Trials and Tribulations for the TTC

This is a very difficult post to write. Blogs are supposed to give you the freedom to be yourself, write what you want, express how you really feel. But honestly, I normally write about what I might want to document, what people might find interesting, and it is always censored just a bit. Well I'm about to be brutally, hurt your feelings, gut wrenching honest about something that is so very personal. "Why?" you might ask; more on that later.

So here goes. I have officially joined the club for the fertility challenged, or infertile. Sam and I have been trying to conceive since May 2011. We've suffered the loss of a miscarriage and are now dealing with the diagnosis of anovulation. It has been a heart stopping, tear ridden journey from the beginning. At first, my plan was to blog about my circumstances, and then release the blogs once I was finally pregnant. I thought it wouldn't be so embarrassing once I had finally conquered the problem and was successful at conceiving a healthy baby. However, after the news we received from my doctor today, it doesn't sound like that pregnancy will be anytime soon. Honestly, I'm so torn over releasing this information to the world. It seems so very personal, and so very secretive in our culture. I'm not looking for sympathy, but I would love for someone, somewhere to hear my story, feel my pain, and become a confidant in this long journey towards motherhood. Friends and family are great, but honestly I really want someone who knows and understands what I'm feeling, who can commiserate about the pain of baby showers, who will understand the pain of losing your first conceived child, who will listen to my grumblings and complaints without feeling the need for platitudes. Plus, I think the very best therapy through this process would be if I could be there for someone else. If I can tell someone, "you aren't alone, I'm here, and I know what you are going through," I think I might find some purpose in the process.

In the next few weeks I will try to get the blog updated with all of the posts I haven't published and get the whole story out there so it is up to date. From there, I promise to do my very best not to turn this blog into a journal of woes. I'll do my best to keep you updated on the fun and happiness that is in store for the Greavu's. Because despite this daunting path set before us to walk, the Lord is still so good, and has blessed us richly. There are some fun and exciting things ahead for the Greavu family: We are less than 2 weeks away from our second anniversary, and (drum roll please) only four months until we can say "sayonara Augusta!" So hang in there with me, and if you are someone, or if you know someone who has been there, done that, or who is currently in the grips of infertility, feel free to send me a shout out or contact me privately. Like I said, I would LOVE a companion in all of this (though I'm sad for you too).

amanda.greavu@gmail.com

Bad News

So I called my doctor yesterday because I still had not gotten a positive OPK test. He gave the option of coming in for an ultrasound now or the week after my next period. I chose now. The ultrasound is so hard to understand. All I saw the whole time was fuzzy gray with two huge black spots, which I assumed were my ovaries. I was so bummed because I didn't see little follicles all over with my little eggs inside. Boy was I wrong. My doctor informed me that, no those weren't my ovaries, but two very large cysts, one in each ovary.

The bad news: I have to cancel all treatments for THREE MONTHS and wait to see if these shrink by themselves. That means no clomid, no new treatments, no nothing. This takes my chances of getting pregnant pretty much down to nil. On top of that, my doctor advised that it would be in my best interest to go on birth control for the next three months in hopes that this will help the cysts subside, and might regulate my cycles so that when I come off, my body is more ready to cooperate. I get all that, but man is it hard, when you are so desperate, to consciously choose to eliminate any chance of pregnancy.

The scary news: If these don't go away within three months, I will probably have to have surgery to remove them from both of my ovaries. And the process of waiting is not risk free. The cysts are so large that I am at a greater risk for a ruptured ovary and torsion (twisted ovary). I could end up literally losing one or both of my ovaries. Talk about scary news to someone who wants children more than anything.

I'm trying to stay calm, and honestly right now, I'm kind of numb. This just doesn't seem real. How many things can possibly go wrong in this process that seems so simple for everyone else. Trying to keep my head up, and trust that my doctor knows what he's talking about, and that the Lord is in control here.

