When Infertility Sneaks Up on You

I kind of hate myself today... You guys, I cried when I read a pregnancy post today, and it was for a fellow infertile. Ughhhh. Crying over pregnancy posts isn't all that unusual, or at least it wasn't. Six months ago, I felt like I needed a box of tissues to log on to Facebook. I guess I'm getting numb to it though because despite the face that 90% of the stories on Facebook are about somebody's kid, I just kind of zoom by. On some level I recognize that Kid A is starting Kindergarten and Baby B is teething, but well, I guess I'm just over it. It is what it is. Getting upset over the fact that other people are living their lives just seems like a giant waste of emotional energy. So imagine my surprise when I cried over the news that a fellow infertile is pregnant. What is wrong with me?!?!

From day one, I have rallied behind other trying to conceivers (not a word, I know). I remember when I first came out of the proverbial TTC closet only to find that there were, in fact, others like me. When the first pregnancy announcement came from one of those girls, I couldn't have been more excited! And as time has gone on, many of these women have come to be my friends, so I am trilled when they get good news! I have always been excited for those ladies who have been in the trenches fighting for a baby. I have never been upset about a pregnancy announcement from one of them. To me, it has always been a victory, a point for our team, if you will. "Take that infertility"… I have literally thought as I read the announcements. Today, I didn't have that reaction. Today, I cried and I hate that about myself. I hate that the accomplishment of another woman, a woman who I know has fought for a child just like me, would bring anything but joy to mind.

As I sat there with tears in my eyes, I tried to figure out where this icky emotion was coming from, and what exactly was it. Jealousy? Yea, I guess that's part of it. But I've been jealous before, and yet still happy for the woman. So what else was going on? Is is fear of getting left behind? Of being the last of all my friends, even the infertile ones to get pregnant? Maybe a tiny bit, but that's not a new fear. Something has changed. After pondering this change for a while, I think I finally settled on the root of the issue. The issue is this: I don't get pregnant, like ever.

Sometimes it feels like the TTC world is divided into two: those who can't conceive, and those who conceive, but experience reoccurring pregnancy loss. I have never compared the two. I have never wished to be in one camp over the other. They both suck. There are terrible things about being in both. I'm not here to make an argument for one over the other. This isn't a "my pain is worse than your pain" kind of deal. But essentially, today I think I realized that I don't get pregnant… ever.

Stay with me here, there is an explanation coming, I promise. I see other infertile women become pregnant, some of them have PCOS, some of them have DOR, some of them have Endometriosis, and others have POF, and yet, they get pregnant. But here I sit, with none of those things, and yet, I don't get pregnant, ever. See where this is going? If women with PCOS, DOR, Endo, and POF get pregnant, then I must have something worse than those things. The longer I sit in this place of negative after negative, failed IUI after failed IUI, I am forced to come to terms with the fact that we are not "sub-fertile" (the phrase my first RE used), no we are definitely infertile, in fact we may just be super infertile. I guess the longer I sit in this place of never seeing two pink lines, I A- forget what they looked like and B-wonder if IVF can even fix it.

You see, I've been assured that IVF "was made for people like me", that I will respond well to the medicine, and that we should expect great results. But the truth of the matter is, we have absolutely no idea what is wrong, or what causes our infertility, so it seems like a distinct possibility that IVF won't fix it. If you don't know the problem, how do you find the solution, you know? In the world of infertility, IVF is the solution to all problems, except, what if it's not? When we originally started on this journey I was assured that I wouldn't need IVF, but if we did, we would be great candidates because A- "you're so young" and B- "you have lots of eggs". But I can't help but wonder, if the key factors here are youth and egg quantity, doesn't it seem like we would have at least been pregnant once in the last two years? An early miscarriage, I could understand, I'm infertile after all, but to literally have never even conceived in the last two years is kind of mind boggling if all it takes is youth and eggs. I'm not saying that I want to miscarry; I'm not saying that at all. But it just seems to me that if I have so much going for me, if IVF is bound to work, then sperm and egg would have at least hooked up once successfully in the last two years, right? I guess I'm slowly preparing myself for IVF, and the fact that no amount of promises from the doctors guarantees us good results. I'm slowly wrapping my head around the idea that yes, we might leave the retrieval with good news, "20 eggs: go me!", but hours later we could hear that nothing fertilized, or days later we could hear that they all stopped growing... essentially, we have no proof that we even can conceive.

