But Can It Be Done?

Brian and I have always talked about the possibility of me being a stay at home mom. We were never quite sure we could afford it, and Health Insurance in particular was always a concern. Before Brian became a small business owner in the summer of 2009, he typically worked for smaller establishments, where as I worked for more substantial companies who offered Health Benefits for the two of us. So last year when we took a leap of faith and plunged head first into significant debt for our IVF cycle, we acknowledged that would make me staying at home even less of a possibility. I understood it then, but I think I was partially in denial about how difficult it would actually be for me emotionally. And once I had our baby girl in my arms it became crystal-fucking-clear how much staying at home with her meant. 

Back in March when we knew my return to work was imminent and I was having daily meltdowns and constant nightmares about leaving Leah, we began to discuss how we could make it happen.  But it started to feel almost impossible when I realized how much debt we had. I knew I had to start with our budget. Okay, time to cut back on organic products. That, and shopping around will help with our grocery bill. I also started to shop at Costco for perishables with a girlfriend. I never used to buy their produce because I couldn’t get through it before it went bad. But now we split the food and the cost! Cable. Okay, this is where I demonstrate my complete lack of will power. I love TV. TV is my third favorite thing behind Brian and Leah. So I mentioned cutting this out of our budget before, but have yet to act on it. I’ll admit it, I was waiting for May sweeps and all of my current shows to end before axing my lifeline to tasteless entertainment. But I’m going to do it! I swear! 

Our debt is where I’ve made some real progress. I belong to a Credit Union. My credit union sent out an advertisement for consolidating credit card debt into one personal loan. I only had one credit card with a balance but I was intrigued by their 8.99% interest claim. So I went in to meet with a representative… This is where I’m going to give you the short version of the story, because while I was typing the long version I fell asleep and woke up a week later with ASDFG permanently imprinted on my cheek. 

Ready? 

Did you know you can leverage the equity in your car to refinance your current car loan? Neither did I, and it bears an off-puttingly similar stink to the ridonkulous ARM’s and psuedo secured Sub-Prime Mortgages that the banks created which got this country in the economic state that it’s in right now to begin with. 

So I totally Applied! 

And I got approved! 

I was paying 13.24% on the balance on my credit card. And 5% on my car loan. They used the equity on my car to pay off my credit card and transferred the balance on to my car loan. Since this would be a car loan and not personal loan, I qualified for a much lower rate based on my credit score and history with the bank. And they were offering an additional 1% discount if you set up an automatic payment from your checking or savings. So now instead of paying 18.24% for the both of them every month. 

I. 


Am. 


Paying. 

Drumroll please. 

2.67% 

TOTAL.

Which saves me close to $300 per month on interest alone. THREE HUNDRED Extra dollars per month that I can now put toward my cable addiction paying off our new loan!!! P.S. I have 60 months to pay it off, which will happen if I continue to only do the minimum payments...

There was a very long period of time where the only debt Brian and I had was our mortgage. And it's amazing how differently you view your credit card when there is no balance on it. When we had a large balance I felt like it would never get paid off. It was so much easier to rationalize purchases; "Ehh, I'll just throw it on the credit card"... NOT ANYMORE! Now I just feel hyper focused on throwing as much money as I can at this beast! And it's such a relief to finally be doing something about it.


Though I knew I had good credit, there was a part of me that was worried we wouldn't qualify since my income for the year so far was impacted by my maternity leave. Which makes me want to hate the banks even more because the bottom line is, this loan adjustment was the right thing to do. Ultimately it will help our monthly payments be much more affordable since the minimum due is lower, which means I can pay more than the minimum and it will go towards the principle and get us out of debt faster, which means we can eventually spend more money on cable. I mean, Leah's education. 


For the record I don't have a crazy cable package even now, no movie channels or anything. But it could be a lot smaller. And less expensive. 


So we're on our way. Ideally I'd love to say that by this time next year I will be a full time Mom, but I just don't know if we will be able to swing it. Currently a decent Health Insurance package for the three of us would be close to $1,000 per month. Which seems insane. But I have to try. Because I really, really, really want to be home with her. And I'm just so ridiculously thankful that Brian is not only supportive of this, but willing to work his ass off EVEN MORE than he is now, to make it happen. (I love you, dear!) We can always make money, but she will only be this little once...


Also, her projected height is 6'1, so Brian and I are Banking On a scholarship for Volleyball at Stanford - holla!

You're Fired.

Well the appointment I had yesterday sealed the deal. I’m done with my OB. Nothing explosive happened, but the in-depth conversation I had with him regarding childbirth plans pretty much gave me all of the ammunition information I needed. 

O.V.E.R. 

He’s a lovely doctor, and I’m sure that our baby would be delivered safely in his care, but I evidently wouldn’t have much of a say in it. So here’s the first part of what you should know and where things went wrong. 

I’m hoping to deliver this child naturally. With no epidural, and minimal medical intervention. 

What my dinosaur doctor heard was: I hate Doctors and hospitals and I plan to be as uncooperative and insubordinate as possible during my delivery, so good luck with that. 

