Start Your Engines

We're on a one way track headed for crazy town... Today is CD3. Obviously, I am super pleased that I started a new cycle. I was so concerned about starting an IUI cycle with 30 day old endometrial lining. If the IUI had failed, I'd have blamed it on that and always wondered "what if?". I'm glad that obstacle has simply been removed from the table. It should be smooth sailing right?

Today was my baseline scan. This is the first time I've ever actually cycled at RBA, and obviously there are a lot of differences to be expected between clinics. However, I guess in the seven months since my last IUI cycle, I somehow forgot this little fact: cycling, like real, legitimate, trying to get pregnant via doctors and needles is CRAZY STRESSFUL!

Notable differences between my current and previous clinic:

I still like my clinic and my doctor, but I don't love the whole idea of not seeing the doctor. Today was a perfect example of why I'd rather meet the doctor for each appointment. I spoke with my doctor at my post op about next steps. You may remember I was thinking "save for IVF" and he was full of "get it while the gettin's good" kind of stuff... which brought us to today. But at that appointment several weeks ago he laid out, in detail the plan which was referred to as "the chaser". We were supposed to do Femara on CD3-7, some form of an injectable on CD8, and then a mid-cycle check on CD11/12.

Today's instructions, relayed to me from a nurse, who got the instructions from another nurse, who supposedly talked to the doctor, looked NOTHING like that. Instead, we are supposed to take Femara on CD4-8, and then Follistim on CD9 and CD10. Cue my absolute freak out! Add in the fact that I'm supposed to come in for a mid-cycle on CD10 to "see if we should continue the Follistim injections". These instructions couldn't be more different from what my doctor and I discussed.

When I spoke with her, I tried to explain the variances. I mean, I specifically asked my doctor about doing an ultrasound around CD9 BEFORE the injectables and he said that there was no point, we won't know enough, it's all or nothing, either take the shot or don't. He also repeatedly labeled the 75 units of FSH as a "chaser" meaning just ONE shot to follow the Femara. The nurse acted like I could potentially take five or six DOSES of the injectables... people, the LOWEST DOSE of clomid yielded THREE FOLLICLES. She also said that I should be prepared to be sent home from the first mid-cycle check with instructions to come back for a second mid-cycle... and that my friends, is how an IUI cycle suddenly costs $2000!!!

I finally caved, I had to get to work. But now, I'm really second guessing myself. This protocol is SO different from what my doctor and I discussed! Did he change his mind? Has there been a clerical error? Do I have someone else's protocol?

What would you do?

Despite my obvious stress, I'm doing myself a big favor by not stressing about the stress. You heard me. I'm stressed. It's stressful. Tough. End of story. I'm giving myself a pass on this one. Erika shared a great article on Facebook the other day and this was one of my many take aways: "It's okay to be stressed. Don't stress about your stress. Trying hard not to be stressed is silly." Amen brother, amen.

However, if you have insight into my situation, feel free to share. I've accepted the stress… I'm not embracing it.

Answer Envy

Thanks for the outpouring of love everyone! Monday night was exceptionally ugly I'll admit, but I've talked myself down off the ledge. It's amazing what rest and a new day can do for you. One sweet friend sent me something that I felt like probably resonates with EVERYONE, so I wanted to share. 

The author, Karen Ehman, sounds like she's lived my life… but I think the truth is, she probably sounds a lot like you too. Whether you've wanted a baby or not, there's been something you wanted, something you prayed for… and then the next day your friend got the something. Answer envy.

I've been here before. It's hard to remember, but once upon a time, I was green, I'm talking ELPHABA GREEN with envy over all the girls getting engaged and married. There for a while, it seemed like EVERY. DAY. Facebook was plastered with sparkly diamonds, gorgeous wedding dresses, and breathtaking honeymoon destinations. And I wanted to kill him! I hear that some people wait longer, but if you had asked me back then, I had waited longer than ANYBODY to get engaged! People younger than I were getting hitched after six months of dating and nine month engagements and "oh my gosh!" I was PISSED! I'd paid my dues, it was MY TURN!!!

Like I said, I've been here before. The truth is, if infertility hadn't reared it's ugly head, if I had my family of three or four, I'd just have something else to be envious of. I'd be praying for a house. And I'd be crazy jealous of all of my friends out purchasing their first homes. I'd want to kick my feet and tell God what's up as I see them swoop in and grab dream homes for a fraction of the cost. I'd panic and worry over the changing market and whine to my husband that we will lose our chance.