"I thought you miscarried," you say. "Obviously, you conceived," you say... you're right. At least, I think you're right. Some days I'm not too sure of anything. If we did conceive (which most days, I think we did) it was two years ago this month (happy anniversary to me). I did actually see "Pregnant" on the test,  but I have never, ever, not once had a positive beta, so my medical records always list an "unconfirmed pregnancy". So I guess today, the feelings that snuck up on me center around the fact that some days it feels like just about everybody gets pregnant, they may not make it across the finish line, but they at least start the race. In the mean time, I'm still trying to register and find the starting line.

For those of you who have experienced loss after loss, I'm not in anyway suggesting that your pain is less, or that your situation is better than mine. Reoccurring pregnancy loss is terrible... I don't want to experience that for one second. But I guess, I wish I knew if our parts could even create life... do we have a fighting chance at this?  But there's no way to know until we get there. So on we march... less than three weeks until the appointments. So forgive me for my episode today. Infertility kind of sneaks up on me sometimes. I am happy for you girls, no, I'm more than happy, I'm thrilled! You girls deserve it! Take that infertility!

The Reason

From reading the comments on my last post, I think it's pretty clear that we all look for meaning in our lives, particularly meaning for the bad stuff. This is probably true of all people (I know I've been guilty my whole life, even before infertility), but I know it's definitely true of most of my infertile friends. Ughhh. It broke my heart to hear how many women have assumed or wondered if infertility was a part of their lives because they weren't "good enough" or deserving of a child. Man, we're really, really hard on ourselves sometimes.

I'll be really honest and say that I don't know why infertility is a part of my story, and yes, I really want to know. I've questioned everything. Looked down every rabbit hole. Examined my life under a magnifying glass, but I've yet to find the thing. The reason. I'm thinking the same can probably be said for you. You've looked at your life and said "this", this thing, this past regret, this sin is the reason I'm infertile. God is punishing me. Only five minutes later you're confronted with someone with whom you have intimate knowledge of a similar "this" and yet, she is pregnant. And so your theory falls apart. You continue on your quest for the reason. If infertility is not your thing, I'll bet there's something in your life currently, or something in your past that youve asked why, why you had to walk this road, why this is a part of your story. 

You guys, I don't have the answers. I don't know enough theology to even begin to tackle this one. This is one of those things that I've just decided to carry with me. There is a whole slew of questions that I want answers to, but I've slowly come to recognize that my faith isn't about having all the answers, so I'll just strap my questions, my issues with the Bible, my "but what about the dinosaurs?" on my back and carry them with me. And I really, really hope there's a Q&A session with the Big Man once I get to heaven.

But there is one thing that I really, really believe, and it is this: whether infertility is a part of your story because of genetics, because of lifestyle choices, because of sin, because of age, or even if there is no explainable reason at all, the Lord can use it for His glory. Believe me, in my darkest moments, heck in my sort of dim moments, I try to explain to God that there are other ways for Him to be glorified... this isn't the way I would choose to bring Him glory. But regardless, I find comfort knowing that He will bring purpose to this part of our story, that he will make something good of circumstances that feel so bad.

When I think about Biblical characters who were worse off then me (so... like most of them?) I always think of Job.... I don't want to be Job. But I was recently reminded of the story of the blind man. In John chapter 9, John tells us that Jesus and his disciples came across a man who had been blind since birth. He writes, "His disciples asked him, 'Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?'". You see, His disciples were just as confused as we are. They saw a man with unfortunate circumstances and they immediately decided one of two things: either the man sinned, and thus deserved this punishment, or his parents sinned, and well, it was a different time, but I guess they thought that was understandable too. Jesus' responds saying, "this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him". And then He healed him. Boom! Can you imagine? I don't know if I'm going to have a boom moment of my own... I'm ready and willing... but healing isn't the only way that the Lord can use my story. But I think the take away here for us, is less about the healing (thought that was darn cool) and more about his response to the question why... it's not about the cause, it's about the purpose.

