I'm sitting here in my living room this morning, looking at the lights on our Christmas tree and feeling not one, but TWO babies kicking me. If you'd told me a year ago that this is what I'd be doing on Christmas Eve 2007, I probably would have laughed (actually it's entirely possible I'd have decked you!).
Three years ago today, we decided we wanted to be parents and started trying right after our wedding. We were so hopeful that Christmas, and just KNEW we'd have a baby by the following Christmas. It feels like a million years ago now.
Two years ago, we knew something was wrong. It had been a year, and nothing. My family all knew we'd been trying, and I was so upset that we didn't have that baby we'd planned on the year before. I had an appointment with a new OB/GYN the next month in hopes that he'd do more to help us than the one I'd been seeing.
A year ago, we were headed for adoption - we even got some baby items for Christmas since we were planning the adoption. A year ago, I was preparing for a D&C after a period that just would not go away (8+ weeks)and praying I didn't have something terribly wrong with me and I'd need a hysterectomy. A year ago, my husband and I were both lamenting the fact that we were facing yet ANOTHER Christmas with no baby in sight. A year ago, I cried at any reading of the Christmas story or movie about the baby Jesus - I was THAT devastated.
This year, I'm sitting here dealing with the aches and pains of a twin pregnancy, we've got all the makings for a nursery upstairs (it just needs to be put together), we've got the beginnings of Kate and Natalie's wardrobes in the closet, and have already started collecting cases of diapers. It's real this time, not some abstract possibility - THEY'RE COMING.
I cannot even begin to describe how grateful, blessed, excited and overjoyed we truly are. It's been a very long road getting here, but knowing what I know now, it was worth every minute of it, and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. Do I wish it had been easier? Sure, but I also know that this journey has brought us together as a couple in ways nothing else could have, and that we'll be an even stronger family because of it.
So, for the first time in nearly 3 years, I'm going to ENJOY this Christmas, I'm going to laugh and enjoy my family and hug my niece and nephews just a little tighter this year knowing what a gift they truly are....and take a moment to wonder at the fact that their cousins will get to join in on the fun next year.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth!
Ok, ok, I KNOW it's been WAY too long. Things are going great with my pregnancy. We found out at our 9 week ultrasound that we are expecting identical twins. Then, found out today, that they're identical twin GIRLS!!!! We're so excited. My gut said girls, but I was afraid it was just wishful thinking. Maybe there is something to that whole "gut feeling" thing, after all. So, we've decided our little bladder kicker will be Natalie Elisabeth and the one up in my ribs is Kathryn (Kate) Rebekkah.
Things are going well. I'm finally over all that first trimester exhaustion and general feeling of yuckiness. I still tire easily, but not nearly as bad as it was earlier on. It's FINALLY sinking in that we're having TWO babies. We waited so long, and I think for the first several weeks, I was afraid to get too attached. I regret that I haven't let myself enjoy this pregnancy like I should have, but I think it's been self preservation - I couldn't let myself get TOO attached. It's finally feeling real now, though. I feel little kicks in my bladder (Natalie) and on my left side (Kate). I'm getting uncomfortable at night - both hips fall asleep regardless of which side I'm sleeping on, my arms fall asleep, I can't lay on my back or my stomach, and I now have to get a rolling start to get out bed. I'm loving every minute. :-)
I'll try my best to do better in documenting this second half of my pregnancy than I have on the first. :-)
Things are going well. I'm finally over all that first trimester exhaustion and general feeling of yuckiness. I still tire easily, but not nearly as bad as it was earlier on. It's FINALLY sinking in that we're having TWO babies. We waited so long, and I think for the first several weeks, I was afraid to get too attached. I regret that I haven't let myself enjoy this pregnancy like I should have, but I think it's been self preservation - I couldn't let myself get TOO attached. It's finally feeling real now, though. I feel little kicks in my bladder (Natalie) and on my left side (Kate). I'm getting uncomfortable at night - both hips fall asleep regardless of which side I'm sleeping on, my arms fall asleep, I can't lay on my back or my stomach, and I now have to get a rolling start to get out bed. I'm loving every minute. :-)
I'll try my best to do better in documenting this second half of my pregnancy than I have on the first. :-)
Thursday, September 13, 2007
It's been a while.....
Wow, can't believe it's been so long since I posted.
I'll officially be 8 weeks on Sunday - I still don't think it has hit me yet. I'm excited about the baby, but it just doesn't feel real, which is disappointing. I'm sure it'll feel more real as I progress and start showing and feeling the baby move around, but for now, I just feel very tired and a little "ookey" some days. No full on morning sickness yet, but I have had days where I didn't feel too good. And the hunger....oh, my Lord! It's true - when you're pregnant, you're not just hungry as in "I could eat" hungry - you're hungry as in, "if I don't get something to eat in the next 30 seconds, I'll rip your arm off and start gnawing on it" hungry. Luckily, when that feeling does hit, it doesn't take much to satisfy me. I have still not gained a pound, but the clothes are definitely not fitting the way they used to, so I have a feeling full on maternity wear is in my near future.
We've had two ultrasounds and everything looks perfect - I officially graduated from my RE last week, and get to meet my new OB on the 24th. I suspect he won't, but I'm really hoping he'll do an ultrasound so we can get another peek. I got really spoiled my all the attention at the RE, so I will probably drive this poor doctor crazy.
I'll officially be 8 weeks on Sunday - I still don't think it has hit me yet. I'm excited about the baby, but it just doesn't feel real, which is disappointing. I'm sure it'll feel more real as I progress and start showing and feeling the baby move around, but for now, I just feel very tired and a little "ookey" some days. No full on morning sickness yet, but I have had days where I didn't feel too good. And the hunger....oh, my Lord! It's true - when you're pregnant, you're not just hungry as in "I could eat" hungry - you're hungry as in, "if I don't get something to eat in the next 30 seconds, I'll rip your arm off and start gnawing on it" hungry. Luckily, when that feeling does hit, it doesn't take much to satisfy me. I have still not gained a pound, but the clothes are definitely not fitting the way they used to, so I have a feeling full on maternity wear is in my near future.
We've had two ultrasounds and everything looks perfect - I officially graduated from my RE last week, and get to meet my new OB on the 24th. I suspect he won't, but I'm really hoping he'll do an ultrasound so we can get another peek. I got really spoiled my all the attention at the RE, so I will probably drive this poor doctor crazy.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Lucky number 30!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That's right!
I'M PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We got the official news from my RE on Friday 8/17/07, and I still don't think it has hit me yet. It still doesn't seem real. I'm actually a bit disappointed in myself about my reaction. I expected to be bawling like a baby - I do that, I get it from my Mom.
I haven't shed a tear yet, which is REALLY not like me. I think part of me still doesn't believe it and the part that does is terrified that something will go wrong.
So, for all the details, I had a sneaking suspicion (or hopeful thinking) last Wednesday that I might be, so I woke up at like 5 am and took a test. I honestly thought it was negative, but decided to take one final look, and low and behold, there was a line!!! I had to go wake Kevin up to take a look and make sure I wasn't imagining it. He saw it too!!!! So, if I was crazy, so was he. :-)
I kept testing (twice a day, even) from then until my first beta on Friday 8/17, and the lines just got darker and darker (I have quite a collection now!).
Every time I go to the RE for my pregnancy tests, my sweet, sweet nurse, Carla, always asks in her perpetually hopeful voice, "Do you have anything you need to tell me?". And my answer is always and pitiful little "no". Well, sure enough on Friday, she asked again while she was pulling my records up on the computer. Along with Carla, we also had Nancy - the office manager, in the blood room helping with paperwork since Carla was the only nurse on duty that day. When she asked, I quietly said "I think so...". It was the BEST reaction ever!