The truth is, there's always going to be a prayer on your lips at the same time someone else gets your answer. What do we do in those moments? Trust God. My tendency is to trust that God has a plan, but it might not be as fabulous as mine, right? So I try to convince him that mine is better. But that's not what the scriptures teach… My time is not to be spent rationalizing, debating, or fretting. It's spent waiting… (wait for it)… patiently.

But for you, Oh Lord, do I wait; it is you, Oh Lord my God, who will answer.

Psalm 38:15

But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

Romans 8:25

I hope that wherever you may be on this journey called life, that whatever it is that you're praying to God for, I pray that you would recognize a few things. One, you are not alone. It may seem like you're alone, like everyone except you is getting answers, but you're not alone. Second, when life meets reality, choose hope. Do not despair. And lastly, when you get your answer, even if it's no, not now, or wait, recognize that there's a bigger plan and give thanks (way easier said than done, I know).

With that said, I also think it's important to get yourself a "community", if you will, of people in the same situation, looking for, hoping for, waiting for a similar answer. I can vouch for the fact that the infertility community, even though it exists almost exclusively online for me, has been a true lifesaver. Years ago, I felt so alone. But when I reached out, I found other people who felt a lot like me, who hoped for the same things, who were waiting on the same answer. This has been a game changer for me. I can't imagine where I'd be without my friends.

Here's the other thing about community… there's a whole team of people who will be crazy excited for you when it's finally YOUR TURN. So with that in mind, I'd like to take a second to celebrate the women in my community who have beaten or are beating infertility. Those still in the trenches: if tonight is not your night, if today has been too much, if you can't handle one more answer to someone else's prayer, stop reading now. But I encourage you to come back on one of your better days, it may give you some hope to see so many triumph… your day is coming.

Jennie- 19 weeks
Lisa- brought her son home from Russia in November
Bree- pregnant with triplet boys, 28 weeks
Allison- 16 weeks
Belle- 34 weeks
Slynn- 14 weeks
Genny- 17 weeks
Amanda- pregnant with twin girls, 30 weeks
Kara- 23 weeks
Sarah- 9 weeks
Ready for my Turn- 10 weeks
Lisa- pregnant with twins, boy and girl, 30 weeks
Jen- 35 weeks
Amanda- brought home twins, boy and girl in April
Gator Girl- 17 weeks

And an extra special one to me, my cousin Lindsey, who has struggled for years with secondary infertility, is 7.5 weeks pregnant after her first IUI.

And that's just the friends I've come to know in the last year or so… answers are coming every day. I hope we can celebrate with these ladies and love on them! I know there are days when it feels like your community is leaving you behind… you're scared you'll be left behind, alone, again. But let us not forget, there is a story behind every answer. And so we wait.

Loss of Hope

It's not a good night. Ughhh! I hate infertility! (Imagine a string of expletives to go along with that.) Today, Facebook informed me that a doctor from my clinic did an interview. I always listen to these despite the fact that they are never informative to me, basically an Infertility 101, if you will. So in this clip, some blogger woman named Mara explains how infertility is a blessing… and I turned it off. I'm so not in a place to listen to that right now. Today, infertility is the farthest thing from a blessing that I can imagine. Infertility has destroyed so many of my dreams. Infertility has made moderately difficult decisions into life-altering, "we can't mess up" kinds of decisions. It's taken small, insignificant details and turned them into giant issues. I HATE INFERTILITY!

I hate that I'm even writing about it… again. I'm sure my real life friends are so over this. I tell myself, "self, you need to write three blogs without mentioning pregnancy, or infertility, or babies because the people are sick of your story… move on already". But you guys, infertility has literally affected every single aspect of my life. I'm not sure I remember who I was before this all started. Everything relates back to trying to have a baby. Grocery shopping. Simple, right? I mean it's not rocket science. But all of a sudden everything that hits the cart gets scrutinized for two things: 1- should I be eating/drinking that? and 2- if I didn't buy X, we'd be $2.43 closer to IVF. Ughhhh! I just want a Snickers sometimes, you know? Jeez!