One of my favorite blog friends shared a newsletter that she receives with me over the weekend. It spoke far more eloquently on this topic than I ever could. I think this pretty much sums it all up though: "'Why' is not always a bad question--there are plenty of times when faithful people in the Bible faced suffering and asked 'Why?' But too often, such questions miss the point. We are looking for the cause of our pain, but instead, Jesus points to the purpose." Don't get me wrong, I'm still looking for the cause, I hate the diagnosis of unexplained infertility more than you know. Medically, we have yet to find a reason that in 25 cycles, we have gotten pregnant once, for half a second... and all too often it feels like there is no reason other than the Lord said "no". But I try to remember that there is purpose for all of that, one that I may never see, but I just have to trust that He is at work. And while He is at work, I have to trust that His plan is ultimately for my good.

There are far more days than I care to admit in which I would choose Amanda's plan over God's plan. Amanda's plan doesn't include infertility. It includes lots, and lots of babies. In Amanda's plan, I'm wrapping up with baby number 3, and we are confident that we can squeeze in two more before I'm 30. Yea, there are lots of babies in Amanda's plan. And His plan is so long, seems so wasteful, is filled with so much pain... it's really hard to say "I choose Your plan". On days when I'm filled with anxiety over the waste, over the years spent stalled out here in the middle, over the financial burden on our family, I like to go back and read Erika's post (so good you guys). She says, "That's the heart of our God. He longs to restore to us. To redeem. To repay. He doesn't always stop the plague of locusts. He could. I don't know why He doesn't. But sometimes the locusts still come, and their destruction is vast. And God says I will redeem that. The locusts will not have the final word. Those years will not be forgotten. Our God is so, so good-- and he longs to restore whatever has been stolen from you". See what I mean? So good.

I think if our God could say one thing to us today, as we sit her looking for the reason, as we examine our choices, compare ourselves to others, or question our worthiness, I think He would say this: "Trust Me. I am at work. There is a purpose for your pain. And I see your pain, I do not ignore the pain of my children. I am at work, and I will redeem even this". Hang in there you guys. I don't know why you're here, why you're stuck in this place, but my infertile friends, I guarantee you, it has absolutely nothing to do with being "good enough" or being worthy of a child. I don't know what the reason is, but I promise you, it's not that. There is a greater purpose for your story.

The Promise

I read this blog post the other day, and while it's on an entirely different subject, one that I can't really relate to any longer, I think it speaks to a greater issue. The author was discussing just a small piece of a larger, complex problem. If you've never read her stuff, go exploring. She doesn't blog super regularly, but when she does, it's raw, it's emotional, it's inspiring, and it's always really clear that she loves Jesus. In this particular post, she writes about a common Christian pastime: promising to wait. She writes about being sixteen and signing her True Love Waits promise card and buying herself a promise ring. In case you aren't versed in this, essentially a promise ring (in this instance) is a sign of a promise to wait to have sex until you're married. Essentially a great principle, a wonderful promise, a beautiful gift to your spouse. But it often becomes something more.

The something more, she explains is the problem. The something more is the belief that waiting patiently, in doing as we're asked, somehow guarantees us our dreams. For her, it's a husband. She's waited patiently, kept her promise, and yet, she's still not married. She goes on to explain that she took off her promise ring at 25, not as an excuse to sleep around, but because she's not waiting any longer... what's she waiting on anyway? Essentially, her argument is that this idea that she and far too many girls were sold, leaves them waiting for a happy ever after instead of falling in love with the One who is already waiting on them. My favorite line is this: "A lot of girls were sold on a deal and not on a Savior".

Uh, yea. Whether married or not, I think many of us could say this very same thing. At some point, we bought into a deal. I know I'm guilty of this, guilty at different times in my life of believing that all I had to do was wait patiently for Jesus to swoop in and deliver on His promise. But what exactly is His promise?