Another One Bites the Dust

The baby dust that is. Baby dust is what fellow TTCers sprinkle your way when they are wishing you good luck. Message boards are full of baby dust showers and sprinkles.

Yesterday, Sam dropped the bomb on me that another one of our friends is pregnant. I literally burst into tears. The angry green jealousy monster that permanently resides in me reared her ugly head. I didn't want to know any details, how far along, boy/girl, nothing! But because I'm sick and twisted and love pain, I asked. The icing on the cake: they weren't even trying. My mood for the day plummeted! I couldn't even scrounge up a lick of joy or excitement for them. I just sat in my dark, lonely head and threw a pity party.

Today, my head is a little more clear. I truly am so very happy for them! They will make amazing parents! I wish I didn't react this way, but when caught off guard, I tend to react negatively until I have time to process the news and realign my thoughts.

Before you judge me too negatively, know that I am not only a desperate woman, but also affected by fertility meds that seem to enhance my craziness. Also, let me assure you who are not in the midst of trying to conceive, I am not alone in my crazy reactions: I will leave you with an excerpt from the book Every Drunken Cheerleader: Why Not Me?

When it comes to handling baby showers or the big announcement that yet another friend is pregnant, you get pretty good at faking congratulations. While you are undeniably happy for your friend or family member that God has chosen to be a mother, you are reminded by the way of the announcement that He has not yet chosen you. The pendulum of emotion can be dizzying. I have made no secret through writing this book that I suffered a serious case of jealousy. I can only apologize to myself and those I love for the green monster that manipulated me for such a long time. I once read that jealousy is like taking poison and expecting the other person to die. It is true that the person who suffers most in this unbalanced emotional state is the one chewing on the jagged pill of envy.

Truly, like this author states, it's not an issue that I wish they weren't pregnant, it's simply a reminder, that I'm still not pregnant. It is not a question of why her, but rather why not me? Hopefully with time, I'll learn to react in a more positive light (better yet, hopefully I won't have to wait long enough to learn that lesson).

Aunt Amanda

I'm an aunt! Shane and Hollei had their baby girl Friday, March 9! Sam and I made it home for a very brief visit, but I was happy to get to meet her. Hollei had informed us all earlier in the week that her doctor had scheduled her to be induced in two weeks, so I mistakenly assumed that meant it was very unlikely she would go into labor before her due date. I was incredible surprised to hear that her water broke early Friday morning. Sam and I had already scheduled a game night at our house for Saturday, so we decided to stick around, enjoy the party, and head home after.

Saturday we had a busy day getting ready for the party, and I was super jealous that my mom got to spend the whole day at the hospital. We had a great night at the party though! Lots of laughter with some great friends! We finished up the party a little after 10, and then loaded up the car to head home. Sadly all of this excitement also coincided with the start of daylight savings time, so we officially got home to my mom's house a little after 2 o'clock. To compound the sleepless night, Sterling was up all night throwing up because of the bone he literally demolished during the party. Needless to say, Sam and I were exhausted Sunday morning, but we were up and ready by about 8, and at least one of us was excited.

And finally, I got to meet my sweet niece, Alexis Christine Whelchel:

Miss Lexi: 6lbs 4oz 19in

Happy Grandma

Such a sweet family!

Sleepy baby! So sweet!

Sadly, Sam has lots of schoolwork so we couldn't head home again this weekend, but my mom is getting lots of snuggle time with baby Lexi. Shane and Hollei are staying with her for the weekend! Here is baby Lexi at one week old!

Clomid- Round 2

The roller coaster continues and that's really all I can say. I'm in a funk tonight wishing I could snuggle with my husband and unload all my heartache to him, but he's off to bible study. And honestly, I wouldn't anyway. It doesn't help. He is emotionally unable to provide what I'm looking for in these darkest hours (no fault of his own, I doubt any man can). I guess it is partially due to his maleness, partially his personality, and partially that he is sick of the whole TTC process. What I really need is a friend to go through this with me. I don't even have to know the person, it could be a faceless person across the country. I just need someone to talk to who really understands.