He started off by suggesting I stay away from reading materials. Explaining that they can be quite dogmatic and contradictory to other sources, and that my body will really know what to do because it’s programmed into our DNA. Okay, I get that school of thinking. I can appreciate the theory of the power of suggestion, and I just so happen to agree 100% that delivering a baby is probably built into my DNA. But I also believe that you can prepare yourself for something like this. I will be experiencing a level of pain to which I have never known. Not even after sitting through the entire showing of Sex and the City II. I think I should know what’s coming. And the more I sat there listening to him, the more it sounded like he was saying “This is what can happen if you let women learn how to read…” 

When I say I want to deliver with no epidural and minimal medical intervention, I do not mean: in a barn. I am not Anti- Doctor, or medicine. Obviously, we did IV-fucking F. I’ll do whatever means necessary to get my desired result, savvy? And I am also not stupid. I realize that I can make all the birth “plans” I want, and things could end up 180 degrees differently. (Hi Murgdan!) So aside from preferring a completely natural delivery, our other plan is to know our options. So in Scenario A, B, C, or Q, Brian and I will have some kind of idea of what my preferences are so I won’t have to deliberate a life changing decision in the midst of a contraction. Or if I’ve checked out completely, (not dead, but incapacitated) Brian and I will be on the same page. 

When I mentioned this to him a few months ago, I’m guessing he yes’d me on the au natural part. But today when I talked to him about studying The Bradley Method, the mood all changed. He told me that the Bradley Method was somewhat “Anti-Doctor”. Which is interesting because so far what I’ve gotten out of the book, is that it’s really about husband/partner coached labor. When I explained that my main idea’s behind using this method is that it took so much medical intervention to get me pregnant, I really like the idea of giving my body back the control. Not to mention taking some of the work load off of my poor kidneys. On top of that I think this could be a really amazing experience for Brian and I as a couple. I don’t believe that labor has to be scary and dramatic. I know it will be painful and hard work, and potentially very long. (that’s why they call it labor, no?) But I also believe that I am capable of doing it without much involvement from medical technologies. 

I asked him how many of his patients delivered naturally, he said 20-30%. And then he said the percentages were lower with his Bradley patients, and that I might want to consider getting a doula to assist us. (Which I’m totally not opposed to, I’m actually trying to find one that will take my insurance) And continued on that ‘no one really wants medical intervention, but sometimes it’s just necessary’. I interjected with: I actually know women who would sign up for an epidural now, if the release form came with their hpt kit. True Story. And then what I should have said but wasn’t quick enough to think of is: Odd though that if no one really wants medical intervention, how come 70-80% of your patients end up with

 it???? 

Please know, I am not against Medical Intervention. Epidurals. Hospitals. Doctors. Nurses. Vaccines. America’s Got Talent being renewed for yet another season, even though I truly believe it is a crime against humanity. DO WHAT IS BEST FOR YOU. To each, his own. All god’s children, yada yada... I’m just saying this is my preference and I’m going to find a licensed medical practitioner who will do their damnedest to help us prepare for it, and hopefully see us through a delivery the way we’d prefer, while in a safe and legal nature, resulting in an insanely healthy live baby being born. If there are one hundred and forty two things I've learned from Infertility, number two on the list is being your own advocate. Good day to you, Sir.

Proceed Follies, Proceed.

First things first, I'm happy to report:  No crazy dreams leading up to the first monitoring appointment. My hoo-hoo wasn't displayed on a Megatron, picture window, or skype for that matter. All good things. As I type this I can only wonder if the whore-bag cyst had anything to do with that. The official report is that she's gone for good! I was super nervous going in that I'd have one giant follie the size of Rachel Zoe, and end up getting cancelled fo' shiz. But Dr. 3 was quite happy with my progress and didn't see that hooker anywhere.

So with all this excitement I have no choice but to whip out my bullet points. (oh my)

• Left Side: 8 follies, all measuring 12 - 13mm
• Right Side: 9-10 follies, all measuring 12 - 13mm
• Lining: 8.3mm
• Estrodial: 587
• Prolactin: 18

Dr. 3 was all smiles this morning, and said that my progress was on the higher side of the median he likes to see. I feel good about that. I think. I go back on Wednesday for another monitoring check, but he thinks I could trigger as early as Wednesday night, possibly Thursday. Which meeeeeans, my ER could be Friday or Saturday!!!

I really, really can't believe our time is finally here. I'm so ridiculously happy right now.  My pants are unbuttoned, and I'm smiling like an idiot - I just can't believe we'll have our very own embryo's this weekend. I love them already - is that weird?

So next up: Meds are the same tonight and tomorrow, except that I'll add in Heparin which brings me to four shots per night, oy. I know that it'll soon be two, once I'm off the stims and start the Progesterone in Oil. Which I've heard is heavenly (she says sarcastically). So again, I ask for your wisdom and experience - what are the best ways to minimize the ouchiness of the POI shots? I've heard horror stories of welts, and sore spots that last for MONTHS. I'd like to avoid that, please and thank you. So, spill it.

42nd Time Wasn't the Charm

This month represents our 42nd cycle of trying to get pregnant.

Normally AF's appearance would be greeted with a glass of wine and a good cry, but today it means something else.

It's CD1 of our first IVF cycle.
(and hopefully only)

I'll start BCP's the day after Christmas. My nurse gave me our tentative schedule, and I haven't been this excited about anything in a very, very long time. I want a BFP so fucking badly I can taste the after vomit from morning sickness... (too far? oh well.)