There's one particular verse in the Bible that I've come to hate... err, no not hate, hate the way we humans use it and abuse it. The promise is beautiful, our bending of the words leads to a lot of heartache. Psalm 37:4 says, "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." Sounds promising, right? All we need to do is delight ourselves in Jesus and voila, insta husband, baby, house, money, etc... right? But it doesn't take too long of living in this broken world to see that believers don't have perfect lives. While I would love for my belief in Jesus to instantly give me an easy life and the promise that all my dreams will come true, it just doesn't work like that. But all too often other Christians, believers, Bible studies, churches, etc. sell us on a deal. A deal with our heavenly Father that says living a certain way, or promising adoration, or putting Him first will bring us fulfillment of our hopes and dreams.

Unfortunately, if we buy into the deal, we become more and more disillusioned with this God as life goes on. We've kept our part of the deal, but how long are we expected to wait? The blogger states it like this, "But many of them [the ladies in waiting]– if they’re honest – will tell you that time has passed, and it’s wrecking their view of God. If this is who God’s supposed to be, then He’s tragically late." All too often those left waiting are frustrated with this Jesus, and so they give up. They decide He's not coming through, they leave the church, they sacrifice morals, they move on. They decide, "if He doesn’t answer these prayers after they’ve held up their end of the bargain, why would He answer any others?"


I'm not waiting on a husband, but I bet you can see how I transpose this same message over my life... babies, yep, you guessed it. I'm waiting on my dream, waiting on my future family. And oh, there is nothing I hate more than when well intentioned believers tell me to trust in the Lord, because He will deliver what He promises. You know what, Jesus has never, ever, not once, promised me a baby. He hasn't promised me a long, happy life with Sam. He hasn't promised me earthly riches, or health, or any of it. Tomorrow is not promised to me. That verse, that verse that gets twisted and broken and changed, it says to "delight yourself in the Lord"... here's the thing, if I was truly, one hundred percent delighted in the Lord, wouldn't He be enough? Would I need a husband, a home, a baby? No, I'd just need Jesus. I'd trust him to provide what He will, to care for me until the end of my days, and to welcome me home when my time has come. Somewhere along the line, I bought into the belief that I deserve a baby, I mean everyone else has one. But really, I deserve death; it is by His grace that I have life at all. And yes, I still get stuck here, still get stuck with the "but everyone deserves death, and yet they still get a baby". Uh, huh, yep, I'm all too often that shallow. The truth is that she did get a baby (or four). And I got a husband. And someone else desperately wants one of those.

We as a people, as believers, as followers of Jesus are sharing the wrong message. We sell Jesus like he's a solution for life's problems and not life itself. But if we change our message, "things could be drastically different for a lot of girls [or guys] wondering why the God they think they learned to follow doesn’t compute. It doesn’t necessarily stop the desire for a husband [or a baby] or end all feelings of loneliness, but it does show a God who provides, loves and gives infinite purpose even to our singleness [or childlessness] rather than a God who categorically denies some who pray for husbands [or children] while seemingly giving freely to others". Aw-haa moment. Isn't that basically what drives us to question His goodness? Isn't it the uneven distribution of gifts that makes us wonder who is to blame? Is it us or is it Jesus? Are we less worthy than our friend? Or is He unfair?

We're asking the wrong questions because we bought into the wrong message. He hasn't broken his promise, He never promised us babies, or husbands, or riches, or even happiness; He promised us an abundant life and eternity with Him.

Muddled Mess

Yea, yea, I know. I come, leave you with insight, wit, drama, sadness and then disappear for a week. I am a self-professed terrible blogger. I've got about a zillion posts less than half completed floating around in my head, but none of them sound interesting/are worth typing/have an ending. You're already excited about this one, aren't you?