Nancy's head whipped around and she mouthed (you have to remember we're in a fertility clinic, so we always have to be sensitive to the other patients who may have not received the news they were hoping for) "ARE YOU PREGNANT?!?!". All I could do was grin and nod. Carla actually cried. About that time Dr. Bates was walking down the hall and Nancy stuck her head out and gave him a "thumbs up", so then he comes in, grinning from ear to ear. He asked if I'd tested and home, and I sheepishly told him, I'd taken five (it's actually eight, but I didn't want him to think I was obsessed or anything). He laughed out loud and said "You could have stopped at 4". You have NO idea how much joy it brought me to see their reactions. I had started getting used to the idea, but for them, this was news. I realized then that they've got some tough jobs - they always have to present this hopeful and positive attitude and they're constantly delivering bad news, watching women cry, seeing them stressed to the max, and it's moments like that one when it all works, that they really get to see how much what they do day in and day out impacts the women (and men) they work with.
So, I've had two betas now...the first came in at 65, the second at 183, which is great. We were looking for the numbers to double and they almost tripled. I go in tomorrow for one final beta to make sure my hCG levels are still rising at the rate they should be. Carla said we'd do the first ultrasound at 6 weeks, so I'm hoping to get to see something next week. Everyone is already placing their bets as to whether we have one or two in there. In addition to the family history of twins, we KNOW we triggered two eggs, so there is a good possibility, though my gut says it's just one. I'll be shocked if there are two!
We've told immediate family and close friends (except for Kevin's parents, so if you know them, PLEASE don't say anything yet) and I expect to tell more people once I see the heartbeat, hopefully next week.
Kevin commented the other day that he didn't realize how great the strain of this struggle was until it was over. And he's right, I had NO idea I had that much weight on my shoulders.
Please keep us in your prayers that everything will continue to progress well. I have no reason to think it won't, but after taking 2 1/2 years to get here, I'm scared to DEATH that something will happen. I hope to breath easier with each milestone, so hopefully I won't drive everyone around me nuts.
I'M PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We got the official news from my RE on Friday 8/17/07, and I still don't think it has hit me yet. It still doesn't seem real. I'm actually a bit disappointed in myself about my reaction. I expected to be bawling like a baby - I do that, I get it from my Mom.
I haven't shed a tear yet, which is REALLY not like me. I think part of me still doesn't believe it and the part that does is terrified that something will go wrong.
So, for all the details, I had a sneaking suspicion (or hopeful thinking) last Wednesday that I might be, so I woke up at like 5 am and took a test. I honestly thought it was negative, but decided to take one final look, and low and behold, there was a line!!! I had to go wake Kevin up to take a look and make sure I wasn't imagining it. He saw it too!!!! So, if I was crazy, so was he. :-)
I kept testing (twice a day, even) from then until my first beta on Friday 8/17, and the lines just got darker and darker (I have quite a collection now!).
Every time I go to the RE for my pregnancy tests, my sweet, sweet nurse, Carla, always asks in her perpetually hopeful voice, "Do you have anything you need to tell me?". And my answer is always and pitiful little "no". Well, sure enough on Friday, she asked again while she was pulling my records up on the computer. Along with Carla, we also had Nancy - the office manager, in the blood room helping with paperwork since Carla was the only nurse on duty that day. When she asked, I quietly said "I think so...". It was the BEST reaction ever!
Nancy's head whipped around and she mouthed (you have to remember we're in a fertility clinic, so we always have to be sensitive to the other patients who may have not received the news they were hoping for) "ARE YOU PREGNANT?!?!". All I could do was grin and nod. Carla actually cried. About that time Dr. Bates was walking down the hall and Nancy stuck her head out and gave him a "thumbs up", so then he comes in, grinning from ear to ear. He asked if I'd tested and home, and I sheepishly told him, I'd taken five (it's actually eight, but I didn't want him to think I was obsessed or anything). He laughed out loud and said "You could have stopped at 4". You have NO idea how much joy it brought me to see their reactions. I had started getting used to the idea, but for them, this was news. I realized then that they've got some tough jobs - they always have to present this hopeful and positive attitude and they're constantly delivering bad news, watching women cry, seeing them stressed to the max, and it's moments like that one when it all works, that they really get to see how much what they do day in and day out impacts the women (and men) they work with.
So, I've had two betas now...the first came in at 65, the second at 183, which is great. We were looking for the numbers to double and they almost tripled. I go in tomorrow for one final beta to make sure my hCG levels are still rising at the rate they should be. Carla said we'd do the first ultrasound at 6 weeks, so I'm hoping to get to see something next week. Everyone is already placing their bets as to whether we have one or two in there. In addition to the family history of twins, we KNOW we triggered two eggs, so there is a good possibility, though my gut says it's just one. I'll be shocked if there are two!
We've told immediate family and close friends (except for Kevin's parents, so if you know them, PLEASE don't say anything yet) and I expect to tell more people once I see the heartbeat, hopefully next week.
Kevin commented the other day that he didn't realize how great the strain of this struggle was until it was over. And he's right, I had NO idea I had that much weight on my shoulders.
Please keep us in your prayers that everything will continue to progress well. I have no reason to think it won't, but after taking 2 1/2 years to get here, I'm scared to DEATH that something will happen. I hope to breath easier with each milestone, so hopefully I won't drive everyone around me nuts.
Monday, August 13, 2007
When God Gave Me Infertility.....
Another good one.....
What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility?
Couples experiencing infertility often receive well-meaning but extremely insensitive "advice." We can all list the most popular ones: "Just relax and you'll get pregnant," or "adopt and you'll get pregnant," of the most painful from those who think they've got the goods on God's plan, "Maybe God never meant for you to have children." The sheer audacity of making a statement like that never fails to amaze me.
These same people would never walk up to someone seeking treatment for cancer and say, "Maybe God never meant for you to live." However, because I am infertile, I'm supposed to get on with my life. It's hard to understand that people can not see infertility for what it is, a disease for which I have to seek treatment. What if Jonas Salk had said to the parents of polio victims, "Maybe God meant for thousands of our children to be cripples, live in an iron lung or die." What if he'd never tried to find a cure? Who could think for one minute that that was God's plan?
What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility?
I think he meant for my husband and I to grow closer, become stronger, love deeper. I think God meant for us to find the fortitude within ourselves to get up every time infertility knocks us down. I think God meant for our medical community to discover medicines, invent medical equipment, create procedures and protocols. I think God meant for us to find a cure for infertility.
No, God never meant for me not to have children. That's not my destiny; that's just a fork in the road I'm on. I've been placed on the road less traveled, and, like it or not, I'm a better person for it. Clearly, God meant for me to develop more compassion, deeper courage, and greater inner strength on this journey to resolution, and I haven't let him down.
Frankly, if the truth be known, I think God has singled me out for a special treatment. I think God meant for me to build a thirst for a child so strong and so deep that when that baby is finally placed in my arms, it will be the longest, coolest, most refreshing drink I've ever known.
While I would never choose infertility, I can not deny that a fertile woman could never know the joy that awaits me. Yes, one way or another, I will have a baby of my own. And the next time someone wants to offer me unsolicited advice I'll say, "Don't tell me what God meant when he handed me infertility. I already know."
_____________________________________________________________
Oh, how I could use a nice, long, cool drink right now.....
But, I realize God knows what he's doing. I haven't been forsaken or forgotten. I'm still learning through this process. I just pray that I'm on the downhill side of this lesson.....I'm tired, but I know that God won't give me more than I can handle, and that we'll get through this and come out better for it in the end.
What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility?
Couples experiencing infertility often receive well-meaning but extremely insensitive "advice." We can all list the most popular ones: "Just relax and you'll get pregnant," or "adopt and you'll get pregnant," of the most painful from those who think they've got the goods on God's plan, "Maybe God never meant for you to have children." The sheer audacity of making a statement like that never fails to amaze me.
These same people would never walk up to someone seeking treatment for cancer and say, "Maybe God never meant for you to live." However, because I am infertile, I'm supposed to get on with my life. It's hard to understand that people can not see infertility for what it is, a disease for which I have to seek treatment. What if Jonas Salk had said to the parents of polio victims, "Maybe God meant for thousands of our children to be cripples, live in an iron lung or die." What if he'd never tried to find a cure? Who could think for one minute that that was God's plan?
What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility?
I think he meant for my husband and I to grow closer, become stronger, love deeper. I think God meant for us to find the fortitude within ourselves to get up every time infertility knocks us down. I think God meant for our medical community to discover medicines, invent medical equipment, create procedures and protocols. I think God meant for us to find a cure for infertility.
