the dreaded TWO WEEK WAIT.
Starting tomorrow I will be using Progesterone vaginal suppositories for the next two weeks. I will have my beta test on March 1st. If it comes back positive I will be continuing the Progesterone till I am 12 weeks pregnant. In the sad fact of it being negative I stop the Progesterone and head back to the REs office on the first day of my next cycle.
Come on little miracle. It is time for you to show your face!
Praying now that this is THE month, that the New Girl did actually get everything where it belongs and everything will move forward smoothly from this point.
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