Essentially, I think my bad blogging habits of late are simply an extension of a larger problem: my brain is a muddled mess. And not the kind due to a lovely smooshing of mint and stuff, just a jumbled, disorganized, vapid wasteland where thoughts go to die. If you could Magic School Bus yourself inside my head right now, you'd find one long stream-of-consciousness style mess of stuff. And I don't even like stream-of-consciousness... Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury was my own personal kind of hell sent just to destroy my straight A college English record. But lately my thoughts look like this:

I need a vacation...I like cake...I wonder if mom will make me a cake this weekend...I should learn to bake...umm, no cake isn't low carb dummy...I love carbs...IVF is going to suck...we should just take out a loan...I want a baby...I love diet coke...diet coke is deadly...who cares...I need coffee...you're not supposed to drink coffee...who cares...I should brush Everest...I need a vacation...I should go back to school...Work is overrated...I want a baby...I'm tired...infertility sucks...I want to see Despicable Me...I can't wait for fall...eww, fall means birthdays...28 = too old...birthdays aren't fun anymore...birthdays are even less fun without presents...I just want a new pillow... pillows aren't in the budget...budgets make my head hurt...I need a vacation...vacations aren't in the budget either...I want a baby

You see what I mean? And I'm being honest, that was the tame, sort of coherent version where there are some logical leaps. Most of the time it's like this:

Fall:sunburn:cake:baby:vacation:sleep:read a book:remember to ___:I love Sam:clean the tub:

And that's in the space of like sixty seconds. So you'll forgive me (and silently rejoice) that I haven't been filling the blog and vast internet with my nonsense. If you noticed there are two reoccurring thoughts in that muddled mess: I want a baby and I want a vacation. Essentially, I'm tired of infertility: tired of writing about it, tired of thinking about it, tired of worrying about it, tired of spending money on it, and tired of all the sadness in my life because of it. But I still want a baby. Nice, huh? And essentially, although I've only been working full time for just over three months, I feel the tension and could really use a vacation. I'd love to just get away, chill on the beach, drink beverages that I shouldn't, and not care in the least whether they will affect my ability to have a baby. I feel the need to get away and spend some time with my husband, just the two of us. I don't want to think about school, work, babies, infertility, IVF, loans, debt, money, none of it. My fairytale world sounds pretty nice, right? I bet we could all use one of those.

Cue reality check: I just started working, so I don't have enough leave saved up for a vacation. And even if I did, I'm going to need all the paid time off I can get when the time comes for IVF. And the reality of the situation is that we are in debt and a baby is going to cost us money, so we have no business taking a vacation. So instead, I'll just sit here with my jumbled thoughts and hope that some direction and clarity comes soon.

He Gives and Takes Away

Obviously, there was no need for my last post… all I really had to do was ask Suzanne. It's pretty apparent to me that we all need Suzanne to come to our consultations… talk about advocating for ourselves: she nailed it. Pretty impressive stuff. If you're thinking about IVF and missed the post, go check out all of the helpful responses I received!

Totally switching gears now… My heart is absolutely broken. I am so confused. So lost. So frustrated. So sad. So overwhelmed. So in awe. But let me back up. The last several weeks have been pretty awesome for my little corner of the blog world… babies everywhere! It was hard not to get caught up in the complete wonder of it all. Beautiful, glorious, loved, fought for babies came home with several mommas and it is amazing! It is absolutely awe inspiring to see these new mommas and daddies lay eyes on their child for the first time. Simply amazing.

But there's another side to this story, and it's a story that is all too familiar in the infertility and infant loss communities. My heart is absolutely broken for several friends right now. Words simply cannot express the depth of my sorrow. Many of these women have become close friends; I pray for them, I laugh with them, cry with them, we chat during the work days through email. My pain is only a fraction of their pain, and today I feel broken, defeated, frustrated, abandoned, and so on… I can't imagine what they feel.

I was pregnant for one brief nanosecond of time. I barely had time to wrap my head around the idea before the word miscarriage popped into our vocabulary. So in some ways, I know this pain. In other ways, their pain takes mine to a whole new level. Take Risa for instance. She just completed her first IVF. From the beginning, IVF wasn't what she had hoped for. Words like "poor responder" were tossed around, which I can only imagine was surprising and disheartening to say the least. But she completed the IVF cycle with hope… one embryo survived and was transferred back. No one ever expects for IVF to yield only one embryo, but it did, and she and her husband were so hopeful. And it worked… positive pregnancy tests showed that her little embryo had implanted. Sadly, her sweet Adam left her and her husband behind. They are now mourning what could have been,  picking up the pieces of their broken hearts, and processing where they want to go from here. My heart hurts so much for them. To lose a child, even when you've only known about it for a few days in an intense pain... but for most people, IVF is all about the back up plan, the embryos on ice. I'm sure that neither of them ever expected to go through IVF and have nothing left over... it's another loss in and of itself, the loss of a second chance, the loss of potential. It's all just so hard.