No, God never meant for me not to have children. That's not my destiny; that's just a fork in the road I'm on. I've been placed on the road less traveled, and, like it or not, I'm a better person for it. Clearly, God meant for me to develop more compassion, deeper courage, and greater inner strength on this journey to resolution, and I haven't let him down.
Frankly, if the truth be known, I think God has singled me out for a special treatment. I think God meant for me to build a thirst for a child so strong and so deep that when that baby is finally placed in my arms, it will be the longest, coolest, most refreshing drink I've ever known.
While I would never choose infertility, I can not deny that a fertile woman could never know the joy that awaits me. Yes, one way or another, I will have a baby of my own. And the next time someone wants to offer me unsolicited advice I'll say, "Don't tell me what God meant when he handed me infertility. I already know."
_____________________________________________________________
Oh, how I could use a nice, long, cool drink right now.....
But, I realize God knows what he's doing. I haven't been forsaken or forgotten. I'm still learning through this process. I just pray that I'm on the downhill side of this lesson.....I'm tired, but I know that God won't give me more than I can handle, and that we'll get through this and come out better for it in the end.
About IF.....
I saw this many months ago, but came across it again.....it really hits the nail on the head....
Dear Family and Friends,
I want to share my feelings about infertility with you, because I want you to understand my struggle. I know that understanding infertility is difficult; there are times when it seems even I don't understand. This struggle has provoked intense and unfamiliar feelings in me and I fear that my reactions to these feelings might be misunderstood. I hope my ability to cope and your ability to understand will improve as I share my feelings with you. I want you to understand.
You may describe me this way: obsessed, moody, helpless, depressed, envious, too serious, obnoxious, aggressive, antagonistic, and cynical. These aren't very admirable traits; no wonder your understanding of my infertility is difficult. I prefer to describe me this way: confused, rushed and impatient, afraid, isolated and alone, guilty and ashamed, angry, sad and hopeless, and unsettled.
My infertility makes me feel confused. I always assumed I was fertile. I've spent years avoiding pregnancy and now it seems ironic that I can't conceive. I hope this will be a brief difficulty with a simple solution such as poor timing. I feel confused about whether I want to be pregnant or whether I want to be a parent. Surely if I try harder, try longer, try better and smarter, I will have a baby.
My infertility makes me feel rushed and impatient. I learned of my infertility only after I'd been trying to become pregnant for some time. My life-plan suddenly is behind schedule. I waited to become a parent and now I must wait again. I wait for medical appointments, wait for tests, wait for treatments, wait for other treatments, wait for my period not to come, wait for my partner not to be out of town and wait for pregnancy. At best, I have only twelve opportunities each year. How old will I be when I finish having my family?
My infertility makes me feel afraid. Infertility is full of unknowns, and I'm frightened because I need some definite answers. How long will this last? What if I'm never a parent? What humiliation must I endure? What pain must I suffer? Why do drugs I take to help me, make me feel worse? Why can't my body do the things that my mind wants it to do? Why do I hurt so much? I'm afraid of my feelings, afraid of my undependable body and afraid of my future.
My infertility makes me feel isolated and alone. Reminders of babies are everywhere. I must be the only one enduring this invisible curse. I stay away from others, because everything makes me hurt. No one knows how horrible is my pain. Even though I'm usually a clear thinker, I find myself being lured by superstitions and promises. I think I'm losing perspective. I feel so alone and I wonder if I'll survive this.
My infertility makes me feel guilty and ashamed. Frequently I forget that infertility is a medical problem and should be treated as one. Infertility destroys my self esteem and I feel like a failure. Why am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not worthy of a baby? Am I not a good sexual partner? Will my partner want to remain with me? Is this the end of my family lineage? Will my family be ashamed of me? It is easy to lose self-confidence and to feel ashamed.
My infertility makes me feel angry. Everything makes me angry, and I know much of my anger is misdirected. I'm angry at my body because it has betrayed me even though I've always taken care of it. I'm angry at my partner because we can't seem to feel the same about infertility at the same time. I want and need an advocate to help me. I'm angry at my family because they've always sheltered and protected me from terrible pain. My younger sibling is pregnant; my mother wants a family reunion to show off her grandchildren and my grandparents want to pass down family heirlooms. I'm angry at my medical caregivers, because it seems that they control my future. They humiliate me, inflict pain on me, pry into my privacy, patronize me, and sometimes forget who I am. How can I impress on them how important parenting is to me? I'm angry at my expenses; infertility treatment is extremely expensive. My financial resources may determine my family size. My insurance company isn't cooperative, and I must make so many sacrifices to pay the medical bills. I can't miss any more work, or I'll lose my job. I can't go to a specialist, because it means more travel time, more missed work, and greater expenses. Finally, I'm angry at everyone else. Everyone has opinions about my inability to become a parent. Everyone has easy solutions. Everyone seems to know too little and say too much.
My infertility makes me feel sad and hopeless. Infertility feels like I've lost my future, and no one knows of my sadness. I feel hopeless; infertility robs me of my energy. I've never cried so much nor so easily. I'm sad that my infertility places my marriage under so much strain. I'm sad that my infertility requires me to be so self-centered. I'm sad that I've ignored many friendships because this struggle hurts so much and demands so much energy. Friends with children prefer the company of other families with children. I'm surrounded by babies, pregnant women, playgrounds, baby showers, birth stories, kids' movies, birthday parties and much more. I feel so sad and hopeless. My infertility makes me feel unsettled. My life is on hold. Making decisions about my immediate and my long-term future seems impossible. I can't decide about education, career, purchasing a home, pursuing a hobby, getting a pet, vacations, business trips and houseguests. The more I struggle with my infertility, the less control I have. This struggle has no timetable; the treatments have no guarantees. The only sure things are that I need to be near my partner at fertile times and near my doctor at treatment times. Should I pursue adoption? Should I take expensive drugs? Should I pursue more specialized and costly medical intervention? It feels unsettling to have no clear, easy answers or guarantees.
Occasionally I feel my panic subside. I'm learning some helpful ways to cope; I'm now convinced I'm not crazy, and I believe I'll survive. I'm learning to listen to my body and to be assertive, not aggressive, about my needs. I'm realizing that good medical care and good emotional care are not necessarily found in the same place. I'm trying to be more than an infertile person gaining enthusiasm, joyfulness, and zest for life.
You can help me. I know you care about me and I know my infertility affects our relationship. My sadness causes you sadness; what hurts me, hurts you, too. I believe we can help each other through this sadness. Individually we both seem quite powerless, but together we can be stronger. Maybe some of these hints will help us to better understand infertility.
I need you to be a listener. Talking about my struggle helps me to make decisions. Let me know you are available for me. It's difficult for me to expose my private thoughts if you are rushed or have a deadline for the end of our conversation. Please don't tell me of all the worse things that have happened to others or how easily someone else's infertility was solved. Every case is individual. Please don't just give advice; instead, guide me with your questions. Assure me that you respect my confidences, and then be certain that you deserve my trust. While listening try to maintain an open mind. I need you to be supportive. Understand that my decisions aren't made casually,I've agonized over them. Remind me that you respect these decisions even if you disagree with them, because you know they are made carefully. Don't ask me, "Are you sure?" Repeatedly remind me that you love me no matter what. I need to hear it so badly. Let me know you understand that this is very hard work. Help me realize that I may need additional support from professional caregivers and appropriate organizations. Perhaps you can suggest resources. You might also need support for yourself, and I fear I'm unable to provide it for you; please don't expect me to do so. Help me to keep sight of my goal.
I need you to be comfortable with me, and then I also will feel more comfortable. Talking about infertility sometimes feels awkward. Are you worried you might say the wrong thing? Share those feelings with me. Ask me if I want to talk. Sometimes I will want to, and sometimes I won't, but it will remind me that you care.
I need you to be sensitive. Although I may joke about infertility to help myself cope, it doesn't seem as funny when others joke about it. Please don't tease me with remarks like, "You don't seem to know how to do it." Don't trivialize my struggle by saying, "I'd be glad to give you one of my kids." It's no comfort to hear empty reassurances like, "You'll be a parent by this time next year." Don't minimize my feelings with, "You shouldn't be so unhappy." For now, don't push me into uncomfortable situations like baby showers or family reunions. I already feel sad and guilty; please don't also make me feel guilty for disappointing you.