Tonight, I hate that I've literally lost hope. Infertility has stolen my ability to hope for the future. My friend Em was struggling with this the other day as well (see? I'm not the only one). Sign me up for a prescription of hope any day! I'm about to enter into an IUI cycle. I have zero hope in it. This time last year, I thought IUI's were going to solve my problems, be a dream come true, be a one way ticket to babyland. Well they weren't. Does that mean they won't be/can't be? No, but I can't manage to eek out even a little hope in this process. I resolved myself several months ago that IVF was our last hope in making a child… not in being parents, but in making a child. Once upon a time, in my naivety, I believed that IVF is a sure thing. I guess I knew that it could fail, but only once, right? Joining the community of fellow infertiles has shown me a different story. IVF is great. It's the Assisted Reproductive Technology (ART) option with the greatest chances of success, but it's still not a guarantee, not by a long shot. So I've resolved myself to the cold hard fact that we might go all the way to IVF and still not come home with a baby. We can talk about frozen embryo transfers (FET's) all we want, but there is absolutely no guarantee that we will have any embryos to transfer. It is all crazy uncertain until you actually go through the process. So knowing the long odds of IVF bringing us a baby in one shot, I just can't get back on board with an IUI.

I'm a hot mess tonight. It's not pretty. My husband and I are trying to pick between several less than desirable insurance plans. I say less than desirable because they all cost more than my previous employer's plan, and because, well, I still live in Georgia, the land of "no infertility coverage". My husband views everything through the "what if we get pregnant lens?". He's looking at maternity plans. I can't go there. I'm not sure if this is a revelation I'm experiencing tonight, or if I am simply one hot, hormonal mess (I did pray for my period). But geez, I shouldn't cry over maternity plans. It's ridiculous. Infertility coverage (hahaha, no there's no such thing, that's the Land of Oz), make that coverage for minuscule things like blood work and consultations during non-treatment cycles, has made the decision making process absolutely insane. No one, anywhere, not at my human resources department, not my doctor's office, and not my insurance company to-be can answer a single solitary question regarding will "X" (oh say, an AMH test) be covered under policy A, B, or C. We're shooting blindly here.

I also learned that there is mathematically no way that we will be able to pay for IVF by my birthday. Did I mention I'm a mess tonight? I've learned from lots of infertiles, particularly those going through Donor Egg procedures that donor companies and RE's advise couples to look for young, healthy donors. What's young? Apparently, it's 27. My current age. The age I'll cease to be in October. I know, I just said that I could go all the way through IVF and have zero healthy embryo's to freeze. But what if? What if I have 20 freezable embryos? What if IVF actually works? What if we complete our family and have 2, 5, 10 embryos left over? I can't terminate them. And I can't leave them frozen in time forever. But what if I try to donate them and no one wants them? Ughhhh!

It will seriously be a budgeting miracle if we succeed in paying for IVF by the end of this year. There are literally no more corners to cut, no more sacrifices to make… if we somehow manage to stick to this crazy budget, IVF will be when it will be, and that's as soon as I can hope for, and that's really no hope at all.

May things look brighter tomorrow, Lord.

Deep Clean

My doctor's appointment with my RE is ten days away or less. Assuming that I either A- start a new cycle, or B- look good enough to start meds, we could potentially be starting our fourth IUI cycle in less than two weeks. My feelings on that are not the subject for this post (another day), but rather I'd like to discuss the current health of my body.

As I sit here sipping my full flavor, full fat, caffeinated Caramel Macchiato, I'm further convicted that my body is probably not in prime baby making condition. Sure, I realize that some 87% of women make babies just fine without ever cutting calories, or caffeine, or heck, even alcohol. Alas, that is not my lot in life. For over a year, I've been trying to live the straight and narrow. The hardest thing of course has been the break in my diet coke love affair. 

However, this past month, I've been TERRIBLE! Oh my gosh! My nurse said that we should not try to get pregnant this month due to the surgery, and oh my goodness, I took that to heart! I've indulged myself in lots of diet coke! I've even had a couple of Dr. Peppers. I've had more coffee in the last four weeks than in the previous year! Add in the awful eating habits that come with multiple graduation parties PLUS the continuous take-out due to an empty fridge from the move, and well, I'm pretty sure I could eat celery alone for a month and still not have made up for it all (which I don't eat celery, unless of course it's in Thanksgiving stuffing).

So here's the thing, for some unexplainable reason, I tend to think of the start of each cycle as a clean start. If I messed up more than I wanted in the previous cycle, I feel like I've got a clean slate when the new cycle starts. Is this medically accurate? Does menstruation actually cleanse a woman of more than old uterine lining? Probably not, but that's how I feel. So the thought of NOT starting a new cycle, of marching ahead with an IUI with all of this terribleness in my body... well, lets just say its not helping my outlook on the success of IUI#4. 