Then there is CP. This sweet lady seemed like she was on her way to her miracle take home baby. She did IVF in February only to discover that it worked on their first attempt! She and her husband were over the moon at the prospect of bringing home a baby. They found out early due to testing that they were having a son, but with that news also came some worrying findings. With time they learned that their precious son had a life threatening condition called CDH, but they never lost hope. They sought out awesome doctors, and prayed over their son. Even when her water broke unexpectedly at 24 weeks, she never gave up hoping that her son would come home with her. I learned on Sunday that Jackson Dean died last Wednesday, two hours after his birth. Tears streamed down my face as I read her honest, uplifting post of thanks for her precious son. To lose a child at any stage is heart breaking... I can vouch for that, I lost mine about as early as possible, but to lose a child you gave birth to, a child you held, a child you could do nothing to save... the pain is simply unfathomable.

My  heart was so broken as I read her post on Sunday, I literally wanted to crawl under the covers. But I didn't. I went to my church's community worship event and cried and prayed and told God that I didn't understand His ways. I agreed that His ways are not mine because I would never let that happen. Big picture be darned, she deserved her baby (and this is why I'm not God, obviously). I got home to find another post from one of my favorite women I've met in this terrible journey. Suzanne's story is nothing like mine in terms of infertility diagnosis, but there has just been something about her since I found her blog that has connected me to her story and called to my heart. Tears are literally falling as I type... this is just so hard. I got home last night to find that Suzanne's miracle story had also ended. Suzanne's story is frustrating to say the least... she was learning to let the dream of a biological child end. She was in the midst of happily embracing donor eggs. She was excited about her future again. And then out of nowhere, on the heels of a failed IVF cycle, she became pregnant, with her OWN egg, with no treatment... it was shocking, it was amazing, it was a miracle. Surely a miracle like this, a light where there is so much darkness, life where there has been only death will make it, I told myself. I prayed with her, waited anxiously with her for each new beta, each step led me closer to believing I was witnessing a legitimate, God breathed life, kind of miracle. To hear that it's over is crushing. My heart hurts so badly for her. I know that she will go on to find her donor, to cycle at CCRM, and I'm praying with everything I've got that she brings her baby home... yes, there can still be a happy ending to this story, but right now, in the midst of the brokenness, in the very center of all of this heartache, I just want to know why.

Today I feel so very, very crushed, so low, so confused, and ultimately so sad. My friends don't deserve this. And the most frustrating thing is that I have no answers for them... they don't need trite responses, they need love, and hope, and understanding. Ladies, my heart breaks for all of you... for all of you who have, who are, or who will experience the loss of a child. Nothing prepares you for that kind of pain. I'm so sorry that this is a part of your story.

Father God, I love you, but if I'm being really honest, I'm not sure I like you today. You give and take away, but I don't understand why. Your ways are not my ways, and I fully trust that there is a plan, that that there is a reason, but the not knowing, the not understanding... that is so hard. Father, even though there's pain in the offering, blessed be Your name.

So Many Questions

I'll offer a quick disclaimer that this isn't going to be a witty, life changing, heck, probably even interesting post. I'm shamelessly using my blog space to reach out to my fellow infertile friends.