I need you to be honest with me. Let me know that you may need time to adjust to some of my decisions. I also needed adjustment time. If there are things you don't understand, say so. Please be gentle when you guide me to be realistic about things I can't change such as my age, some medical conditions, financial resources, and employment obligations. Don't hide information about others' pregnancies from me. Although such news makes me feel very sad, it feels worse when you leave me out.
I need you to be informed. Your advice and suggestions are only frustrating to me me if they aren't based on fact. Be well informed so you can educate others when they make remarks based on myths. Don't let anyone tell you that my infertility will be cured if I relax and adopt. Don't tell me this is God's will. Don't ask me to justify my need to parent. Don't criticize my course of action or my choice of physician even though I may do that myself. Reassure yourself that I am also searching for plenty of information which helps me make more knowledgeable decisions about my options.
I need you to be patient. Remember that working through infertility is a process. It takes time. There are no guarantees, no package deals, no complete kits, no one right answer, and no "quickie" choices. My needs change; my choices change. Yesterday I demanded privacy, but today I need you for strength. You have many feelings about infertility, and I do too. Please allow me to have anger, joy, sadness, and hope. Don't minimize or evaluate my feelings. Just allow me to have them, and give me time.
I need you to be strengthening by boosting my self esteem. My sense of worthlessness hampers my ability to take charge. My personal privacy has repeatedly been invaded. I've been subjected to postcoital exams, semen collection in waiting room bathrooms, and tests in rooms next to labor rooms. Enjoyable experiences with you such as a lunch date, a shopping trip, or a visit to a museum help me feel normal.
Encourage me to maintain my sense of humor; guide me to find joys. Celebrate with me my successes, even ones as small as making it through a medical appointment without crying. Remind me that I am more than an infertile person. Help me by sharing your strength.
Eventually I will be beyond the struggle of infertility. I know my infertility will never completely go away because it will change my life. I won't be able to return to the person I was before infertility, but I also will no longer be controlled by this struggle. I will leave the struggle behind me, and from that I will have improved my skills for empathy, patience, resilience, forgiveness, decision-making and self-assessment. I feel grateful that you are trying to ease my journey through this infertility struggle by giving me your understanding.
Dear Family and Friends,
I want to share my feelings about infertility with you, because I want you to understand my struggle. I know that understanding infertility is difficult; there are times when it seems even I don't understand. This struggle has provoked intense and unfamiliar feelings in me and I fear that my reactions to these feelings might be misunderstood. I hope my ability to cope and your ability to understand will improve as I share my feelings with you. I want you to understand.
You may describe me this way: obsessed, moody, helpless, depressed, envious, too serious, obnoxious, aggressive, antagonistic, and cynical. These aren't very admirable traits; no wonder your understanding of my infertility is difficult. I prefer to describe me this way: confused, rushed and impatient, afraid, isolated and alone, guilty and ashamed, angry, sad and hopeless, and unsettled.
My infertility makes me feel confused. I always assumed I was fertile. I've spent years avoiding pregnancy and now it seems ironic that I can't conceive. I hope this will be a brief difficulty with a simple solution such as poor timing. I feel confused about whether I want to be pregnant or whether I want to be a parent. Surely if I try harder, try longer, try better and smarter, I will have a baby.
My infertility makes me feel rushed and impatient. I learned of my infertility only after I'd been trying to become pregnant for some time. My life-plan suddenly is behind schedule. I waited to become a parent and now I must wait again. I wait for medical appointments, wait for tests, wait for treatments, wait for other treatments, wait for my period not to come, wait for my partner not to be out of town and wait for pregnancy. At best, I have only twelve opportunities each year. How old will I be when I finish having my family?
My infertility makes me feel afraid. Infertility is full of unknowns, and I'm frightened because I need some definite answers. How long will this last? What if I'm never a parent? What humiliation must I endure? What pain must I suffer? Why do drugs I take to help me, make me feel worse? Why can't my body do the things that my mind wants it to do? Why do I hurt so much? I'm afraid of my feelings, afraid of my undependable body and afraid of my future.
My infertility makes me feel isolated and alone. Reminders of babies are everywhere. I must be the only one enduring this invisible curse. I stay away from others, because everything makes me hurt. No one knows how horrible is my pain. Even though I'm usually a clear thinker, I find myself being lured by superstitions and promises. I think I'm losing perspective. I feel so alone and I wonder if I'll survive this.
My infertility makes me feel guilty and ashamed. Frequently I forget that infertility is a medical problem and should be treated as one. Infertility destroys my self esteem and I feel like a failure. Why am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not worthy of a baby? Am I not a good sexual partner? Will my partner want to remain with me? Is this the end of my family lineage? Will my family be ashamed of me? It is easy to lose self-confidence and to feel ashamed.
My infertility makes me feel angry. Everything makes me angry, and I know much of my anger is misdirected. I'm angry at my body because it has betrayed me even though I've always taken care of it. I'm angry at my partner because we can't seem to feel the same about infertility at the same time. I want and need an advocate to help me. I'm angry at my family because they've always sheltered and protected me from terrible pain. My younger sibling is pregnant; my mother wants a family reunion to show off her grandchildren and my grandparents want to pass down family heirlooms. I'm angry at my medical caregivers, because it seems that they control my future. They humiliate me, inflict pain on me, pry into my privacy, patronize me, and sometimes forget who I am. How can I impress on them how important parenting is to me? I'm angry at my expenses; infertility treatment is extremely expensive. My financial resources may determine my family size. My insurance company isn't cooperative, and I must make so many sacrifices to pay the medical bills. I can't miss any more work, or I'll lose my job. I can't go to a specialist, because it means more travel time, more missed work, and greater expenses. Finally, I'm angry at everyone else. Everyone has opinions about my inability to become a parent. Everyone has easy solutions. Everyone seems to know too little and say too much.
My infertility makes me feel sad and hopeless. Infertility feels like I've lost my future, and no one knows of my sadness. I feel hopeless; infertility robs me of my energy. I've never cried so much nor so easily. I'm sad that my infertility places my marriage under so much strain. I'm sad that my infertility requires me to be so self-centered. I'm sad that I've ignored many friendships because this struggle hurts so much and demands so much energy. Friends with children prefer the company of other families with children. I'm surrounded by babies, pregnant women, playgrounds, baby showers, birth stories, kids' movies, birthday parties and much more. I feel so sad and hopeless. My infertility makes me feel unsettled. My life is on hold. Making decisions about my immediate and my long-term future seems impossible. I can't decide about education, career, purchasing a home, pursuing a hobby, getting a pet, vacations, business trips and houseguests. The more I struggle with my infertility, the less control I have. This struggle has no timetable; the treatments have no guarantees. The only sure things are that I need to be near my partner at fertile times and near my doctor at treatment times. Should I pursue adoption? Should I take expensive drugs? Should I pursue more specialized and costly medical intervention? It feels unsettling to have no clear, easy answers or guarantees.
Occasionally I feel my panic subside. I'm learning some helpful ways to cope; I'm now convinced I'm not crazy, and I believe I'll survive. I'm learning to listen to my body and to be assertive, not aggressive, about my needs. I'm realizing that good medical care and good emotional care are not necessarily found in the same place. I'm trying to be more than an infertile person gaining enthusiasm, joyfulness, and zest for life.
You can help me. I know you care about me and I know my infertility affects our relationship. My sadness causes you sadness; what hurts me, hurts you, too. I believe we can help each other through this sadness. Individually we both seem quite powerless, but together we can be stronger. Maybe some of these hints will help us to better understand infertility.