The truth is probably that my period does nothing, and that if I'm going to worry about the condition of body, I should worry regardless of if I end up starting a new cycle or not. So I'm appealing to all of my readers: if you have safe, healthy advice for cleansing the body, detoxing, whatever you might want to call it, leave me a comment. You don't have to be infertile... I'm not looking for the secret to miracle conception or anything (well actually, I AM looking for that, so if you know that secret, MAKE SURE you leave a comment). Or if you feel like you are a guru on all things vitamin, supplement, etc and you just love what x, y, and z do for your body, then by all means, share your knowledge.

the Graduate

Seven and a half years ago, Sam told me he wanted to be a physical therapist. Interesting. I knew next to nothing about the field. I did however know that it required school beyond undergraduate, and sitting next to me was a self-professed school hater. In our exceptionally brief relationship, I had already determined that his academic adviser (one specifically for student athletes) was a moron. So, I decided to look at what this dream of his might require… low and behold, I found our that the field of physical therapy was in the midst of a transition from a Masters degree to a Doctoral degree. WHAT?!?! I immediately thought two things (I'm just being honest): 1- no way this guy's going to school for a doctorate, and 2- thank the Lord, I swore I'd never marry a doctor.

Well people, last Friday, he proved me wrong on all accounts. He in fact, did go on to receive his Doctorate in Physical Therapy!

Congratulations Sam!

Sam with "diploma" in hand after graduation!

The festivities were many, but hopefully, Sam felt proud, accomplished, loved, appreciated and supported at the end of it all! We started off all of the fun with a Hooding Ceremony on Thursday night for everyone in the College of Allied Health Sciences. Basically, it was an hour and forty-five  minutes of boredom watching undergrads get called for every award under the sun for fifteen minutes of glory as Sam and all of his fellow classmates were "hooded".

Sam receiving his hood from the Department Chair

The last fifteen minutes were lots of fun! It was particularly humorous to watch these professors stand on boxes to reach the students. I thought Sam should have simply knelt! So with that done, we moved on to the more exciting events: pictures (which he wasn't into in the dress clothes, gown, hood, and Augusta heat), dinner at Nacho Mama's and dessert at Boll Weevil.

the one and only decent picture of us
(kind of looks like he went to Hogwarts, right?)

Dessert at Boll Weevil never fails to impress. If you're ever in Augusta, make sure you stop by. And if you happen to be in town on a Sunday, double bonus, desserts are half price! Hel-lo!

"Perfect Chocolate" and "Tropical Dream"
Excellent way to end the night!

Friday morning was lots of fun! The DPT class held a brunch for friends and family. This was much more intimate and special. Plus, it was really the only time that I got to catch up with all of our friends. It's crazy to think that other than a few weddings, the class hadn't been together since July 2012! It was great to see everyone again! 

Kyle and Lesley Anne Fenton, some of our
greatest friends from our time in Augusta. So
incredibly thankful for their continued friendship!
(please ignore the weirdness of my dress)

After brunch, some speeches, some additional awards, and the traditional candle ceremony it was time to head to graduation. I'll spare you the details of what happens when you merge a local college of predominantly undergraduates (ASU) with a well known school of medicine and health sciences (MCG) to form a brand new conglomeration struggling to identify itself and find cohesive elements (GRU). Needless to say the graduation ceremony was long, fairly boring, and quite unique as it's graduates earned everything from associate degrees to doctoral degrees in everything from drawing to dentistry. The important parts were: 1- He DID it! Hello Diploma! 2- they said his name right!!! (gray-view, not groo-voo, or grugh-voo, nor gree-aw-vu)

on his way to the stage… 

diploma in hand! Congratulations Dr. Sam Greavu, PT, DPT

Sadly, this came at about the half way point… there were still approximately 867,592 graduates left to call! Bah! Sore back! Can't feel my butt! Save me! Eventually, it did end. All that was left was a few quick photos (it was roasting outside) and to pick up the actual diploma.

Woot Woot! Three long years later, it's official!
Can't believe we've come this far!

We were off after snagging the diploma and headed home. I was exhausted and sore (think one week post surgery), but crazy proud of my big boy. Saturday night we took the Graduate out to Bonefish to celebrate!