12/26 Start Birth Control Pills

12/29 & 1/12 Humira Injections (for Immunology Issues/ Neutralize Cytokines)

1/16 Start Lupron Injections

1/20 Last BCP

1/25 Estradiol & CBC, Blood Tests

1/27 Start Follistim

2/2 Estradiol, Prolactin, NK & TH1/2, Ultrasound & back up Semen Sample

2/6 - 9 Estimated Retrieval

2/9 - 16 Estimated Transfer (they prefer a day 5 transfer)

Beta at 13 days past transfer

Fall 2011 - We become parents

Presumptuous? Yes. But monkeys? I can't afford to be anything BUT hopeful....

Anyhoo, this might be my last post for 2010 (and good riddance to this year, I'm so OVER it). So I'd like to take this take this opportunity to thank all of you who offered unwavering support through my year of "recovery", then wish everyone a Merry Christmas; if that's your bag, but more than anything I wish you all a very, very Happy 2011.

Out Of The Frying Pan

I took a pregnancy test yesterday morning. Don't get excited - it was negative. I really didn't think that I would see more than one line, but AF is two days late, and I wanted to drink coffee and alcohol guilt-free. Also I think I'm coming down with an infection (awesome) and I didn't want to worry about scrambling our egg with meds- if you know what I mean. And of course, I know you always do.

I keep all of my TTC paraphernalia in a small storage box in my bathroom linen cabinet, and since January it has been tucked away on the bottom shelf, all the way at the very back. I had to get down on my hands and knees just to reach it. And when I finally pulled it out, it took me a good minute before I could actually open it. I suddenly felt very aware that I was on my hands and knees. Being in that vulnerable position, with that box, and everything it represented instantly flooded my mind with images of the person I used to be.

First the good memories; what it felt like the first time I took a pregnancy test out of that cabinet. The excitement, the realization that I was a grown woman, married, and ready to start my own family. The positive OPK's, and how fun it was to make love because we thought we were creating our family. Then slowly the bad memories crept in; the countless tests with single lines. The disdain I felt for the Dixie cups I used to collect my first morning's urine. The frustration of deciphering how dark the line was on the Internet cheapie OPK. The tears that flowed as I slammed that box back in to the cabinet after yet another BFN. And let us not forget the thousands of calories that I consumed to try to ease the pain. Followed by the deepest depression I've ever known.

I could feel my breath quicken, and I suddenly wanted nothing to do with that box. I haven't looked at it in eight long months. No hpt's not opk's, for the better half of 2010. I was different person last time I saw that box - if I opened it again what would that make me? Is this the beginning of the end of the peace that I've found from our eight month respite? When we move forward with IVF in January, will I lose sight of the strength and balance I've worked so hard to regain?

I read so many of the ALI community's blogs, and I ache as I see some of you in that place where I spent so much of 2008, and 2009. Knee deep in the trenches, overwhelmed with frustration and desperation. But still without the slightest waiver of determination in the quest to become a mother.

In the same distinctive way that some feel lucky to have been dealt the challenge of infertility, myself included, I feel lucky that we didn't have the money to jump right into IVF. Because I wouldn't have had that time to heal so many of the battle wounds, to free myself from the reigns of depression, to loose the 30lbs I gained from eating my feelings. To see how unhealthy I was, and how toxic my addiction to TTC had become to my marriage.

At the end of this month I will attend a seminar given by the man who will most likely become our new RE. And four days after that we'll have phone meeting to get us started on our path to IVF early next year. I feel nothing but bliss with the thought of me possibly being pregnant this time next year, but I'm terrified of losing myself again in the mix of all of it. It's just too damn easy to get swallowed up in the whole process. Expectations vs Results, Realism vs Negativity; I'm four months away from all of it, and already I feel like my strategy's are bullshit.

How did you cope? Did you have plans in place to help manage stress?

Unplugged

Though my husband would emphatically disagree, I have to say how lovely it is to exist in a place without Cell phones or News reports. To spend your day without knowing what time it is, only identifying it in segments related to meals and shut eye. It must be how my dog feels every day.

I'm sorry to say I don't have any pictures for you. I fully intended to spend a significant amount of time capturing the wilderness I spent almost every summer in during my childhood. But I just never got around to it. Productivity had no part in this trip and I'm incredibly thankful for that. I needed that. To shut down. To unplug. To eat. To laugh. To spend time with people I love. It was so nourishing. It was also however, very, very cold. Sweatshirt weather during the daytime, and beanie and parka weather at night. It most certainly dipped well into the low 30's after sunset which is not exactly something I'm used to. I realize I probably sound like a panzy because some of you live in that type of weather, but how often to you sleep outside during it?

I truly enjoy camping. The smell. The quiet. The time we get to spend with my family, it's wonderful. And something about it makes me feel like a kid again. Unfortunately that something is when I have to trek it to the bathroom in the middle of the freezing cold night. There's just something so unsettling about not being able to see further than the beam of my flashlight that I simply cannot contain while I'm up there. Then once I make it safely back to my tent I spend the next twenty minutes or so trying not to think about how easy it would be for someone or something to murder me while I lay helpless, bundled up in my sleeping bag. Some of you will either know exactly what I mean or think I am a complete nut case. But that will never change the fact that when I'm camping, I am afraid of the dark.

Getting away from the hustle and bustle of every day life has reminded me of more than just how liberating it can be to really shut things off for a few days. It's made me realize how this break from ttc has given me a piece of my life back. And I say "a piece", because I still don't feel whole. But at least it's something. A glimmer of who I was, and what I may be again someday in the future. When the noises of infertility don't invade my thoughts and dreams. When I live my day in small segments of time, instead of two week periods that seem to drag on until I realize that actually months, and years have passed.