I need you to be a listener. Talking about my struggle helps me to make decisions. Let me know you are available for me. It's difficult for me to expose my private thoughts if you are rushed or have a deadline for the end of our conversation. Please don't tell me of all the worse things that have happened to others or how easily someone else's infertility was solved. Every case is individual. Please don't just give advice; instead, guide me with your questions. Assure me that you respect my confidences, and then be certain that you deserve my trust. While listening try to maintain an open mind. I need you to be supportive. Understand that my decisions aren't made casually,I've agonized over them. Remind me that you respect these decisions even if you disagree with them, because you know they are made carefully. Don't ask me, "Are you sure?" Repeatedly remind me that you love me no matter what. I need to hear it so badly. Let me know you understand that this is very hard work. Help me realize that I may need additional support from professional caregivers and appropriate organizations. Perhaps you can suggest resources. You might also need support for yourself, and I fear I'm unable to provide it for you; please don't expect me to do so. Help me to keep sight of my goal.
I need you to be comfortable with me, and then I also will feel more comfortable. Talking about infertility sometimes feels awkward. Are you worried you might say the wrong thing? Share those feelings with me. Ask me if I want to talk. Sometimes I will want to, and sometimes I won't, but it will remind me that you care.
I need you to be sensitive. Although I may joke about infertility to help myself cope, it doesn't seem as funny when others joke about it. Please don't tease me with remarks like, "You don't seem to know how to do it." Don't trivialize my struggle by saying, "I'd be glad to give you one of my kids." It's no comfort to hear empty reassurances like, "You'll be a parent by this time next year." Don't minimize my feelings with, "You shouldn't be so unhappy." For now, don't push me into uncomfortable situations like baby showers or family reunions. I already feel sad and guilty; please don't also make me feel guilty for disappointing you.
I need you to be honest with me. Let me know that you may need time to adjust to some of my decisions. I also needed adjustment time. If there are things you don't understand, say so. Please be gentle when you guide me to be realistic about things I can't change such as my age, some medical conditions, financial resources, and employment obligations. Don't hide information about others' pregnancies from me. Although such news makes me feel very sad, it feels worse when you leave me out.
I need you to be informed. Your advice and suggestions are only frustrating to me me if they aren't based on fact. Be well informed so you can educate others when they make remarks based on myths. Don't let anyone tell you that my infertility will be cured if I relax and adopt. Don't tell me this is God's will. Don't ask me to justify my need to parent. Don't criticize my course of action or my choice of physician even though I may do that myself. Reassure yourself that I am also searching for plenty of information which helps me make more knowledgeable decisions about my options.
I need you to be patient. Remember that working through infertility is a process. It takes time. There are no guarantees, no package deals, no complete kits, no one right answer, and no "quickie" choices. My needs change; my choices change. Yesterday I demanded privacy, but today I need you for strength. You have many feelings about infertility, and I do too. Please allow me to have anger, joy, sadness, and hope. Don't minimize or evaluate my feelings. Just allow me to have them, and give me time.
I need you to be strengthening by boosting my self esteem. My sense of worthlessness hampers my ability to take charge. My personal privacy has repeatedly been invaded. I've been subjected to postcoital exams, semen collection in waiting room bathrooms, and tests in rooms next to labor rooms. Enjoyable experiences with you such as a lunch date, a shopping trip, or a visit to a museum help me feel normal.
Encourage me to maintain my sense of humor; guide me to find joys. Celebrate with me my successes, even ones as small as making it through a medical appointment without crying. Remind me that I am more than an infertile person. Help me by sharing your strength.
Eventually I will be beyond the struggle of infertility. I know my infertility will never completely go away because it will change my life. I won't be able to return to the person I was before infertility, but I also will no longer be controlled by this struggle. I will leave the struggle behind me, and from that I will have improved my skills for empathy, patience, resilience, forgiveness, decision-making and self-assessment. I feel grateful that you are trying to ease my journey through this infertility struggle by giving me your understanding.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
2 week wait....
I hate this wait.....two loooooong weeks to wait and see if we're successful again. It seems my entire life is lived in two week increments - two weeks waiting to ovulate and two weeks to see if I'm pregnant...lather, rinse, repeat.
I did the math today - once this cycle is complete (another week and a half) I will have spent SIXTY WEEKS of my life in the dreaded 2ww (120 weeks total TTC). That's 420 days. Sixty weeks of analyzing every little possible symptom hoping that this time I'm finally not imagining it, and that I'm really pregnant. I really can't believe it's been that long.
Here's hoping that we can stop at sixty.
I'd love to have that nice long 40 week wait. At least at the end of that one you get a baby instead of cramps, bloating and mood swings. :-)
I did the math today - once this cycle is complete (another week and a half) I will have spent SIXTY WEEKS of my life in the dreaded 2ww (120 weeks total TTC). That's 420 days. Sixty weeks of analyzing every little possible symptom hoping that this time I'm finally not imagining it, and that I'm really pregnant. I really can't believe it's been that long.
Here's hoping that we can stop at sixty.
I'd love to have that nice long 40 week wait. At least at the end of that one you get a baby instead of cramps, bloating and mood swings. :-)
Monday, August 6, 2007
But I was doing so well!!!!
Have I told you lately? No?
I HATE MY #@%& BODY!!!!
I really, really, really do.
I was doing so well.....had two nice follicles, got my trigger, everything was going so well....
Until my #@%& body decided to go completely nuts, that is. My uterus has evidently decided it's time for a "mini-period".
Seriously.
I called my nurse to let her know - she said not to worry, that this happens sometimes - often for no reason. Evidently some people have this happen when they ovulate and still go on to get pregnant that cycle, and to continue as Dr. Bates instructed with the prometrium, which would probably stop it.
Why does everything have to be so hard? Why can't I just get pregnant now? It's not like I haven't been patient, or haven't had to work for it, or aren't sure that I want it. I've put in my time....I've had more than my fair share of problems with this process. Why is it so easy for so many, and SOOOOOO hard for some of us? I miss not having to think about this stuff. I miss the days when I wasn't constantly afraid of everything I do and how it might affect my cycle.
I actually got stung THREE times by a hornet this weekend and was afraid to take anything for the pain or even Benadryl to avoid a possible allergic reaction, because I wasn't sure how it might impact ovulation. Seriously. (And no, I don't think I'm being silly - my nurse actually warned me not to take any Advil after my trigger shot if my arm hurt, because there are studies that indicate it may inhibit or delay ovulation, and if Advil will mess it up, something else might too.)
I'm constantly worrying and I'm tired.
* I worry about medications that I should or should not take.
* I worry about what I eat.
* I worry about if I am spotting or not spotting, and what the spotting might mean.
* I worry about my husband and how this all affects him.
* I worry about if we time intercourse correctly or not, or if we missed it again.
* I worry about my drug induced mood swings.
* I worry about who I offend or hurt when I get defensive or moody about all of this.
* I worry about who might announce a pregnancy next and how much it'll hurt if it's not me.
* I worry about how and when to announce my own pregnancy if it ever happens.
* I worry that I'll miscarry after all of this struggle to actually get pregnant.
* I worry that I won't have time to have all the kids Kevin and I wanted to have.
* I worry that I won't even get one.
* I worry that my parents won't be as young and active as they are now to enjoy my kids.
* I worry about my job.
* I worry about how we'll pay for treatment if we have to go too much further down this road.
* I worry about every tiny cramp or twinge, and what it means.
Worry is exhausting. If someone would like to take over for a day or two so I could get a break, that would be great. :-)
I HATE MY #@%& BODY!!!!
I really, really, really do.
I was doing so well.....had two nice follicles, got my trigger, everything was going so well....
Until my #@%& body decided to go completely nuts, that is. My uterus has evidently decided it's time for a "mini-period".
Seriously.
I called my nurse to let her know - she said not to worry, that this happens sometimes - often for no reason. Evidently some people have this happen when they ovulate and still go on to get pregnant that cycle, and to continue as Dr. Bates instructed with the prometrium, which would probably stop it.
Why does everything have to be so hard? Why can't I just get pregnant now? It's not like I haven't been patient, or haven't had to work for it, or aren't sure that I want it. I've put in my time....I've had more than my fair share of problems with this process. Why is it so easy for so many, and SOOOOOO hard for some of us? I miss not having to think about this stuff. I miss the days when I wasn't constantly afraid of everything I do and how it might affect my cycle.
I actually got stung THREE times by a hornet this weekend and was afraid to take anything for the pain or even Benadryl to avoid a possible allergic reaction, because I wasn't sure how it might impact ovulation. Seriously. (And no, I don't think I'm being silly - my nurse actually warned me not to take any Advil after my trigger shot if my arm hurt, because there are studies that indicate it may inhibit or delay ovulation, and if Advil will mess it up, something else might too.)
