The Options

The epic failure of IUI#4 has caused us to take a fresh look at things. Life has changed a lot since IUI#3 way back last fall. We have 2.5 jobs between us. We have money (weird). We are beginning to see the big picture of how student loan debt, a future home, and this little thing called infertility will affect us for the coming years. Decisions about any one thing, affect all of the others.

We've been talking a LOT about where we should go from here. We are seeking wise counsel about our next steps in regards to the big picture and the now. We're trying to make the wisest, most financially secure decisions for our family without doing anything that we will really come to regret.

As I see it, we have a few options for growing our family going forward:

1. Do nothing. All of our money would go to paying off debt and saving for a house. We'd revisit the idea of children in four or five years when we are debt free if we had not been successful on our own in the mean time.
2. Save for IVF. This requires sacrificing the dream of home ownership for the foreseeable future. It also means that we would make minimum payments toward our massive amount of student loan debt, so we'd hold on to that beast for a while.
3. Save for cheap(er) IVF. We could complete saving for IVF in half the time if we revisited the idea of the low cost clinic in our area. If it worked, we would be back on track to pay down debt and buy a house significantly faster.
4. Take out a loan for IVF. We haven't investigated this option at all. We have no idea what the interest rate, loan payments, ect. would look like. But we could potentially do IVF in September or October of THIS year.
5. Skip IVF, move on to adoption. There are of course decisions to make within this: domestic or international. We'd have to find an agency, start saving/fundraising, etc. This could potentially bring us a family faster than IVF (particularly option 2), but it might not, it might be three years.

I see pros and cons of each of these options. The fact that we have options is a blessing, but it's also kind of overwhelming. This is an example of those weighty decisions that feel so huge... the consequences of making the wrong choice could stay with us well into our thirties. And with all of this, there is no guarantee. Absolutely NONE of the options means "bring home baby". My head kind of spins when I even think about these different options. It's overwhelming to say the least.

These are my current thoughts on each:

1. Do nothing. I'm not sure if I have this in me... I don't know if I could "forget" about TTC for four or five years. I feel like I'd have to cut ties with it all... no more blogging about it, no more OPK's no more temping. We'd be closing the door on all of this this. We'd be "not trying, but not preventing". It would be a HUGE leap of faith... one that I don't necessarily feel like I've been asked to make. AND if we came back at the age of 32, to discover our chances at IVF were significantly less, we would always second guess this decision.
2. Save for IVF. This had been the plan for the last nine months. It is only now, that we are employed, that we are actually doing it, but it was always the plan. This is obviously the one I'm most comfortable with as it is the one I'm the most familiar with. I estimate that we'd start IVF in January or February with this plan.
3. Save for cheap(er) IVF. $18,000 becomes $10,000 if we go to the low cost clinic. Simple math tells you we could achieve this faster. I estimate that we could start the process in September or October. But if you remember, this doctor was pretty confident that he found a large fibroid during an initial patient consultation. We've checked, double checked, and cut me open to prove that there is no fibroid. I'm not sure how much I trust him after that. And I'm not sure how I'd feel if IVF failed... would I always wonder if another clinic could have done better?
4. Take out a loan for IVF. Nine months ago, I would have been all over this option. A quick ticket to my maybe baby is EXACTLY what I want. I'm not sure how I feel about this option now. I think I would need some numbers to really make a decision about this. My fear is that Sam (the hater of big ticket expenses) would regret IVF a bazillion times more (if it failed) as we write a check each month.
5. Skip IVF, move on to adoption. Adoption still scares me. I feel like I've kind of "mastered" fertility treatments. I mean, I haven't been successful, but I understand them. I speak the lingo. Adoption would be an entirely new subject to learn... dossiers, finger prints, home studies, agencies. It's a LOT of work, it's a lot of money, etc. I also wonder if either of us would regret skipping IVF. Will we later wish we'd done IVF first, when our chances were highest?

What would you do? Which option would you pick? How do you and your family make these kinds of BIG decisions?

The Days are Long

The days are long, but the years are short. 

My church just finished up an Andy Stanley series called Future Family. In part five, Andy and his wife, Sandra, discuss parenting. I obviously didn't love the series, nor did I get a ton out of this part. It was kind of a "I bet this is great stuff... Remember to buy this message one day if you're ever a parent."  But days after I heard it, this phrase kept coming to my mind. Sandra Stanley says this phrase in reference to parenting, particularly in the early years when it seems like discipline is the only thing you give. She encourages parents to keep a long term view: the days are long, but the years are really, really short.

Then I met with a really wise, beautiful, Godly woman and she said much the same thing, just with different words. She said someday this mess is going to be just a season of life... just a page in our story. It is only right now, in the midst of it, that it seems like this is our whole life. 

I think this is some really great advice for wherever you are in life, wherever you are in your journey: the days are long, but the years are short. Whether your days are filled with long hours at work to pay off debt, or long hours at the bedside of a sick relative, this message holds true for you as well. For us, right now, the decisions seem overwhelming, the finances seem insurmountable, the weight of infertility seems so very, very heavy. The days are long. Some days it is literally all I can do to crawl out of bed and face the day. Some days I count the hours until I can sleep again because I just need to turn my mind off. Even when there are strings of good, or even great days, it seems like our baby will never come. These days can be so long in the waiting. But I have to believe that the years are short, that this time is precious.