But I'm trying to stay as hopeful as I can. I start round 2 of Clomid tonight, which means the wicked witch of the west is moving in to my house for the next week or so. I'm upping the dose from 100mg to 150mg. The doctor is hoping that this will move my ovulation day up. I just want to be in the "normal range" this month... under 18 days.

I'm also thinking about taking up yoga. The doctor gave me the all clear as long as I stick to gentle stretching. Maybe yoga would help me deal with the overload of stress from this whole process and get rid of some of the weight that I've tacked on that I can only blame on moodiness and a sedentary lifestyle.

Well that's it for tonight... If I continue on I will only convince my readers of a bleak outlook on life as I throw myself another pity party. Here's to hoping that 150mg kicks my ovaries into high gear (but not overdrive) and that the husband still wants to baby dance!

2WW

For those of you not up on your TTC lingo, 2WW means two week wait. Basically referring to the average two week time frame between ovulation and the expected start of the next cycle. And let me tell you, fourteen days have never seemed so long. I'll admit, I cheat all the time and test early, which is totally dumb because even when I get a negative, I don't accept it. I tell myself "maybe it was too early". So I convince myself to wait a few more days and waste another three dollars. Another admission: I don't usually even have to wait two weeks. I have long cycles, but my luteal phase (the time from ovulation to menstruation) averages about ten days.

Well not this cycle! Although the clomid did nothing to move my ovulation date up, it seems to have increased my luteal phase, which is good. A short luteal phase, known as luteal phase defect, is a serious hindrance to implantation. Basically I can conceive, but the fertilized egg doesn't have the time to implant in the uterus before my body starts sending the "cancel" signal to start preparing for menstruation. A fourteen day luteal phase is considered perfect (exactly two weeks) and that is exactly what I am sitting on today. Tomorrow I can test with moderate confidence. But these fourteen days have been an emotional roller coaster. I simply expect my period by day twelve at the latest. The only time I've gone longer, I was pregnant, so you can imagine every day past ten, my heart inflates a little more. If AF (aunt flow) shows, my bubble will burst and I will fall quite a distance to smack back onto the pavement of reality.

There is absolutely no way anyone who has not experienced one BFN (big fat negative) after another could possibly understand the emotional toll trying to conceive can have on a woman (and her husband). Even women who experience miscarriage won't necessarily understand. For many, miscarriage is a horrible, overwhelming, devastating period, but they are soon gifted with a healthy pregnancy which helps to alleviate some of that heartache. But infertility, that is another story entirely. Month after month, you ride a roller coaster nightmare. You are strapped in, can't get off, have to finish the ride. The problem is, it never ends, it simply starts again. Some days I feel optimistic, I think to myself, "maybe this is it". Hours or days later, my optimism is missing, replaced by something worse than pessimism. It's called depression. It's dark and lonely. Tears don't clear the air to a brighter outlook, they just leave a stuffy nose and bloodshot eyes. Laughter is half-hearted and hollow. Despite knowing in my head that thousands of women are experiencing the same thing, I feel so alone. There is no one to talk to but Sam and my mom. Sam doesn't like talking about it, and my mom is often too optimistic and cheerful to stomach (sorry mom). She is what the world calls a "glass is half-full" kind of lady, and she has spent twenty-six years trying to help her "glass is half-empty" daughter have a more positive outlook, but to no avail. In these dark moments, I want to wallow in my despair and have someone truly understand. But there is no one. Instead I'm surrounded by happy pregnant ladies looking radiant and full of life who discuss names and nurseries.

I think my 2WW is coming to an end soon, and I don't think I'll get that BFP (big fat positive) this time. My temperature chart is starting to show that downward slide that means AF is coming to visit.

So here is to hoping if she's on her way, she'll come soon, stay short, and that I won't have to see her ugly face again for at least nine months!