I'm constantly worrying and I'm tired.
* I worry about medications that I should or should not take.
* I worry about what I eat.
* I worry about if I am spotting or not spotting, and what the spotting might mean.
* I worry about my husband and how this all affects him.
* I worry about if we time intercourse correctly or not, or if we missed it again.
* I worry about my drug induced mood swings.
* I worry about who I offend or hurt when I get defensive or moody about all of this.
* I worry about who might announce a pregnancy next and how much it'll hurt if it's not me.
* I worry about how and when to announce my own pregnancy if it ever happens.
* I worry that I'll miscarry after all of this struggle to actually get pregnant.
* I worry that I won't have time to have all the kids Kevin and I wanted to have.
* I worry that I won't even get one.
* I worry that my parents won't be as young and active as they are now to enjoy my kids.
* I worry about my job.
* I worry about how we'll pay for treatment if we have to go too much further down this road.
* I worry about every tiny cramp or twinge, and what it means.
Worry is exhausting. If someone would like to take over for a day or two so I could get a break, that would be great. :-)
Friday, August 3, 2007
Triggered today!!!!
So, today was my CD 12 ultrasound to see how I responded to the Femara this cycle. This one is even better than last cycle. I had two beautiful follies - a 25 mm on the right and a 26 mm on the left.
Dr. Bates got so excited, he told the nurse to schedule me for an IUI tomorrow morning, until she reminded him that we're doing timed intercourse. He did offer me a trigger shot if I wanted it, so I went for it. He thought I'd ovulate probably tomorrow or Sunday, but with the trigger, we can just time it better, so I went for it.
I'm so excited - I really hope this is our cycle. Last month I only had 1 good follie and it was only 15mm when he checked, plus I was sick and taking tons of Advil (big no no, evidently there are studies out that show that Advil taken mid-cycle can cause problems with ovulation/implantation) during the middle of my cycle last month, so I really do hope that is why last month was a bust, but we'll see. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much, but it's hard.
I really do hope this month works out for us, I don't think Dr. Bates will want to do too many more cycles without moving on to IUI, and I'd just as soon spend that $$ getting a nursery ready, than still shelling out for monitoring.
Dr. Bates got so excited, he told the nurse to schedule me for an IUI tomorrow morning, until she reminded him that we're doing timed intercourse. He did offer me a trigger shot if I wanted it, so I went for it. He thought I'd ovulate probably tomorrow or Sunday, but with the trigger, we can just time it better, so I went for it.
I'm so excited - I really hope this is our cycle. Last month I only had 1 good follie and it was only 15mm when he checked, plus I was sick and taking tons of Advil (big no no, evidently there are studies out that show that Advil taken mid-cycle can cause problems with ovulation/implantation) during the middle of my cycle last month, so I really do hope that is why last month was a bust, but we'll see. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much, but it's hard.
I really do hope this month works out for us, I don't think Dr. Bates will want to do too many more cycles without moving on to IUI, and I'd just as soon spend that $$ getting a nursery ready, than still shelling out for monitoring.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
The fog has lifted...
That's right, those who have been avoiding me can come out of hiding now.
The mood swing is over. My husband must be so relieved. Poor guy, everything set me off for the last several days. I try hard not to take it out on others, but he can just tell I haven't been myself. Luckily, I can tell when I'm in a drug induced bad mood, and try to avoid people when it's at it's worst.
I go in Friday for another ultrasound to see how things are developing.
I'm also taking the afternoon off to go get a massage and a facial. I figure if I'm going to ovulate (hopefully!) this weekend, I may as well take some time to pamper myself and go into the weekend relaxed.
The mood swing is over. My husband must be so relieved. Poor guy, everything set me off for the last several days. I try hard not to take it out on others, but he can just tell I haven't been myself. Luckily, I can tell when I'm in a drug induced bad mood, and try to avoid people when it's at it's worst.
I go in Friday for another ultrasound to see how things are developing.
I'm also taking the afternoon off to go get a massage and a facial. I figure if I'm going to ovulate (hopefully!) this weekend, I may as well take some time to pamper myself and go into the weekend relaxed.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Insurance rant....
As many of you already know, very few states mandate that insurance companies offer coverage for infertility treatment, which is just ridiculous. Ours is one of them.
That makes me mad enough, but it just KILLS me that the insurance company will pay to DIAGNOSE the problem, but not to treat it. However, they WILL pay for Viagara, surgical sterilization, hormonal birth control and countless other things. How in the HELL do they justify that?!?! Our infertility is NOT a choice we made - it is not a lifestyle choice - there is something MEDICALLY wrong with me and they refuse to cover it, but will happily cover other things that are OPTIONAL like hormonal birth control.
**Disclaimer: I am not saying they shouldn't cover the items mentioned above, simply pointing out the ridiculously selective criteria for covering them. ***
Yes, yes, I know they cover it because it's likely MUCH cheaper to pay for a pack of birth control pills, than to pay for a hospital stay for a birth. But, there are other options for birth control - that are both inexpensive, and readily accessible to EVERYONE.
But, for my husband and I, who have dreamed of kids since before we were married and have built our lives upon the desire for children, who did everything the way we were supposed to, went to college, got decent jobs, work hard, have a home (which is WAY bigger than we need if we can't have children) - the insurance companies have decided they have no obligation to fix something that is wrong. Not just something we don't like, but something that is MEDICALLY WRONG.
They'd never tell a cancer patient "we'll pay to find out what is wrong with you, but once we find it, you're on your own". Or a person with a broken leg "we'll take the damaged leg off, but we can't pay to have the bone set and a cast until it heals".
Yet they have told me and millions of other couples out there "sorry - you're on your own". They basically said, we'll let you find out what's wrong, so you can see how easily it could be fixed, but we won't help you get there. Actually, it's worse than that. They actually say, we'll pay to diagnose until you take that first step in actually treating. Then, we won't even pay for further diagnosis. So, if what my doctor thinks is wrong (I believe he is correct, so hopefully this never comes up) isn't, we'll likely have a fight on our hands to get them to cover further testing to diagnose a potentially overlooked condition.
When I sit down and think of how much we pay for insurance, and how it pays for plenty of "unnecessary" treatments for others, but won't even give us SOMETHING toward fixing something that has already been diagnosed, I just get sick to my stomach.
I just today have read stories of a couple who have to take 2nd mortgages on their homes to pay for treatment, another couple who have exhausted all of their options for the money to continue and now have to walk away after getting SO close to realizing their dreams, and another couple who need further testing, but the insurance company will not pay because she's already been through a medicated cycle. It's so wrong....
Insurance companies suck too.....
That makes me mad enough, but it just KILLS me that the insurance company will pay to DIAGNOSE the problem, but not to treat it. However, they WILL pay for Viagara, surgical sterilization, hormonal birth control and countless other things. How in the HELL do they justify that?!?! Our infertility is NOT a choice we made - it is not a lifestyle choice - there is something MEDICALLY wrong with me and they refuse to cover it, but will happily cover other things that are OPTIONAL like hormonal birth control.
**Disclaimer: I am not saying they shouldn't cover the items mentioned above, simply pointing out the ridiculously selective criteria for covering them. ***
Yes, yes, I know they cover it because it's likely MUCH cheaper to pay for a pack of birth control pills, than to pay for a hospital stay for a birth. But, there are other options for birth control - that are both inexpensive, and readily accessible to EVERYONE.
But, for my husband and I, who have dreamed of kids since before we were married and have built our lives upon the desire for children, who did everything the way we were supposed to, went to college, got decent jobs, work hard, have a home (which is WAY bigger than we need if we can't have children) - the insurance companies have decided they have no obligation to fix something that is wrong. Not just something we don't like, but something that is MEDICALLY WRONG.
They'd never tell a cancer patient "we'll pay to find out what is wrong with you, but once we find it, you're on your own". Or a person with a broken leg "we'll take the damaged leg off, but we can't pay to have the bone set and a cast until it heals".