And if I truly embrace this idea, if I really lived like the years are short, like this time is worth living and living well, then I've got some life changes to make. It's more than just take time to smell the roses, it's take time to love my husband well, to celebrate the life we do have, to spend the money we earn on one another (gasp) rather than just fertility treatments. Living this looks like an occasional dinner out with friends... game nights at our place... a vacation (those exist?).

I feel like this could become my mantra. When I feel overwhelmed by the now, by the immediate need to make HUGE decisions, by the weight of our budget, I need to remember this:

The days are long, but the years are short.

What about you? Can you see the long term, big picture easily, or do you get caught up or bogged down in the now? What would it look like if you believed and lived like the current years are a short chapter in your life?

Genetic Dead End

Have you ever wondered if you might be a genetic dead end?

Before we go any further, I want to pause. Please read this with an open mind and an un-sensitive heart... I know that for many of you, this might actually be something you have thought about A LOT... Please take this post for what it is: the thoughts being mulled around in my head as we look ahead and look behind. Also, if you're considering or are using donor eggs due to DOR or POF, I understand that this might be a super sensitive subject. But honestly, I'm not really even thinking along those lines... this is more to do with bad genetic code than poor egg quality/quantity.

Okay, so with the disclaimer out of the way... lets embark on a little trip, Magic School Bus style, if you will, into the dark, deep reaches of my mind. Ready, go.

I'm beginning to wonder (umm, maybe wonder more) if our IUI's fail us because of something dark and ominous... bad genes. Hang in there with me for a minute. We've had four "textbook" IUI's. Sure, there have been things that I've pointed at and said, "that... that could have been better", but ultimately, our doctors have loved my response to medication, we've always had "big, beautiful" follicle(s), I've always had a lining within the clinic requirements, we've always had a post wash count over the recommended amount, it's always been "perfect" and yet, not one BFP. Not one. So as I sit here with a very empty uterus and a trash can filled with pregnancy tests with one ugly line, I have to wonder "what has gone wrong?"... and "is it fixable?"

I'll tell you now that this isn't coming from dark place of "woe is me" or depression over the failed IUI. I'm still doing pretty well... I'm just thinking. I feel like this is all good stuff to think through before we officially hand over a check for a car, a down payment on a house, $18,000. So the way I see it, we could have a few options for what has gone wrong (you can let me know if I've left something off): poor egg quality, poor fertilization, bad DNA. Sure I know there are other things... but I feel like the surgery proved that there is nothing preventing implantation, that my tubes are open, that my uterus is normal... the little things are getting checked off... we're zeroing in on some game changers (and game enders).

For some strange reason, the diagnosis of infertility was actually not the first time I thought of this. I was a weird kid... I remember telling my mom in middle school that I thought I'd adopt because I wouldn't want a child to have my genes... I'm sure she thought I was the strangest twelve year old alive. Who thinks of that stuff? But as a middle schooler, I had become convinced that my family was way more messed up than other's... addiction is RAMPANT in my family, I saw all of this awfulness, equated it with the gene pool, and decided I didn't want to put a child through that... at twelve years old. As I've aged I've learned that genes don't determine everything... I'm not an alcoholic, a drug addict, etc. There is a component of choice in all of this (thank God, or I'd be doomed). But I do find it strange and a little ironic that I wanted my DNA contribution to end some fifteen years ago.

Was my wish granted? My thoughts on where we go from here are too long and convoluted at this point... that's another post entirely. But as we talk, make plans, peer into the future, I can't help but wonder if this is all for naught. What if Sam or I are balanced translocation carriers, what if the combination of our DNA yields death every time? What if he or I are meant to be genetic dead ends? Something to think about... We could get all the way to and through IVF only to learn that our DNA is just not compatible... that we cannot support life. I've asked about tests for karyotyping and such before, but I've always been assured that it is only needed if you suffer from reoccurring miscarriages or if IFV fails multiple times. Am I strange for wanting to know now, rather than later?

Have you ever wondered about this sort of thing? Was I the strangest kid in the world? Would you do all you could to find out this type of information before IVF?

I'll be back at a later date to discuss our next steps and "the plan".

Moving On

First of all: thank you. Thank you all for your kind words, for your emails, texts, hugs, Facebook messages, etc. It means so much to me to know that we are so supported in this journey. Saturday's post is already one of "top" posts... a lot of you were waiting on the news. Thank you for being invested in this journey with us. Even if you're simply quietly rooting us on from the sidelines, we feel your care and concern. So thank you.

Today is 14DPIUI and it was still negative. I'm not surprised; I took the test to confirm the negative from Saturday so I can stop taking the progesterone. I'm doing surprisingly well. I had prepared myself for this total meltdown, but it never came. I guess maybe I've just gotten so use to all of this, that on some level I expect one line no matter what. I'm certainly bummed it didn't work. But truthfully, I've just felt so at peace this time. I can't explain it. I've never felt like this before. I keep waiting for this fog to clear, for the numbness to wear off, to totally lose it, but thus far, I'm holding strong and moving on.