I admit that in gaining a part of myself back, I've lost the part of me that yearns to spend so much time here. While I miss so many of you that I've come to know so well over the years, it's also a little painful. To see you move on, to see you fail, to see you waiting, like me, for when you've healed enough, saved enough to move on to the next step - whatever that may be. Being slightly removed from all the ups and downs makes me realize how difficult that world is, how consuming and demanding treatments can be. And I'm awe of the strength you each possess. And I'm reminded of the support you've all given me, and how I hope that I've been there for you as much as you've been there for me. I don't mean that to sound like I'm going anywhere, I just feel the need to clarify my absesnce from your comments and lack of posting here. It's an unfortunate struggle between wanting to know every little update in the lives I feel so invested in, and needing a little space from such an all encompassing saga. I hope that makes sense.

Radio Silence

I've had plenty to write about lately, but just not the urge to write. Which feels strange to me. There have been many moments over the last two plus years where I found myself suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to come here and lay it all out. Every thought. Every feeling. Leaving no detail unwritten. But lately I find that I'm less and less inclined to share. Not because I think the details of my goings on these days are any less important, but because my feelings aren't bubbling over the top anymore. This break from trying - it's starting to become more than a getaway and more like an extended leave. Don't get me wrong it's not like all the baby thoughts have magically disappeared- All the normal stuff that bothers us infertile's still stings, but the voices that echo the pain back and forth have begun to grow still, and I can hear myself think again.

It's kinda nice.

So as much as I hate to admit it our old RE was sort of right about seeing a urologist. He was a really cool Doctor, and aside from being extremely knowledgeable about IF, he was just really funny and warm, and didn't BS us. And in the middle of the appointment he stopped what he was doing and told us he hopes it happens for us soon because we're going to be great parents. It was just so sweet of him to say, he sounded so genuine it kind of caught me off guard. And then he asked Brian to turn his head and cough.

So other than concluding the appointment with information we already knew, we did at least get some reassurance about Brian's Testosterone levels, which our most recent RE told us to look into. Brian's results were on the higher side of being boarder line, but it turns out that his test was done at 1pm, when testosterone levels should be checked at 8am... So this doctor said they would more than likely be normal if we were to test again at the correct time. Which makes sense cause Brian usually has a five o'clock shadow by noon. So next we'll probably do the DNA fragmentation test with our current RE because they give a discount to those who have no IF insurance coverage.

In other news we're going to interview one more RE. He's very well established, and closer to home than our current RE, so if we like him and the cost won't be much different then it'd be nice to be so close to his office. And while I feel it's necessary to finish up some testing and check one more doctor off our list, I also think it's important that I tell you all how far away our next treatment will probably be. We haven't set a date for when we're jumping back on the ttc train, and we're not going to. Partially because of finances and partially because I am REALLY not ready. I still can't believe I feel that way, and I remember shaking my head when reading a statement like that on other blogs. I couldn't identify with not wanting to pursue treatments. But right now, I need to focus on me and Brian. I've been doing that a lot more lately and it feels SO GOOD. The clouds are slowly lifting, and I'm head over heels for my new found freedom from heartache. Yes, I still think about babies, and everything we've gone through. I still haven't gone back on Fac.ebook to avoid a pregnancy related status update. But the wait/weight is gone. I'm not going to let anxiety and frustration rule my life anymore. Until I start cycling again anyway.

2009 Can Suck It

Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit. I thought we had an agreement.

YOU were going to be nicer than 2008. Fucker.

I HATE YOU, and I'm so glad I'll never EVER have to see you again.

Whew, I feel better. I think I'm all done being Angry for a while. Dude, even my Horoscope admits things have been crappy for the last couple of years. Check this out:

Year 2010 Overview

Okay, pause for a moment and check your pulse. Still there? Good. That means you survived the last couple of years with both Saturn and Pluto in less-than-perfect places for you. And by "less than perfect," I mean "LOUSY." Good News! Both of astrology's heavyweights have moved on to more constructive places for you. Now is the time to take that famous Pisces sensitivity (still in tact from the challenges of the last while) and put it to work making your life a happier and more comfortable place.

You'll be receiving a lot more attention from others in 2010: loved ones, family, and co-workers will all be drawn to you at times like moths to a flame. And as a result of the last couple of years worth of hassle, you'll be a stronger person with better judgement, and much better able to handle the influx. Enjoy your new position at the center of your own social circle! One more noteworthy change from the previous year: Jupiter will be in your sign for most of the year, giving you new found sense of optimism and happiness no matter how they turn out. You'll be feeling expansive, but be careful not to expand too much -- this transit also comes with a more than usual weight gain. There will be a renewed emphasis on health, fitness and personal well being in the spring -- take advantage of that. Then again, maybe you deserve the break. What's a pound or two compared to real happiness?

That weight gain reference best be stemming from a successful pregnancy. Pluto and Saturn at least owe me that.. Sonsabitches. Besides I start my Yoga class Monday.

I got that Horoscope from here. In case any of you are into Chinese astrology, I'm a sheep (or goat). I'd love to hear more good news if you come across it. =)

Happy New Year Folks!

Okay I'm Freaking Out A Little

First things first, I have no news. (sorry if the title was misleading) Other than I'm really starting to freak out. The anticipation is KILLING me.