Yet they have told me and millions of other couples out there "sorry - you're on your own". They basically said, we'll let you find out what's wrong, so you can see how easily it could be fixed, but we won't help you get there. Actually, it's worse than that. They actually say, we'll pay to diagnose until you take that first step in actually treating. Then, we won't even pay for further diagnosis. So, if what my doctor thinks is wrong (I believe he is correct, so hopefully this never comes up) isn't, we'll likely have a fight on our hands to get them to cover further testing to diagnose a potentially overlooked condition.
When I sit down and think of how much we pay for insurance, and how it pays for plenty of "unnecessary" treatments for others, but won't even give us SOMETHING toward fixing something that has already been diagnosed, I just get sick to my stomach.
I just today have read stories of a couple who have to take 2nd mortgages on their homes to pay for treatment, another couple who have exhausted all of their options for the money to continue and now have to walk away after getting SO close to realizing their dreams, and another couple who need further testing, but the insurance company will not pay because she's already been through a medicated cycle. It's so wrong....
Insurance companies suck too.....
Saturday, July 28, 2007
I'm just a blogging machine tonight....
I know, I've posted a lot, but I saw this posted on The Nest earlier by "lovemy2boys" and it was just so good, I had to copy and post it. (I edited slightly to fit my situation, but I have to give her the credit).
The perfect comeback when someone tells those of us who are IF to "just relax":
I should say:
You know, I would try not to think about it, but - once I get over the utter devastation of actually getting my period, I have to call my RE to let him know that I started to see what the plan of action is.
It's usually starting some random medication on the third day of my cycle, so I have to count, "day one, day two, day three," okay - time to go in for a baseline u/s and start taking my meds for five days. After the fifth day, I start using my fertility monitor on a daily basis, so I can know when I get a peak reading. On or around the 13th day of my cycle, I go in for another ultrasound to check my follicles to make sure everything is developing okay. Oh yeah, I almost forgot - around day 12 or so, my husband and I have to be sure have sex whether we're in the mood or not - romantic, huh? Yes, it can become a chore, but we're paying so much for this cycle, we can't be slackers.
If I haven't gotten a peak reading within the few days my doctor said I should ovulate based on my last ultrasound, it's back to the doctor I go so he can take another peek and see what's going on - it's possible I'm just going to ovulate a little later than normal, or if I'm REALLY lucky, I get to get a shot that will force my body to do so. That's fun. Then, for 36 - 48 hours after the trigger, we have to have sex again. Then every day after that is filled with anxiety and hope that "it finally worked this time." So - as you can see, I don't quite have the luxury of "not thinking about it all the time."
PRICELESS.....though I don't know that I'd have the nerve to actually say it, it's nice to have it in the back of my mind.
The perfect comeback when someone tells those of us who are IF to "just relax":
I should say:
You know, I would try not to think about it, but - once I get over the utter devastation of actually getting my period, I have to call my RE to let him know that I started to see what the plan of action is.
It's usually starting some random medication on the third day of my cycle, so I have to count, "day one, day two, day three," okay - time to go in for a baseline u/s and start taking my meds for five days. After the fifth day, I start using my fertility monitor on a daily basis, so I can know when I get a peak reading. On or around the 13th day of my cycle, I go in for another ultrasound to check my follicles to make sure everything is developing okay. Oh yeah, I almost forgot - around day 12 or so, my husband and I have to be sure have sex whether we're in the mood or not - romantic, huh? Yes, it can become a chore, but we're paying so much for this cycle, we can't be slackers.
If I haven't gotten a peak reading within the few days my doctor said I should ovulate based on my last ultrasound, it's back to the doctor I go so he can take another peek and see what's going on - it's possible I'm just going to ovulate a little later than normal, or if I'm REALLY lucky, I get to get a shot that will force my body to do so. That's fun. Then, for 36 - 48 hours after the trigger, we have to have sex again. Then every day after that is filled with anxiety and hope that "it finally worked this time." So - as you can see, I don't quite have the luxury of "not thinking about it all the time."
PRICELESS.....though I don't know that I'd have the nerve to actually say it, it's nice to have it in the back of my mind.
A special kind of idiot....
I've always heard the expression that you have to do xxxx to be xxxx, but any idiot can become a parent, when discussing how silly it is to have to jump through hoops for some things and there are no real requirements for becoming a parent. I've even used it a few times before we experienced infertility.
I'm watching an episode of "Bringing Home Baby" that I DVR'ed and this couple takes the cake.
She just said "In the last two weeks, we've had a new car, our dogs had 8 puppies, we moved to a new house, we've gotten a lot of new furniture, and we have a new baby." Good for them, right?
WRONG....
1. Said new car is a freaking Cadillac Escalade - LOADED - leather seats, DVD players in the head rests, the works. Which, I would normally say to each his own, but NOT in light of point #2.
2. The idiots didn't buy a car seat for their new BABY, because "we knew if you didn't have one, the hospital would GIVE us one, and we figured it would be good enough". Seriously. This pathetic little car seat looks like the one I got for Christmas when I was about 7 for my freaking Cabbage Patch Kids. Seriously.
3. This isn't some complicated car seat with the latch and the base and all that stuff - it's ONE piece with a hole to thread the seatbelt through and this idiot can't figure out how to do it. He has to go BACK into the hospital to get a NURSE (who I'm certain has nothing better to do) to come install the damn thing.
4. He doesn't "do" diapers. PUH-LEASE..... I'm certain it's not anyone's favorite thing, but to just say "Sorry, babe, I don't 'do' diapers"?!?!
5. While the wife is downstairs entertaining all the family that come over, her HUSBAND is upstairs curled up in the bed with the new baby sleeping. Now, while I'm certain the first few days as a new dad are exhausting, I would certainly think he'd be watching out a bit more for his wife. Oh, excuse me - fiance.
6. Day 1 home, his fiance, has to explain to him WHY they can't just hop in the car at midnight anymore and go grab something to eat. Seriously?!? He then proceeds to try to guilt her into going and ASKS THE BABY if she wants to go get something to eat. At midnight. The first day home. With a new baby and a fiance who can barely stand up straight.
7. Next, he proceeds to take this baby who was just fed and is ready to sleep holds her up to a camera that appears to be mounted on the ceiling and proceeds to poke at her and try to move her mouth to make her look like she's talking. (Still on day 1 at home here, people!)
8. Day 2, he decides it's time to take the baby out for a walk. It's obviously hot. It's summer, her family is coming over to "hang out by the pool". He ignores what she says, tells her there's shade and no reason the baby can't hang out at the pool. When the mother says again, "I don't want her out on such a hot day", he says, I kid you not, "well, let's just let her [baby] decide".
This poor, poor child.
And yet, THESE people can have a baby. Probably on their first try or by accident. How does this happen???
Excuse me while my head explodes.
I'm watching an episode of "Bringing Home Baby" that I DVR'ed and this couple takes the cake.
She just said "In the last two weeks, we've had a new car, our dogs had 8 puppies, we moved to a new house, we've gotten a lot of new furniture, and we have a new baby." Good for them, right?
WRONG....
1. Said new car is a freaking Cadillac Escalade - LOADED - leather seats, DVD players in the head rests, the works. Which, I would normally say to each his own, but NOT in light of point #2.
2. The idiots didn't buy a car seat for their new BABY, because "we knew if you didn't have one, the hospital would GIVE us one, and we figured it would be good enough". Seriously. This pathetic little car seat looks like the one I got for Christmas when I was about 7 for my freaking Cabbage Patch Kids. Seriously.
3. This isn't some complicated car seat with the latch and the base and all that stuff - it's ONE piece with a hole to thread the seatbelt through and this idiot can't figure out how to do it. He has to go BACK into the hospital to get a NURSE (who I'm certain has nothing better to do) to come install the damn thing.
4. He doesn't "do" diapers. PUH-LEASE..... I'm certain it's not anyone's favorite thing, but to just say "Sorry, babe, I don't 'do' diapers"?!?!
5. While the wife is downstairs entertaining all the family that come over, her HUSBAND is upstairs curled up in the bed with the new baby sleeping. Now, while I'm certain the first few days as a new dad are exhausting, I would certainly think he'd be watching out a bit more for his wife. Oh, excuse me - fiance.