I was really proud of myself on Saturday. As I said before, I woke up and just knew. I temped only to see my BBT take a nose dive... further confirmation. I went to pee on my stick knowing what I'd see... further, further confirmation. I told Sam. We snuggled in bed. He fell back to sleep and I got busy with my weekend to do list for my part time job. Once Sam woke up, we decided to head home. I was kind of surprised at my willingness to crawl out of bed and see the light of day... but it seemed like a good idea, so I went with it. We went home, chatted with my mom for a little bit, convinced her to watch Sterling (she's a saint, I tell you) and then went to my in-laws for some pool time. It was lovely. I literally didn't allow myself to think about it at all. I didn't check my emails (thank you for all of your emails though, I've since read them), didn't look at the blog, and didn't dwell on the test. Anytime the thoughts arose, I prayed for peace. It was truly a lovely afternoon with my big boy. I don't know if he was being extra nice or what, but he managed to stay out by the pool for a record breaking three hours... insanity. We ordered a pizza and picked it up on the way back to Athens. Greasy, cheesy pizza was about the only thing that sounded good... and it hit the spot.

As far as my whole "rethink things" side note from Saturday... I haven't thought any further. We haven't talked about it at all. I had a "lets adopt" moment of Saturday morning, but I know that process won't be all instant baby either. The logic behind our plan was sound. IVF makes more sense NOW while we are younger than in five years. And adoption will actually be easier later when we have things like a house, and more years of marriage for the application. But I guess lets just say, I'm opening the topic for discussion again. I'm currently doubting our chances of success with IVF. I think the next step is for both of us to have a little chat with Dr. Slayden... but honestly, I know how that will go. I'll go in full of doubts, and he'll be full of "this is it" and "IVF was made for women like you" and "you're a prime candidate"... and we will leave with semi-renewed hope in the IVF process. And maybe that's just what we need. Maybe one of my doctor's enthusiastic, optimistic, all your dreams will come true speeches is just what we need to get excited again. I'm planning to schedule a joint "what the heck?" and "where do we go from here?" appointment for later this summer (maybe August)... I just need a breather from that office.

So that's where we are: bummed, frustrated, confused. I'm clinging to the Lord and running to His arms, because this is hard stuff. But we're moving on: I can officially say that we are done with IUI's now. On to bigger, better, more complicated, and more expensive methods of adding to our family. The journey continues.

Not This Time

This is going to be brief. I know a lot of you were invested in this cycle right along with me, so I don't want to leave you hanging. The test was negative. I'll, of course, keep taking the progesterone and retest on Monday, but I know how this story ends.

Thank you for all of your prayers, emails, texts, etc. I couldn't have made it through this cycle with my spirit and sanity intact with out all of you. I seriously felt your prayers over the last day or so. I woke up this morning and simply knew. I knew it was negative. I tested to confirm. But I haven't cried (yet). I'm not sure if this is a brief moment of numbness or if this is just me being at peace with the situation. I'm sure as the truth settles in over the next few hours and days, I will have my moments, but for now, I'm doing okay.

The only real thought on my mind is that I want to revisit "the plan". The plan is our blueprint for family building. It says that IVF is next. Right now, I'm not sure how I feel about that. Today, I have no faith in my body's ability to get the job done. Today, I can't think of anything more terrible than creating  beautiful embryos only to watch them die in my body (aka the tomb). But I'm not making any decisions today. Maybe not even this week. These are not the types of decisions you make when you're emotional, nor when your hormones are out of sync. And obviously, we've got to come to a decision about next steps that we both feel good about.

So that's all for now. I'll be back later when I've got a firmer hold on my feelings. I haven't started analyzing what went wrong… I'm sure that will come. I haven't thought of a hundred questions for my doctor… but again, I'm sure that will come. For now, I'm just going to get though this day. One day at a time ladies, one day at a time.

Quit Playing Games with My Heart

A little Backstreet Boys for your Thursday morning? You're welcome. I was actually a N'SYNC fan myself. And we're totally off topic... circling back around. I've been struggling the last few days. My emotions are so tied up with this cycle. Every morning I wake up to take my temperature and I'm saying prayers while making sure the thermometer doesn't move and my lips stay totally sealed because if that temperature reading falls, I will be devastated. And yet, it's not. It's rising.

May 2013 BBT Chart: IUI#4

I know lots of people say that temping after a trigger or while on progesterone is totally unreliable, but I've yet to see that in my own charting. Sure, the progesterone is keeping my temperatures high but that's an accurate reflection of how much progesterone is in my system. My temperatures are higher than they've ever been before... eeeee! And, I do believe I see the ever elusive, not so reliable, "implantation dip".... now, sure, it's on CD6 and not CD7-10 like FertilityFriend says, but it's there.

As far as symptoms go, I've had them ALL... for one brief moment, and then they are gone. I've been nauseous, fatigued, bloated; I've had heartburn, cramps, and frequent urination. I've had it all, but nothing is consistent. It's here today gone tomorrow, or better yet here at 10am and gone by noon. I'm a lovely mixed up ball of emotions, symptoms, hope and dread. Where is all of this coming from?