With the exception of the first part of my post yesterday, I'm not typically the type who talks about their symptoms in the wait. I usually just say I feel nothing, even when I notice a thing or two. Partially because I hate pointless drama, and don't want to get any ones hopes up, namely mine. Partially because I'm un peu superstitious. But mostly because I really do my damnedest to ignore and disqualify them. That being said: most of yesterday afternoon I had, what I thought was, pretty significant uterine cramping. And later in the evening it turned into lower back cramping. The lower back cramping is what I typically get the moment my period shows up. But not for very long. I rarely have cramps at all. Could it have been the crappy seats at the Sharks game? Possibly. But what kills me is today I feel NOTHING. Not a cramp, not a twinge. Nothing.

And I'm starting to freak out.

I'm DYING to take a test, yet I'm utterly terrified of the results.

Tomorrow marks one year exactly that we got our IVF diagnosis. I can't believe it's been a whole fucking year. I'm freaking out. Agonizing over what that test will tell me tomorrow. This wait- is killing me....

Making Plans

I'd just like to say one thing before I get into the cycle gab, if you haven't tried the Caramel Brulee Latte from Starbucks, DO IT, do it NOW. They are f'ing fantastic!

Anyway... So I did email Dr. C. The long and short of it is that I expressed my frustration over the timing of my IUI's and lack of attention from him. And he politely explained that their timing methods are proven, but conceded that not all cycles are the same, and agreed to change up the timing with this next cycle. He's very nice and extremely tactful when dealing with crazy unpregnant women. But that doesn't change the fact that we will be looking for a new RE if this cycle doesn't work. He's not the whole reason we'll be shopping, honestly driving up to the city several times a month is getting REALLY old. I know we're lucky that it's not hours away and we have more than two choices of clinics within 30 miles, but inconvenience is relative, right?. If I can go to an equally impressive clinic and not have to put up with traffic and expensive parking, then I'm going to take advantage of that...

And speaking of moving on, Brian and I have been talking a lot about what our next steps are going to be. We're both completely aware that our IUI's days are probably numbered. We assume it's only a matter of time before they recommend that we move on to IVF. We've discussed it a lot and both feel that at that point we'd probably just move on to adoption. We of course love the idea of me being pregnant some day, but our ultimate goal is to be a family. We just want children in our lives... However they may come. Financially IVF is going to be very difficult for us to afford, so if we're going to shell out 20k, we'd prefer it go to something with higher odds of us ending up with a baby. I guess we're just super conservative that way. And none of this is set in stone, we're not ready to stop doing treatments. I'd really like to move on to injectables with our next round of IUI's, but it's also good to have a plan.

As for Brian and I, we're doing a lot better. I think the fact that I am slowly emerging from the fog has been helpful, but the counseling is making a significant difference as well. It's nice to feel close again. I missed him so much. Brian thank you for putting up with my crazy. I promise someday all this heartache will be worth it some how. When we're grandparents, maybe... I love you dear.

Meh

The title of this post completely sums up the way I'm feeling right now.

I'm 5dpo.

I have nothing to report.

Just wading my way through another two week wait.

I have no inclination as to how this cycle is going to turn out.

I'm at that point where I'm sort of feeling like it's never going to happen. I don't mean ever, but just not anytime soon. I'm terrified that we'll spend the rest of this year and the beginning of next year doing IUI's. And eventually have to stop and save up for IVF. And that, my friends, is going to take a long ass time.

Yesterday while leaving the store, I saw this man in the parking lot taking pictures with his blac.kberry of his two little girls jumping in puddles. The smile on his face was just as wide as his little girls'. I smiled at first too, but my heart quickly sank. Scene's like this me ache with longing. Will that EVER be Brian?

It's seems like it's less and less the Mom's that make me sigh, and more the Dad's. Fathers with their children on their shoulders, strapped to their chests, or even just holding their hands. When do I get to cherish the picture I took of our baby sleeping in Brian's arms?

I'm just getting so tired of waiting. Not impatient, but weary and haggard. Please god, please make it happen soon.

My New Lucky Number ?

Thirteen. 13. That's right. I know I babbled about the third time being the charm and all that. I still believe that too, but now I hoping that an affiliation with the number thirteen might do it. Now some view 13 as unlucky, but I personally associate it with a bakers dozen. And how could one extra Chocolate Old Fashion possibly be a bad thing??? I know it's silly to heave my faith on to a superstition, but honestly? It's all I've got. I'm hoping the multiple encounters I've had with this number in the last week might actually be fortuitous for us. It all started when Ms. B (my acupuncturist) said she thought the fact that I ovulated on CD13 was a "lucky coincidence". At first I rolled my eyes and blew it off thinking she was just trying to appease me while I was flipping out because I ovulated so early. But then the next day when we pulled up outside the clinic for our second IUI, it occurred to me that the date was Sunday, September 13th. I giggled to myself as we were getting out of the car. Then I saw this:

Fast forward a few days and I'd tell you that for the most part this cycle has really been at the back of my mind. My positive OPK came and went so fast, I barely had time to obsess over it. I only used two OPK tests. Unlike last cycle, where I blew through what seemed like a gross of CBE's. It's really been a blessing. Anyway, I hadn't thought about it again until I was on my way to work this morning and I realized we are on our 26th cycle. And what's half of 26? Yep, 13. ALRIGHT, I know that's a stretch. I know that these numbers will not dictate a pregnancy. But I am hoping against all hope that this is finally it. So if a lucky number is going to help me feel a little more hopeful I am going to stick with it. (Read:Delusional)

Okay, enough of my crazy talk... I'd like to put out a little warning about Orvidrel. A fellow blogger L from There's a Baby At the End, just had an IVF cycle ruined due to a defective vial. Her clinic was not able to retrieve any eggs because the trigger didn't work. L lists the pharmaceutical company and the Lot Number on her vials. If you have Orvidrel in your fridge, please stop by her blog to see if you have the same batch and save yourself some heartache. Or go by when you can to give her some support. Thanks folks.