Essentially, I'm trying to come up with a list of questions to ask at each of our upcoming cousultations. I want these questions to be helpful in the decision making process. I want to leave these appointments with clarity. I want to feel good about thi decision. Sadly, a big part of the decision may be about finances, but I still want to feel good about the decision, you know? Feel confident in the care I'll receive. Feel like we're giving ourselves a fighting chance. I've been trying to make a list of questions, and this is what I've come up with:

1. Can you help me get pregnant?

It's not actually that bad. But it's close. Typically I'm all about the questions. I've got pages. Listed in order from most impartant to least. It's color coded. I'm not really sure why when the BIGGEST DEAL EVER is looming in front of me, I can't come up with questions, but I can't. So I figure those of you who have walked this walk might have some insight into this. Seriosuly if you can think of ANYTHING that I should ask before committing to a clinic and doctor for IVF, let me know. If there is something you wish you'd asked, wish you'd known beforehand, let me know. Should I ask about protocol? Hidden fees? Timeline? I'm so confused. If you have a great idea for making this decison beside eeny, meeny, miny, mo, you can share that too. If you haven't been through IVF, what would you want to know before signing on the dotted line and handing over the check?

Give me your wisdom, your insight, your stories.

Patiently Waiting

So I'm sorry for abandoning you all after writing the last post to worry that I might be sad, depressed, etc. I'm not. I promise, I'll let you know if I'm in bad place... in general you can just assume I'm being my regular, dramatic self. I'm actually doing pretty good in terms of spirit. I mean, we've even had a couple of days of sunshine in Georgia, so I decided to wait on purchasing that row boat. I guess my title choice was a little strong last post(?!?!)... I mean yes, I am failing at a lot of things, but my attitude it more "whatev" than "I suck". I'm in a "go with the flow" kind of place. Sterling ended up at the vet this past weekend, blew our budget out of the water, and I just paid it... life happens.

We're kind of in a stalling pattern these days. We've got some tentative plans, but nothing has really been decided. Typically I'd be all "got to go faster, can't wait one more second, if I fake a massive bleed, can I see the doctor today?", but instead I'm pretty chill. If I had $10,000 sitting in my bank account, I'm sure I'd be FREAKING OUT about the delay, but as I currently don't have even half of that, I figure a month or two delay won't kill us. We've got two appointments currently set up... we're taking some PTO to knock these guys out... crazy vacation, woo, woo! We're seeing Dr. Slayden (current RE at ExpensoIVF aka RBA) and Dr. Massey. If you've been a looonnnggg time reader, you may remember that we saw Dr. Massey over six months ago. This is where the Saga of the Phantom Fibroid got started... but it's also where I can get IVF for $6,975 including ICSI. I figure it's worth another appointment to see how we feel about the clinic, process, etc.

I'm not really looking forward to either of these appointments to be honest. I think they are both going to be tough. I love Dr. Slayden, but I'm going to have to be really honest with him... no sunshine and roses, I need reasons for the falling success rates and reasons for the jacked up prices if I'm going to continue in his care. The other appointment doesn't sound too fun either. I figure it'll go something like this, "So Doc, last time you said there was a large fibroid on my uterus, well I'm here to tell you that there's not. I've got the photos of my insides to prove it." Essentially, I want to know what corners they are cutting to offer IVF at that cost, and what kind of doctor/patient/nurse interraction I can expect. Who knows, it may be that other clinics are simply making bank... sending their kids to Princeton and driving a Porsche to work each day.

Beyond these two polar opposites, we're investigating other clinics still. I'm really interested in one that was recommended to me in Florida called FIRM. It seems like it might be the best of both worlds... a large clinic that has state of the art facilities and all the sciencey stuff needed, but they offer IVF at a much more reasonable better price. The glitch is that the have no data with SART... I'm not sure how big of a deal that is. Does this make them super sketchy?

Anyway, I think the plan is to speak to both of the Atlanta clinics (August 26). From there, based on what we learn, we will decide whether we want to pursue additional consults at other clinics like ACRM, FIRM, or PREG. While I'd love to go have a consultation at every possible candidate, at $100-250 a pop, the consults add up and simply set us further back financially. Hopefully once we have made the decision of where to cycle, we will be able to decide on a payment option. I currently feel like this: cheap(er) clinic- save until we can pay in full in cash, ridiculously overpriced clinic- continue to save until D-day, take out a  small freaking enormous loan to cover the rest. I'm giving myself until the end of the year to get this crap figured out. By then, I want to have a plan in place, a month picked out, etc. because it's time... I'm in the most patient place I've ever been in this journey, but it's not going to last forever!