And then it hit me. I've consciously and subconsciously been dreaming and running various scenarios in my head for the last several weeks. I now understand exactly why I'm so completely invested in this cycle. There is a LOT riding on this cycle: Not surprising, I know. But seriously, as if a BABY isn't enough, as if becoming PARENTS isn't enough... this cycle could also change our lives financially in big, big ways. Let me explain:

Ten months ago, when IUI#3 failed, we decided to do IVF. It wasn't a happy discussion at all... it was one of the ugliest fights we've ever had. I wanted to take out a loan, Sam wanted to save... I accused him of not caring about our unborn children (below the belt? maybe), he called me irrational. Basically we came to an agreement to do IVF... the END. We had no real plan of how to get there. Which is why we're here (at IUI) instead of there (at IVF). But regardless, all of this is to say, that with time we've come to fully embrace and expect IVF. The plan is and has been to live well below our means for as long as it takes to pay off our credit card debt (shame face), pay for IVF, and maybe even a down payment on a house. We're expecting to pay $18,000 for a chance at a baby. BUT, if we somehow get pregnant (and stay pregnant) this cycle, our entire outlook on the next year would change. We could pay off close to $30,000 in student loan debt. Or we could have a HUGE down payment on a home. This could literally change the way our finances look for the next five, ten, fifteen years... it's that big of a deal.

So when I say that there is a lot riding on this cycle, I mean it. It wouldn't be just a baby, which in and of itself is enough reason to totally lose it, but it would also be like winning the lottery. In our heads, that $18,000 is already gone... a positive pregnancy test would be like someone handing us $18,000. Without even realizing it, I've been playing all these scenarios through my head... buying a house next spring (with a nursery of course) with a sizable down payment and a lower interest rate because of less debt... it's a really really beautiful picture. And I'm not ready to see the dream go.

BUT, I keep reminding myself that if this is another failure, nothing has changed. We were planning to do IVF... we will still be planning to do IVF. But I'm just going to be really honest, this one's going to hurt.

Until Saturday my friends...

Wishing Away the Days

What's new? I've been wishing away days, weeks, months, heck, whole seasons of my life I'm pretty ashamed to say. But now that we're here: 8DPO, 7DPIUI, I'm wishing the days away like crazy. I just have to get to Saturday (yea, yea, I know I originally said Monday). If it's negative, I'll cry, throw an excellent pity party, and then retest on Monday, at which point if it's still negative, I will dissolve into a puddle. Offers are being taken now for volunteers to scrape the goo (what's left of me) off the sidewalk. BUT, if it's positive... oh geez... I will not wait for Monday, I will drive myself straight on down to Atlanta (without an appointment) and demand a beta. I will not wait for Monday again... I've been down that road before and terrible, awful, no good, very bad things happen.

I'm pretty sure that I've had every early pregnancy symptom at least once in the last week... but who am I kidding? My guess is that so have you because the symptoms of early pregnancy are the symptoms of LIFE. I've decided that my contribution to the TTC community will be this: once I complete this TTC roller coaster, I'll have so much money I won't know what to do. So, I'm going to create a new test... a test for actual conception: i.e. did sperm meet egg?... Now sure, it'll be crazy sad to get a positive on this new test only to get a negative, which would mean it failed to implant. But at this point, I've just GOT TO KNOW.

I'm also interested in discovering safe alternatives to over-dosing on sleeping pills or requesting a medically induced coma to allow for a solid two weeks of sleep. Because really, I don't need to be awake for this. I'm worthless. My head is somewhere else and my body is functioning an autodrive as it searches EVERY neural/physical response within my body for signs of life (it's too early to feel a kick, right? I should cross that one off my list.). And no, I don't need to keep myself busy... I'm working a full time and a part time job... I'm plenty busy. This does not equate to a distraction. It just equates to time that I must be awake... the goal is to be asleep, wahhhhh!

But a big shout out to a quite a few girls who survived the 2WW and received good news! Go on over and tell Amanda, Infertile265, and Laura congratulations on their positive pee sticks and beta results! Good luck ladies, we are all pulling for you!

And that's all I've got folks... I told you: it's all on autopilot.

DINK

I'm not big on acronyms... at least not the made up kind to shorten a common phrase. I don't text in a conglomeration of letters that look like a foreign language. I blame it on my age. I missed the deadline for texting in gibberish. It probably has more to do with the fact that I pride myself on my ability to speak (and write) English correctly. Sure I know what LOL means; I'm not that bad. Speaking of LOL, I knew a lady who thought it meant Laugh On Line... I didn't explain that "online" is actually one word. But you know, bless her heart, it kind of makes sense; or at least it did before people started saying LOL. Face palm.

I've gotten off topic... Forgive me, it's a sensitive subject. All of this is to say that I'm the one who sees a conglomeration of letters and I don't even pause; if it doesn't mean Department of Labor or University of Georgia, I google it. I don't have the time nor the energy to decipher what SAHM means (Stay At Home Mom... because I googled it). So one day I was reading a blog when I came across DINK... what a terrible acronym. I googled it to discover that it means Double Income No Kids.

Well people, it's official Sam and I are a DINK family. Today marks the first day of double pay checks. I mean I guess it was official when he started his big fancy job two weeks ago, but today there is proof. Two pay checks will hit our bank account today. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I mean obviously two pay checks is lovely, and awesome and desperately needed. It's the rest of the phrase I'm not in love with.