A Legacy

I cannot believe it's September. Three months ago I assumed I would be welcoming this month with open arms and a decaf Pumpkin Spice Latte. Instead my heart aches for this summers swift passing. This is the third fall I have welcomed with nothing but failed cycles behind me and the end of another year ticking away like a metronome.

I love Fall. September 1st has always been important to me, something I looked forward to. But it is especially bittersweet now that we're involved in assisted cycles, and still have nothing to show for it. I feel like this year is slipping away and our chance for a 2010 baby is going with it...

Of course I'm still hopeful in the orthodox ways. I wouldn't be doing these IUI's and acupuncture if I didn't think they would work. I just feel like it's getting harder and harder to picture our life with a baby in it. Sometimes because it's just too painful to think about, and other times I'm sort of afraid to jinx it. How sad is that? Am I really at the point where I think day dreaming might actually destroy our chance at conceiving? My superstitions, much like my optimism, have become alarmingly erratic. Oh well.

On to good thoughts. And good things. Good things that spoil my diet.

This is my Grandmother. Every September we get together to bake apple pies. Everyone has a favorite dish cooked by a family member, and in mine, it's Grandma's apple pie. My affinity for her not-so-precise recipe runs so deeply that I won't even order apple pie at restaurants. They just never taste right.

Cooking is a huge part of the connection I share with my family. We usually plan out a menu before we even have an event to prepare it for. I can't think of a better way to spend a Saturday. My Grandmother is one of the most amazing women I have ever known. She is the epitome of a matriarch. Gracious and kind, but stern when it's called for. Warm, welcoming, and always there when you're in a bind. She's 84 and will totally kick your ass at Croquette. She and my grandfather helped my dad raise my brother and I. We grew up three blocks away and spent every day after school with them until High School. We're with them every holiday, and every special occasion. They have made me into the woman I am today, and this month the family will help them celebrate their 64th wedding anniversary.

Behold, the finished product. How do you make an apple pie pretentious? Monogram it.

The Revival

It's been seven months since the last time I used an ovulation prediction test. It was just a few short weeks before we would hear our fate. I can clearly remember the even amounts of anxiety and excitement that came with a positive OPK. It represented hope. Here is a new cycle. A new chance. Maybe this will be the month. The month that we get it right, that the stars are aligned, that we'll beat the odds that were quickly stacking against us as the months wore on.

I made sure to drink enough water to stay hydrated so that my CM would be supplimented, but not too much so that it would dilute the amount of LH that could be detected in my dixie cup, ironically covered in a childlike patterns of circus animals or teddy bears. I used the cheapy ones, not the POAS ones. I am a pro at aiming into a dixie cup by the way. I know exactly how much I need to complete a test, and I'm disturbingly comfortable with handling my own urine.

Earlier this year, at a point when I was really down, I gave away all of my OPK's and all but three HPT's. I gave them to a good friend who would could get more use from them than I could at the time. I just couldn't bear to look at them. They reminded me too much of what I thought I couldn't have. I can see now why it was important that I did. I needed distance from the reminders of everything they represented. The rigorous monitoring that was inducing frustration rather than hope. And the thought of upcoming cycles that only seemed futile after hearing our test results.

I purchased a whole new arsenal of OPK's today. My RE requires that I use them for my IUI next month. I bought them early for this cycle, in hopes that I could I get a grasp on what the time lapse is between my positive OPK and when I start to get significant abdominal pain from ovulating. Yes, I am part of the small percentage of women that have Mittelschmerz.

I was surprised at how overwhelming it felt to make this relatively mundane purchase. The instant charge I felt when I typed my request into the search engine was almost breathtaking. It felt good. Here is a new cycle. A new chance. Maybe July will be the month for us. When things will go right, when the stars will be aligned, and we'll beat the odds.

Infiltrated

I have the greatest husband in the world. On average, he works 70 hours a week. No kidding. Real work. LABOR. And yet, he still makes the time to listen to me and how crazy I am. He has it all figured out. I worry, because he likes to "shoot from the hip", and I'm way too conservative. He's gonna love this child more than any thing else in the world. It doesn't matter where we get it, it just matters that we do the best we can possibly do to raise him/her and show them the true values of life and what its all about. I should quit worrying about things and put more trust in him. I know he's smart, and has a good sense of direction, but I'm just too controlling to let anyone else guide me. God, I love my hubby. Such a good man. I can't wait to see him play catch with our boy, or teach his girl how to build a doll house, or play catch.  He's gonna be such a good dad. We should just do it already. I cant wait to have a family to call my own.

I love my wife.......I'm glad she let me write this.......Thanx pie!!!

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And then he took me out for ice cream.