To say I'm insanely proud of my husband would be a vast understatement! Seven and a half years ago, Sam had just started his sophomore year with a 2.0 GPA. Obviously, you can't get into grad school, let alone a medical program with a GPA like that. The following years were filled with hard word and sacrifice. I can honestly say that there were times in which I wondered if we'd make it, if it would all be worth it. I'm a doubter by nature. But not Sam, even when the odds were crazy low, even when he received rejection, he never doubted where he was meant to be. Through his hard work, and by the grace of God, we made it!

The abundantly awesome part… not only did he work forty hour weeks during the last semester completing a clinical rotation and an elective, but he also studied his butt off for his board exams. And don't you know? He passed both! Within a few weeks time, Sam will receive his license to practice. He will start his first professional job within the next few weeks and we are both simply ecstatic about the opportunities that he has been given and the provision the Lord has given to bring us to this point in our lives! The sky's the limit (well, after we pay down these student loans)!

Congratulations Sam! I'm so incredibly proud of you! I pray that the next years of your life are everything you hoped they would be! 

Good at Heart

So there was this mild, small, casual affair called graduation last week… you're probably wondering when I'm going to blog about that. Well it's not today. Nope, today I'm going to remind us all that people are good. I might get to that little thing called graduation tomorrow.

Sometimes I forget that people are actually nice. It's a flaw of mine. Always has been. I tend to DESPERATELY love my people, but others…ehhhh. The good thing is that if you become one of my people, I'll bend over backwards to help you, love you, show you I care, etc. The bad news is that I often assume the worst about others. And infertility has not made this any better. Infertility opens up opportunities for people to say lots of incredibly hurtful, extremely painful, exceptionally inconsiderate things to you… but here's the thing, I think 99% of the time, it's out of ignorance. What's my evidence? Mother's Day.

You guys, Mother's Day was really incredible. Particularly my time at my church. I won't say I was dreading it, but I'd hyped myself up to "grin and bear it" as you might say. But oh my gosh, I received so many hugs! And not just a little side hug, not just a pat on the back, but real honest, "I'm not letting go first" kinds of hugs! I was totally prepared to fight back tears all day, but not from people being crazy nice to me! I guess word is spreading through my toddler's classroom. Or maybe parents google their kid's class leader's name? I don't know how they found out, but so many momma's grabbed my hand in the midst of the insanity that is pick-up to say a quick "I'm praying for you". I was fighting tears all morning. It was awesome! And I know lots of infertiles blogged about skipping church or hating to attend church on Mother's Day because it's so gosh darn hard to sit there when the preacher rains love and affection on all the mom's… I'm not going to say that none of that is hard. It's definitely hard. But you guys, my preacher took the time to discuss the fact that Mother's Day is hard for lots of people for various reasons… he even went so far as to comment about those of us who are living with empty arms. To say I was touched would be an understatement.

And I'm not the only person to have had a Mother's Day turn out quite different than anticipated. Erika did too! Erika shared with me that she probably received more cards from friends than most moms. So sweet! So with those two conclusive pieces of evidence, I've determined that people, even abundantly fertile people, are good, kind, caring, etc. I think once people know, once they begin to understand, once they grasp the pain, once they comprehend the do's and don'ts, I think they really want to help. I honestly believe that silence is often easier for people. Being on the receiving end of the silence, or worse the heartless comments, often allows me to stew in my bitterness. I get to use it as further evidence that "fertiles are heartless" or whatever the current feeling is. But when people go out of their way to love on me on a day that's all about them… I'm just blown away.

So to my fertile friends, and well, just all my non-infertile friends (is that a double negative?), I'd encourage you to keep it up. And not just for me (though I do love your comments, words of encouragement, hugs, etc), but for anyone you know who might be struggling with infertility. Believe me, you will rock their world with a simple card or a quick message.

And to my infertile friends, I would challenge you with this: make yourself open and available to the kindness of others. I totally get that some days, the best treatment for what ails us is the bed with the covers over our heads and a box of chocolates. But I also think that we often isolate ourselves out of fear of being hurt. For those of you who are open with others about your infertility… allow them to love on you. And for those of you who are not public with your struggles, for whatever reason, I would encourage you to find someone, anyone, to share your story with beyond your spouse and mom. We all might just be surprised once in a while by the pure goodness of others.