I'm profoundly hit by musings and wonderings about how the other half (way more than half) live. Take for instance my morning: This morning a GIANT freaking tarantula was setting up camp in my kitchen. (no, I don't know that it was a tarantula, it was HUGE, and FURRY and that equals tarantula in my book) Sam was already out the door, so I felt I had no option but to save my precious kitty cat's life by killing the monster. I took off my shoe. It was bigger than my shoe. A mental image of missing the spider and it leaping on to my hand drove me to find Sam's shoe. I live with Big Foot, so I knew that his shoe should offer more protection. I counted to three and whacked it. And it EXPLODED! Oh my FREAKING GOSH a BILLION baby tarantulas started crawling, scurrying, jumping, skittering EVERYWHERE! WORST NIGHTMARE EVER! Now before all of you Tree Huggers and One With Nature-ers tell me that it's what I deserve for killing a harmless spider... cool your jets. I went to an elementary school where we sang about Mother Earth, we celebrated Earth Day like it was Christmas, and our mascot was the Earth Force. I was brainwashed as a child to think littering deserves capital punishment, along with the killing of any animal. We've all got to coexist you know? 99% of that settled into my soul. The 1% that did not stick is the don't kill bugs... wasps, hornets, yellow jackets, cockroaches, and SPIDERS that are IN MY HOUSE deserve to D-I-E. I save worms on the sidewalk, so give me a break, okay?

But in my fairytale, rose colored glasses, I assume that the other half, all ye with a baby on the hip and a toddler in the pack n' play NEVER have bugs. Kids repel bugs, right? Your life is so awesome. Allison, you don't count: you (apparently) live in the Cockroach Capital of the World.

Also, did you read Jennifer Hatmaker's blog? Her summer sounds AMAZING! She packs more into one summer with her kids than I have done in my whole twenty-seven years. She does mystery Thursday's... they camp on trampolines... they go fishing! Summer is so... yawn when you're a double income family with no kids (unless of course you're a teacher... you're a separate breed). I mean sure you might schedule a vacation to the beach, you might have a pool to chill in on the weekends, but there's no constant, everyday is a new day, excitement for Summer. It's work, just like the other three seasons except it's hotter. Lame.

In my fairytale world, Summer is full of the best days of your life. Kids are never bored. You go to Disney World EVERY YEAR. The pool is always crystal clear and sparkling and the perfect temperature. Life is beautiful.

So today, I celebrate that two pay checks hit the bank. Don't get too excited... all of those dollars have a home already and none of them are called Vacation or even Date Night. But still, it's a VERY GOOD thing. But I also mourn that a terrible acronym now describes us... but maybe not forever!

Emotionally Invested

I'm too emotionally invested in this cycle. I'm scared to death of the bad news... of the blow to my self esteem, the removal of all air in my universe, the suffocating black void of despair. For the very first IUI, I was fully in it, I tried to hold back, to recognize that it could take three (haha), but I was emotionally invested, and I honestly believed IUI would work for us. I mean I had THREE follicles, how could it go wrong? And then I got the negative... and I drowned. Somehow, I got washed up on the shore and managed to revive myself. All of a sudden we were gearing up for IUI #2: there was supposed to be a light at the end of the tunnel. I had hope... a little, but not like that first time. By the third IUI, I was detached from the experience. I was actually working at not giving up on the cycle. But I simple didn't believe in the process anymore... our numbers were significantly worse and I believed if it didn't work with better numbers, it wouldn't work then.

After three failed IUI's in three months, I was SO over IUI's! What good are they? Does anybody get pregnant off that junk? What a waste! I was resolved: no more IUI's. I was ready for the big guns. When my doctor recommended another IUI, I wanted to say no, not happening. However, he was super convincing (i.e. I got steamrolled) and I now find myself here: too invested.

 Here are some signs that I'm loosing my grip on reality:

I've never tested out the surge (taking a HPT every day after trigger until it's negative). I haven't taken a pregnancy test in months... I think I've used two since the IUI's?!? I took a test for IUI #2 and #3 because I simply could not receive that news over the phone again... couldn't do it. But SUDDENLY I'm debating buying these, and these, and these, because what if this is it? and I've just got to know! and how long is two weeks again? and why haven't they invented something to test if egg met sperm?

I haven't added to my pinterest board o' babies in months... probably a year or more. But all of a sudden, I'm wondering if any of the adorable bedding I pinned eons ago is even still available. I actually pictured us crib shopping for about 2.4 seconds. What is going on!?!?!

I actually checked my due date on FertilityFriend. March 2, 2014.

I haven't lost my mind... yet. It's not that I'm confident in this cycle or anything. No I wouldn't say that; it's more of this quiet anticipation... it's a what if? It's a realization that there is a chance, a chance that THIS IS IT.

I did not vomit this morning, nor do I have heartburn. I think I've associated both of those incidents with the doxycycline. Thanks to my friend Aubrey's revelation that she too had a hate/hate relationship with the vomit producing drug, I've assigned my misadventures firmly in the "side effect" column rather than the "symptom" column (and no, I don't have a spread sheet... that's something Erika would do). And I'm not looking for symptoms at this point. I hope I don't ever, but I'm reminding myself that 10DPO would be the earliest I should fully fall of the crazy train, and today we're 3DPO... I've got a long way to go.

How did this happen? I was not prepared for all of this hope. Where did it come from? I'm not sure if it's my doctor (aka Dr. Optimism), all of the support from you girls, or the months in between IUI #3 and IUI #4, but the hope is flowing. And it scares me to death. Do I attempt to squash it? Do I let it flourish? Is there a happy medium somewhere where hope and reality both live? Is there a place where another negative doesn't squash me like a bug?