The Proposal

I knew today was going to be a good day. I have a new bra on, and some how that always makes the sky that much more blue... I spoke with my IUI Coordinator today. She was helpful and had a very soothing telephone voice. Which I totally appreciate because I am the freak who's blood pressure sky rockets whenever I'm at the doctors office. The anticipation KILLS me for some reason. And even when I receive a phone call from them I can feel my chest tightening, among other things...

She told me that she was going to walk me through each step of the preparation for my IUI and that I could take notes if I wanted but that she was also going to send me a list with all of the details. - A list? For Moi? Enchanté...

First I need to go in for more blood tests that probably won't be covered by my insurance. SHOCKING.

1.Blood Type, (which I should know but don't),
2.Rubella (which I hopefully don't have)
3.Varicella (which is Chicken Pox, had it when I was a kid)
4.Prolactin (which I'm told is the hormone associated with lactation, and I'm pretty sure there's none of that going on, but they're the doctors, so whatever. )
5.CBC - (Complete Blood Count - Checks the quantities of Red and White Blood Cells and Platelets, hearing that makes me think "CBC, and a CHEM 7". I loved ER)

In the packet she's going to send me I'll be getting a few different consent forms which will need to be notarized. They have to do with the actual Insemination procedure and the Cryo Preservation of our vials. And after all that is taken care of, as long as my blood tests come back clean, I mean okay, of course they'll be clean. Then we just wait until August...

Speaking of waiting until August, when we told our RE that we were planning to do it then, he said it was a shame that we were waiting so long because he's like to see me pregnant much sooner. Awwwwwwwwwww. He's a very soft spoken southern gentleman, with a perfectly lovely bedside manner, and good sense of humor. I LOVE HIM. I was really hesitant to see a male doctor at first because I have always had female Physicians. I like my mechanics to own their own car's, if you know what I mean. He's only seen my goods once for an ultrasound, but he has such a comforting presence that I didn't seem to be as nervous with him. He also told us that he thinks a double IUI would be best because we are planning an "Unmedicated Cycle". So I'll be doing OPK's to monitor. Then the morning that I receive a positive test I'll go in for my first IUI, and then again the next morning.

The feeling I have right now is what I was expecting after my last call with with our RE. I am so thrilled to begin this process, I'm just over the moon right now... I have another conference call with my Cryo Bank Coordinator. She just came back from vacation so I'm not sure when she'll be able to get back to me. Hopefully soon. And as for August? Well, lets hope that comes soon too.

*** Welcome ICLW Readers***

Identity Crisis

It's not always evident when you read my one of my posts, but I am a pretty practical, deliberate, and no nonsense person. So when we first began discussing the fact that we would be completely honest with our child and family about DI, I was well aware that we would likely run into some asshole who'd inevitably say some rude/narrow-minded bullshit, which might lead to me being dragged away in handcuffs. Okay maybe I wouldn't go that far, but I really assumed that after a brief and gentle explanation to that person about DI and why what they said was offensive, I'd be able to shake it off. Or at the very least, laugh at them over a glass of wine later that night while daydreaming about their mysterious disappearance.

The book I'm reading about DI families discusses public tolerance and basically says if your are going to be open with your child from an early age, as we plan to, you need to expect to hear words like "Sperm bank" and "donor family" from your four year old's mouth while in mixed company. Because at four years old, discretion means nothing. So strangers will likely hear of your child's background before your are ready to confide in them. SO BE PREPARED.

We're only about ankle deep in the world of what it is to be a DI family. (We haven't even told our whole family yet) But right around the time that we made our final decision, I came across some really hurtful comments about deciding to use DI on a forum I belong to. I couldn't believe that in this place I considered to be safe, that I would read such rude/narrow-minded bullshit. It stopped me dead in my tracks, I wanted to retreat. And for a second (actually a day) I considered making my blog private again. So that I could use discretion when sharing our story... I was overwhelmed by a sudden urge to protect our privacy, to run from those disparaging comments. I confided in Brian my dismay at the bigotry I encountered and he poetically responded with "Fuck them, why do you care what they think anyway?" And again. I was stopped dead in my tracks. Why did I care what they thought?! Who was this pansy running from the first bit of resistance?! I felt like I was in fifth grade again running away from the kids who made fun of my off brand jeans.

Infertility has thrown so many curve balls that I shouldn't have been surprised by yet another after school beating. But fortunately, that little episode was nothing more than a blip on my radar. There are so many other things to think about now, so many wonderful things. Like morning sickness and swollen ankles.

For the longest time I've used this blog as at outlet for sadness and frustration. But I all of a sudden find myself with nothing to report but absolute glee. I am no longer stymied by a heavy heart. The countdown has begun.

We're planning to do our first IUI this August. And I am FUCKING stoked.

Introducing...

Sa.wyer Rob.ert Re.if was born this morning at 4:29 am. I am thoroughly honored to say that I was a witness to his birth. I am also however, thoroughly exhausted. So please excuse any fragmented sentences, as I will not be able to accurately edit this until I get out of bed. Next week.

One of my oldest and dearest friends is Sawyer's mommy. She invited me to witness this indescribable miracle, not because we're close enough that she wouldn't be embarrassed if I saw her spread eagle while groaning through labor, but to motivate me to move on already with a plan for our own family. I would imagine she thought that witnessing childbirth would be enough of an instigation to get my ass in gear. Little does she know that the invitation alone is part of what helped move me along. Brian and I made a decision about a week ago.