And to all of my friends who sent me sweet words to get me through the day… Your kindness and prayers are such a blessing to me in this difficult time! Thank you all for your excitement and enthusiasm about IUI #4 and Operation Get Amanda Pregnant!

Go Big, or Go Home

You guys, I'm so tired! Not like regular Monday morning tired, although that's usually pretty bad (have I mentioned I'm a fan of the four day work week?). No this is an exceptional level of tiredness. In the last ten days I've: had surgery, gone to work for three days, had my post-op, traveled to Augusta, gone to three separate graduation shindigs, cleaned the grodiest rental ever, celebrated Mother's Day, packed up all some of our stuff, and moved, not to mention the regular stuff like church and small group. But today, we're going to focus in on that teeny little part smack dab in the middle of all of that: my post-op appointment.

I had my post-op Thursday morning last week before going down to Augusta for Sam's graduation (more on that later). Now, a little background to set the scene: Dr. Slayden and I had discussed some next steps during my appointment in April. We discussed skipping straight ahead to IVF, which we can't do because we don't have the funds. We also discussed, a multitude of other less expensive options with various chances of success. My doctor is super nice and understanding about the financial issue, so if it's on the back burner, he figures we might as well try to be successful in the mean time without spending too much money. His scenario with the greatest chances of success (other than IVF) was the surgery (Laparoscopy + Hysteroscopy + D&C) + Pregnitude + Metformin/Glucophage + Femara + IUI... he briefly mentioned the IUI. We spent much more time talking about the other options. Sam and I are really over IUI's. We've done three. They didn't work. It has seemed to us that it would be the definition of insanity to keep throwing $1,500+ a pop at something that doesn't work, when we could save twelve of those and pay for IVF.

So with that said, I spent a small amount of time before the surgery deciding how we would proceed. If we found endometriosis, our odds would increase; therefore, it might make sense to try an IUI (and all the other stuff). If no endo then we would do nothing. The only thing I was really prepared to invest in after learning that there was zero endometriosis inside of me was Femara. I've had good, safe results of Femara. I ovulate regularly, with good healthy follicles, nice, lush linings, and no cysts. However, my nurse said that they wouldn't prescribe Femara without a full cycle of monitoring. So I even thought about calling my OB/GYN to get a script. But Femara was my only plan upon entering the post-op appointment.

And then my doctor entered. Have you ever met someone who just sweeps you away with their enthusiasm? That's my doctor. I sometimes wonder if he tells EVERYONE that they can set something up, but that he's confident they'll cancel before the appointment because they're pregnant. But seriously, he was just SO EXCITED; I couldn't help but get caught up in his enthusiasm... a little. He took several photographs during the surgery, and you guys, you'd have thought it was Christmas! He was so excited about how beautiful everything looked, how gorgeous my fallopian tubes are, that he got to see a spleen, etc. I'm not a biology/anatomy kind of girl, so I just saw grossness, but I tried to humor him.  But once we got past that part, he jumped straight into scheduling my next appointment to get the IUI cycle started.... what? wait a second... why are we doing an IUI? I've done three of those. But he wasn't having any of that. He was full of phrases like "hit it hard" and "go big or go home".

By the end of it all, I guess he had convinced me. Either that or I just didn't have the heart to squash his excitement. So... I guess that means we are doing another IUI. You can't be as surprised as I am. But apparently between the D&C and the thorough flushing my tubes received my chances are practically 100% increased a little. "So what's the game plan?" you may be wondering. It's kind of shocking. If I don't start a new cycle on my own between now and Memorial Day, I'm going in for a baseline scan. Dr. Slayden swears that I don't actually have to start a new cycle... my hormone levels and follicles just need to be in the baseline range. From there, we're doing Femara for five days from CD3-7 and then, wait for it, on CD8 we're doing some form of an FSH injection at 75 units. Yes, I almost died when he said this. No, I'm not sure this is a good idea. Yes, I'm scared to death of 4+ follicles. Yes, my husband will kill me if I get pregnant with triplets. No, I don't want to be the next John & Kate + 8. And no, I don't want me cycle to be cancelled. But with all of that said, I don't really want to do another Femara cycle (at least one that costs a zillion dollars) and only end up with one follicle. I want the follicle stimulation of Clomid 50mg and and the lining support and ovulation timing of Femara at 7.5mg. Dr. Slayden feels like this is as close as I'm going to get.

So get excited! Come along for the ride... it's sure to be crazy. And I'm sure to be pregnant by the end of it (or so my doctor says).