Spotting Symptoms

So I know what most of you are thinking... I can't possibly be checking for pregnancy symptoms yet. And I'm  not, believe me I'm not. This is more about how whenever you have a reason to actually check for symptoms, they are EXTREMELY abundant. This is the first month in a very long time that there is a significant chance (can you call 10% significant?) we might get pregnant, but that is absolutely no reason for eight billion symptoms to come out of nowhere. It's just not.

Take yesterday for example: 1DPIUI (one day post IUI) I woke up to the WORST HEARTBURN EVER! Now granted, I never get heartburn. I've never even taken a tums before, so my tolerance for such terribleness may be kind of low, but to me, it was awful. The sensation was all the way into my chest, terribly uncomfortable, and would not go away. Of course one of the medications I'm on says not to take any type of antacid... lovely. I finally called the doctor to see if this is a side-effect of anything because well, I'd had NOTHING that should cause heartburn. And don't you know, the medicine (doxycycline) that states in plain English on the bottle not to take antacids is the culprit. Nice. My nurse recommended that I take the evening pill earlier, so that I don't lay down after taking it. She also said to ignore the pharmacy's instructions, to go take a tums, and to eat a little something when I take the pill. Oh and milk, she said to drink milk... but that ain't happenin'.

My point is this: heartburn is a well known sign of pregnancy. Maybe not the earliest sign you might get, but still, a woman trying to conceive will wonder...

Then there was this morning: 2DPIUI I didn't feel awesome. Kind of warm, kind of, well off, but not stay home from work sick. I was almost finished getting ready, I took Sterling outside, I started to feel really, really lightheaded. I thought I needed to sit down. I headed inside. All of a sudden in the midst of, "I'm going to pass out" came "I'm going to throw up". And I did. And I NEVER get sick. Never.

Everyone knows that vomiting your guts up is a sign of pregnancy, particularly the type of nausea/vomiting that occurs in the morning... it's called morning sickness for a reason, you know?

So what's a woman to do? I mean seriously, I'm 2DPIUI, maybe 3DPO (three days post ovulation). If, and I do mean if egg met sperm, that beautiful mass of cells is still in my fallopian tubes. They haven't even implanted! There is no rush of hormones flooding through my system to trigger all of these "symptoms". And this my friends, is why the 2WW totally blows!

Play nice universe, play nice. I'd like to survive the two week wait with my sanity intact.

The Other Half of this Equation

There is another half to this baby making equation: my husband Sam. He, like so many men, has quietly and stoically supported me through this infertility journey. I'll be honest, I often forget he's along for the ride.

When we initially started trying, I drug him to baby stores, asked him endless questions about names, and generally drove him bonkers with my what if scenarios (what if we have four girls in a row, do we try for a boy or adopt a boy? OR what if it's twins? OR what if he/she is born on Christmas? when will we celebrate birthdays?). Then when we started treatment, I plagued him with a million possibilities. I read research to him every night. I was relentless in my thirst for information and I assumed he would be the same. When he finally told me he was sick of all of the baby talk, I shut up about it. The conscious decision to watch my words around him and my unconscious decision to stop planning for what we may never have has led us to a place where we honestly don't talk about pregnancy, babies, etc all that much. If he tells me someone is pregnant, I give the ol' shoot myself in the head sign and we move on. There doesn't seem to be a lot of purpose in rehashing what has already been said. I can't find a valid reason to tell him how sad or frustrated or angry or worried I am about our situation… nothing has changed, it's been said before. It's become an understood: I'm sad we can't have a baby. I want a baby. We're going to save money for a baby.

Since I don't talk about it all that much, and choose to internalize or let it out via this little blog, I often forget that he might be dealing with a lot too. I don't know about any of you, but my husband it the epitome of the emotionless reserved man. I've seen him excited like twice ever, and you'd have to be looking for it to see it. I hope to goodness that this long, long, long process towards a child will increase his excitement just a smidge, but honestly, I don't count on it. Sam doesn't share his feelings. He doesn't get mad, or frustrated, or sad… he just is. In fact, if he ever does share that something/someone made him mad, my initial reaction is shock. It's easy to assume that because I don't see the emotion, he doesn't have any, but I know that's not true. We're just different.

Sam shared this article with me the other night. It's a great article about what a husband goes through during infertility. I think all too often, our culture assumes the woman is the primary one affected, because she is the one taking pills, receiving shots, etc. Even when the infertility is 100% male related, even in the most severe cases, it is almost always the woman who will  be the one to take the medications, grow the follicles, undergo IVF, bruise from so many blood draws, and spend countless hours at the doctor. The man shows up for his one assigned appointment, does his bit, and it's over. So everyone assumes he's not as acutely invested in the process. I'm guilty of this myself. I figure if you don't talk about it, cry about it, research what to do about it, etc then it must not be too high on your priority list. But maybe that's not the case. He did find the article. He did pass it along. Maybe my husband, maybe all of the husband's are more aware and affected by what's going on than they appear.

If you read the article, you'll see that they make the argument that many husband's are blindsided by the issue of infertility. Women at least hear about infertility, they know of someone's someone who had to do X to conceive, but guys don't generally talk about that. So when it comes time for a doctor to lay it all out there, it's a shock, it's unbelievable, it's impossible, it's demeaning, it's humiliating, it's JUST TOO MUCH! Even if the infertility problem relies 100% with the woman, the man often feels a sense of failure. He can't impregnate his wife. He's subjected to jokes like, "are you sure you know what you're doing?". It's simply a situation that can knock the legs out  from under them... it's a low blow directly to his manliness.