I was concerned at first. When she asked me I was completely stunned and told her I would have to think about it. I was a little terrified what that experience might do to my jumbled, infertility laden brain. Could I handle seeing a brand new baby placed on his mother's chest for the very first time? Would it break me? Would I fall apart?

The answers are yes and no, respectively. It was without question, a life changing experience. And I can't thank her and her husband enough for allowing me to share it with them.

Brian and I will be using Donor Insemination to start our family. It was the toughest decision we have ever had to make as a couple. We deliberated carefully between our options. The further we broke things down, the more apparent it became that we had base our decision on practicalities. IVF is financially, just plain out of reach for us. We could spend the next two to three years scrounging to save for a 40-60% chance, while my biological clock moves along unwavered by our less than supple pocket books... We could refinance our mortgage and be encumbered by a new, and inevitably higher payment. Which would only lead Brian to work more hours - and if you don't know Brian, he already works longer and harder on a daily basis, than anyone I've ever met. And I couldn't do this without him. I don't mean change diapers and wash bottles and do laundry. I mean I couldn't relish a family we went through so much to attain, without him by my side. Hearing the heartbeat for the first time, and feeling the baby kick. Watching first steps and introducing new foods... I won't even consider taking that away from him.

The other factors include the success percentages versus our specific diagnosis of severe MFI. While Y Chromosome Microdeletion was ruled out, there is the possibility of other genetic or chromosomal errors that we had to take into consideraion.

So, I feel good. Brian and I have been giving each other the those silly, knowing, little smiles that we did when we first started trying. Talking about names again and possible dues dates. When I'm in his arms it's incredibly easy to feel hopeful, and even blissful about the idea of FINALLY becoming parents. But when I'm alone, or laying awake in bed, the uneasiness creeps in. I think about the stories of failed DI by IUI, that are unexplained and ultimately leave the couple with IVF as their only other option. I probably sound ridiculous and you're thinking I shouldn't torture myself with the "what if's" and also, that I whine an awful lot. The problem is, I already know what its like to have the rug pulled out from underneath me. Like when I kept telling myself "It can take a healthy couple up to a year to conceive"...Well we all know how that turned out, DON'T WE.

We don't yet have an exact start date, it's definitely several months away. I really would like to elaborate on that but the drool on my keyboard tells me it's time to wrap things up and hit the sack. I've been up since 1am. I wonder if this exhaustion is anything close to what I will feel in my first trimester? I can't wait to compare it.

Undone

Have you ever missed someone you've never met? Or ached for something so much that its hard to breathe?
I'm down today. I should have seen it coming. I've been pretty even keel, since our first meeting with the RE. Calmly putting it all into some kind of perspective. Was I just fooling myself? How do you organize your feelings for something like this? I've calculated and plotted. But it seems as soon as some sort of conclusion is reached, it all comes crashing down behind us. And I feel lost again.

Complicated

We heard back from the RE regarding the genetic testing for Brian. The great news is that he does not have the Y Chromosome Microdeletion. Fantastic to know for the fact that it won't be passed down to our potential son(s), but unfortunately it doesn't change the fact that we will still need IVF.

While we discussed the possibility of Brian having a chromosomal error, the RE mentioned the idea of using a sperm donor. Brian and I had discussed this a while ago and decided it wasn't something we wanted to do. But when we were speaking with the RE he asked us if adoption was something we had considered, when we said yes, he pointed out that if we did use a donor, the child would at least be biologically be one of ours (mine). And that if we knew we could love and care for an adopted child, what would be the difference if only one of us would be related by blood? Thank you doctor, we REALLY needed to add another quandary to our situation.

So before we received the results to the blood tests, we let the idea of Brian having a chromosomal error sink in, and the more we thought about it the more we became concerned about what could be passed on to our potential children. And the more a donor sounded like a good idea. You're probably wondering how that could even be an option for us. Believe it or not, I have had a harder time with it than Brian, I couldn't let go of the idea of this baby not being half of my husband. Not having his eyes or smile or height, or bionic metabolism. But moving passed my romantic notions, there are dozens of other factors that should be taken into consideration. First of all we would never ask anyone we knew for a "donation". And despite the crude jokes that some of Brian's guy friends have made, I would not be asking any of them for "assistance". I digress. So. Should we use an anonymous donor? Or one that is open to being contacted after a child has been conceived. Not that we would want to keep in touch but for the childs sake. You can of course choose a donor that has similar physical features, but you also need to look at the quality of his sperm. We also decided that if we were to use a donor we would be open with our child. Which brings up even more things to think about... Even if you begin telling this child everything from a very early age and explain that they are very much loved and wanted and that they're special, will they resent us? Will they want to look for their biological father? How will that make us feel? Will they feel different from other kids or worse, different than Brian? Will they have the same connection with him?

One of the benefits of using a donor is that it would not require IVF. IVF is physically and emotionally a very taxing procedure with months of preparation. And it costs like a bazillion dollars. If we were to use a donor we could do an IUI, or Intra Uterine Insemination. The RE gave us up to an 80% chance of conceiving per cycle in the first six months with a donor IUI. That is excellent. It's also under 2k. But forget the monetary costs for a moment. What would a failed IVF cost us emotionally? Our chances with IVF are more like 40-60%. And the devastation of an unsuccessful IVF is something we still aren't prepared to deal with.

Our conversation with the good doctor took place via conference call, Friday night. Right before his two week trip to India. So we have some time to think of a few more pages of questions for him, we plan to bombard him when he gets back. Safe trip Doc, safe trip.