I'll be honest and say that I don't have a great solution here. I guess every guy is different, and you've got to do what works for your husband. The only solution in my head currently to fix what might be ailing my sweet husband is to get pregnant so he can forget about it all (for a time).

What do you do when your husband is down and out? How do you handle his disappointment?

One Last Shot

Well, the deed is done. I was properly inseminated with 24 million sperm this morning. Assuming I didn't laugh them out from my doctor's attempts to make me smile, they should be making the final swim and finding a friend to dance with.

My feelings on the whole thing are kind of blah... I can't really nail it down. Is it a lack of faith in IUI's? A "we've been here before" kind of thing? Is it my heart's way of attempting to guard against total devastation in two weeks time? Or is it an acceptance that this is all out of my hands... the Big Guy is in control? I'm guessing it's some mixed up conglomeration of all of the above.

I'll be real honest and say that I don't have a lot of hope for this cycle. I was starting to feel just a teeny, tiny bit optimistic, but then I woke up to this:



May BBT Chart

 Ovulation looks to have occurred yesterday. Bummer. Depending on when, we could already be out of the game. I'm not sure if all of the follicles will go at one time, or if there could be several hours between each one. Somehow, I never asked that question. I'm obviously hoping for the latter. Hoping that there is at least one egg still alive.

The doctor gave us a ten percent chance of twins and about a one percent chance of higher order multiples... Sam's eyes bugged out of his head. Statistics is not his strong suit. I was previously given about a ten percent chance of success through IUI, so I'm guessing that my doctor is being a wee bit overly optimistic here, but it's nice to hear his vote of confidence in my body's awesomeness to get the job done.

I will say that I've felt like I was smacked in the ovaries with a crowbar a couple of dozen times ever since I woke up... I'm strangely pleased with this pain as it's giving me an unsupported reason to believe I might have just ovulated.

Anyway, prayers that we have at least one egg still living would be appreciated (or if it's dead that the Lord would call it back to life Lazarus style). And thank you all for your texts, Facebook messages, emails, etc. wishing us luck and sending us love. I felt very loved this morning! I'll keep you all posted!

Roller Coaster

I've often described the infertility process as a roller coaster. It is in every sense of the word. There is so much excitement and anxiety when you start the journey. You're bright-eyed at this whole world of possibilities, yet wide-eyed too at the sheer massiveness of the course set before you. You decide to go for it. You grab a seat, strap in, and sit back. You expect highs and lows, but you never knew how high the top would be, so you never knew how far you could drop. And then there's the sharp, jerking, neck-slinging whips around the corners that shock you senseless and steal your breath away. The journey of infertility as a whole is very much like a long roller coaster. In a similar way, each cycle is a mini roller coaster. One day, things are looking up, the next it's all gone to hell and you wonder why you ever thought it was possible in the first place.

I said last week that I had forgotten what it's like to do a treatment cycle. Man oh man, did I forget. But it didn't take long to remember why I've been known to: yell at friends, rage at my husband, pretend the world is ending, swear I'm switching doctors, state I'm giving up and moving to a deserted island, debate the finer points of selling organs on the black market... This stuff can make you CRAZY!!! 

I finally talked to my doctor on Thursday. I wish everyone could experience him. I mean, I'm married to an optimist, but this guy... It's intense. I can no longer decipher what's real and what's not. But he was just SO EXCITED. I kept trying to interrupt (politely) to say that I was worried about my lining and the fact that we could end up with just one follicle. He assured me that things looked AWESOME and he was really pleased. He said to plan on triggering Saturday night and to do an IUI on Monday. He also offered another ultrasound to confirm those days as our best plan of action. 

We went to the main office (aka crazyville) this morning. I had the most awkward ultrasound experience of my life, met with a third nurse within this one cycle who had no info on me AT ALL, and generally found myself frustrated with the whole experience. By then I learned this:

Right ovary- 22mm

Left ovary- 18mm, 17mm, 15mm, 13mm

Lining- 11mm

I'm pleased. By Monday, I should have three larger than 18mm, maybe even four. It's funny how believing you might only have one removes the fear of having four. 

We had a small panic attack (one of those dips to the right you didn't see coming) after we left when I missed the phone call from the nurse. Her message said to either take the shot tonight for an IUI in the morning or tomorrow night for an IUI on Monday. I've never heard of an IUI less than 12 hours after trigger. I PANICKED. This was NOT what Dr. Slayden had said to do. I checked my paperwork, it was NOT what my paperwork said to do. I listened to the message again. She repeated herself twice. What the heck?!? And of course, the office was closed when I called back. Thankfully, an after hours nurse returned my phone call and said to stick with my doctor's plan. 

So we trigger tonight. IUI on Monday. Wish us luck. I'd like to get off this ride now. 

When it Rains it Pours

Blughhhh! That's how I feel about today. Ultrasound this morning showed this:

Right ovary- 18mm
Left ovary- 14mm, 13mm, 13mm, 11mm
Lining 7.8

I'm guessing those two shots of Follistim helped little Mr. 11mm pop-up out of nowhere, but they failed to do much else. All that fear and worry over four follicles, and well, I do believe I'll end up with one. Again. And a pitiful lining. Yay.

I called and left a message for Dr. Slayden to call me. I want to know if there is any purpose in seeing this through. Yes, a chunk of money has been invested, but not the big chunk. We can still cut our losses. If Dr Slayden still feels like IUI is worth it, we can discuss a different protocol for next month. If he still feels like this cycle is worth it, I guess I'll go for it. But I'm currently kind wah, wah about it. We're been to this rodeo before. I know what one egg, crappy lining, low sperm survivability, and our history yields: nothing.

On top of all of that good news, the dashboard of my car currently looks like this:


Check engine light plus two little lights stating VSC TRAC and TRAC OFF



Nice right? It's just one of those days, you guys. Just one of those days. But don't cry for me. We've been down this road before. We will get through it. It actually changes nothing. We are still exactly where we were pre my doctor's over excitement about the awesome status of my insides and my sure fire chances of conception: we're saving for IVF. We'll get there.

Do, however, go over and give Suzanne some love. She's just experienced a terrible, heartbreaking failure on her first IVF. Go tell her that you care!

The Ledge

Talk me off the ledge girls:

You guys, remember how I said I wasn't loving this protocol? Remember how I said I didn't want to overstimulate? That my husband would kill me if we ended up with multiples? That I didn't want to have to have two mid-cycle visits? Welp, none of the above worked out.

I've got FOUR follicles*. F-O-U-R! Worst nightmare. If it was six, we'd cancel.No question. If it was one, I'd be bummed, we'd probably do another shot, and hope for the best. But four?!?! What the heck am I supposed to do about that?

*And ladies who are in the midst of IVF or approaching IVF, please hear me: I know that some of you would love four follicles. I know that you are giving yourself all sorts of meds nightly praying for a hand full of eggs. I do not take that lightly. I know that I am blessed to have follicles. To have eggs. I fully understand that things could be worse. With that said, as we are looking at an IUI, and not IVF this cycle, we have some pretty big decisions to make.*

The contents of my lady parts currently stand thusly (not a word, I don't care):

Left ovary: 10mm, 11mm, 12mm
Right ovary: 14mm
Lining: 6.4

I've taken Femara 7.5mg CD4-8 and 75iu Follistim CD8. Today is CD9.

This is my fourth IUI. We've had three previous IUI's with 3 eggs, 1-2 eggs (unsure), and 1 egg. All failed to result in even a positive Beta. Am I crazy to worry? Should I be thrilled with four, assume that our fertilization sucks, and that we'll walk out of this with none again, or maybe, just maybe, one baby?

So, for those of you far more versed in these things than I am, any ideas what to expect? Will all four follicles continue to grow? Will my lining plump up (because that's pathetic)? If I take another injection, will one or two follicles surge ahead, will they all grow, will (gasp) more grow?

I'm currently waiting on the phone call from my nurse about next steps. She hinted at the likelihood that I'll do another injection or two and then come back in for another ultrasound. Bahhh! Depending on what my doctor comes up with, I'm guessing we'll be having a little chat tonight to discuss risks vs rewards.

What would you do?

A Brave New World

Tonight marked a first for the Greavu's: injectable medications. I know for a lot of you this is old news; you've been jabbing yourself with needles for years. Heck, I've even read where some of you have shot up in bathroom stalls in the mall or at a restaurant just to keep your schedule. I applaud you all.

Tonight, Sam gave me one injection... one injection with the world's smallest needle. How did I handle it? I cried. I begged him not to. I whined. I offered to inject him. I turned one injection into twenty-five minutes of theatrics (I'm really good add dramatic flair). You guys, I'm not ready for IVF.

Follistim travel kit: So I can take it with me and shoot up in awkward places like public bathrooms. Nice, huh?

I'm totally embarrassed to admit that the needles are one of the biggest deterrents for me from IVF. I mean sure, if we had the money, I'd go for it, but it would not be a peaceful time at our house. It's pathetic. Many women inject THEMSELVES with MULTIPLE medications every day, but I'm scared to death. Just watching the how to video makes me nauseous. Ughhh. Is there like a preparatory course for IVF where you learn not to be a baby?

I go in tomorrow for my mid-cycle scan.  After reading all of your comments, I fell justified in emailing my doctor last Wednesday. Sadly, I never heard back. I called on Friday to speak with my nurse only to find out that she's on vacation until next Monday. So I have no further information. I'm just praying that everything works out. Tonight in dose 5 of Femara plus the 75iu of Follistim. Hopefully, I'll learn more tomorrow.

I'm praying for small things right now. Things like 1- I don't need another injection (owww!), and 2- I don't need another mid-cycle check (money, money, money), and 3- that I have 2-3 beautiful follicles, not 1, not 4. I'll pray for the big things (like a freaking positive pregnancy test) later. One step at a time. I don't think it's honestly even set in yet that we are doing another IUI. I have zero nerves, zero excitement, zero anything really. My only emotion has been annoyance at not having enough information (I like information). I don't know if the lack of emotion is a good thing or if it means I simply have no faith in this process.

Regardless, onward we go. It's a brave new world out there full of vials and needles and sharps containers. I'd really like to stop right here at the threshold of this brave new world and never need to go any further. I'll let you know how it goes!