6. Day 1 home, his fiance, has to explain to him WHY they can't just hop in the car at midnight anymore and go grab something to eat. Seriously?!? He then proceeds to try to guilt her into going and ASKS THE BABY if she wants to go get something to eat. At midnight. The first day home. With a new baby and a fiance who can barely stand up straight.
7. Next, he proceeds to take this baby who was just fed and is ready to sleep holds her up to a camera that appears to be mounted on the ceiling and proceeds to poke at her and try to move her mouth to make her look like she's talking. (Still on day 1 at home here, people!)
8. Day 2, he decides it's time to take the baby out for a walk. It's obviously hot. It's summer, her family is coming over to "hang out by the pool". He ignores what she says, tells her there's shade and no reason the baby can't hang out at the pool. When the mother says again, "I don't want her out on such a hot day", he says, I kid you not, "well, let's just let her [baby] decide".
This poor, poor child.
And yet, THESE people can have a baby. Probably on their first try or by accident. How does this happen???
Excuse me while my head explodes.
Crappy Mood....
I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd say I was PMS-ing. But, I'm not.
Not sure what to attribute my crappy mood to - missing Kevin (he's away working), boredom, IF in general, the drugs?
I'm on Femara, which isn't SUPPOSED to have the mood swings often associated with Clomid, but it's odd that my mood has taken a steep nose dive right when I started taking it this month, so I'm guessing that is what it is. I didn't notice this last month, but who knows.
Yet another fun effect of IF.
IF Sucks.......
Not sure what to attribute my crappy mood to - missing Kevin (he's away working), boredom, IF in general, the drugs?
I'm on Femara, which isn't SUPPOSED to have the mood swings often associated with Clomid, but it's odd that my mood has taken a steep nose dive right when I started taking it this month, so I'm guessing that is what it is. I didn't notice this last month, but who knows.
Yet another fun effect of IF.
IF Sucks.......
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Sunrise
I heard this song today, and it was SOOO good. It's called Sunrise by Nichole Nordeman, and I must say that I couldn't help but think of our struggle with IF while listening. I think it's my new favorite song!!!
If I had the chance
To go back again
Take a different road, bear a lighter load
Tell an easy story
I would walk away
With my yesterdays
And I would not trade what is broken for beauty only
Every valley
Every bitter chill
Made me ready to climb back up the hill
And find that . . .
You are sunrise
You are blue skies
How would I know the morning
If I knew not midnight?
You’re my horizon
You’re the light of a new dawn
So thank You, thank You
That after the long night, You are sunrise
There’s a moment when
Faith caves in
There’s a time when every soul is certain God is gone
But every shadow is evidence of sun
And every tomorrow holds out hope for us
For every one of us
You are sunrise
You are blue skies
How would I know the morning
If I knew not midnight?
You’re my horizon
You’re the light of a new dawn
So thank You, thank You
That after the long night, You are sunrise
You alone will shine
You alone can resurrect this heart of mine
You are sunrise
You are blue skies
How would I know the morning
If I knew not midnight?
You’re my horizon
You’re the light of a new dawn
So thank You, thank You
That after the long night, You are sunrise
You are sunrise
New Cycle is a GO!!!
Whew! Dr. Bates gave me a bit of a scare today. I went in for my CD3 bloodwork and scans, and everything seemed normal until he looked at my right ovary and found a 17mm cyst.
Now, anyone who has been through IF knows that cysts are bad. Those pesky little things have the ability to make you sit on the sidelines waiting for them to go away. He warned me that if my bloodwork came back showing the cyst was producing hormones, that on the pill I'd go until it went away. I was panicked - I've come this far and now I might have to sit a month (or more) out?!?!
Well, this afternoon, my nurse called and said my bloodwork was just fine and Dr. Bates thinks the cyst is just from where I ovulated before and it should resolve itself, so I was given the go ahead to start my Femara again, and have an appointment to check what I hope will be a few BIG BEAUTIFUL follicles next Friday.
Keep all your fingers and toes crossed!!!!
Now, anyone who has been through IF knows that cysts are bad. Those pesky little things have the ability to make you sit on the sidelines waiting for them to go away. He warned me that if my bloodwork came back showing the cyst was producing hormones, that on the pill I'd go until it went away. I was panicked - I've come this far and now I might have to sit a month (or more) out?!?!
Well, this afternoon, my nurse called and said my bloodwork was just fine and Dr. Bates thinks the cyst is just from where I ovulated before and it should resolve itself, so I was given the go ahead to start my Femara again, and have an appointment to check what I hope will be a few BIG BEAUTIFUL follicles next Friday.
Keep all your fingers and toes crossed!!!!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Held a baby today.....
I held a baby today. It was WONDERFUL. I think I actually might have heard the angels singing in the background. Ok, maybe that's going a little too far....
I'd been avoiding it, but his mother came up to me at church today and asked if I'd like to hold him. Now, without giving too many details, I've had a real problem with this child's mother for many reasons over the years I've known her, and I've been especially upset over her pregnancy, due to things I won't mention here. I resisted at first, but then I caved. It was HEAVEN. He was warm, and sleepy, and soft and had that delicious baby smell. It also, surprisingly, helped me put my issues with his mother and some of her decisions to rest. It is not my place to judge her, or to resent what God has given her. He knows what He is doing, and who am I to say otherwise? I realized today, that I have a responsibility to love this woman and her child, and to look at their situation with compassion.
That said..... I. WANT. ONE. NOWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In some ways it was difficult - I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes as I held him, but luckily, I was able to hold back. Mostly, though, it was a reinforcement of what we're in this for. It so easy after 30 months to forget that in the end, God willing, we get a BABY. I think intellectually, I still knew that, but actually holding one in my arms actually gave me the little "boost" I needed to dive into another month of trying. It helped to reinforce why we're putting ourselves through this, and why we CANNOT give up. For just a tiny second, the ache in my heart subsided, and I was at peace. It's been such a long time since I felt that way. And I am thankful for that one small moment.
I cannot imagine, that if holding someone else's child brought that much peace, how amazing it will be when my arms are finally wrapped around my own child. I think my heart may just burst that day. I know that every mother loves her child more than they ever thought possible, but I cannot help but think that after this journey, I may just be a bit more head over heels than most.
Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. - 1 Corinthians 13:7
I'd been avoiding it, but his mother came up to me at church today and asked if I'd like to hold him. Now, without giving too many details, I've had a real problem with this child's mother for many reasons over the years I've known her, and I've been especially upset over her pregnancy, due to things I won't mention here. I resisted at first, but then I caved. It was HEAVEN. He was warm, and sleepy, and soft and had that delicious baby smell. It also, surprisingly, helped me put my issues with his mother and some of her decisions to rest. It is not my place to judge her, or to resent what God has given her. He knows what He is doing, and who am I to say otherwise? I realized today, that I have a responsibility to love this woman and her child, and to look at their situation with compassion.
That said..... I. WANT. ONE. NOWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In some ways it was difficult - I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes as I held him, but luckily, I was able to hold back. Mostly, though, it was a reinforcement of what we're in this for. It so easy after 30 months to forget that in the end, God willing, we get a BABY. I think intellectually, I still knew that, but actually holding one in my arms actually gave me the little "boost" I needed to dive into another month of trying. It helped to reinforce why we're putting ourselves through this, and why we CANNOT give up. For just a tiny second, the ache in my heart subsided, and I was at peace. It's been such a long time since I felt that way. And I am thankful for that one small moment.
I cannot imagine, that if holding someone else's child brought that much peace, how amazing it will be when my arms are finally wrapped around my own child. I think my heart may just burst that day. I know that every mother loves her child more than they ever thought possible, but I cannot help but think that after this journey, I may just be a bit more head over heels than most.
Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. - 1 Corinthians 13:7
Friday, July 20, 2007
On to cycle 30....
Got the test results - the confirmed what I already knew - this wasn't our cycle.
I need ice cream.....
I need ice cream.....
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Conflicted.....
Testing tomorrow. I dread it so much. I'm torn at the moment between moments of hopefulness and despair. I caved and took a HPT - it was negative. I don't expect happy news tomorrow from Dr. Bates, but then again, I keep telling myself this cycle isn't over until it's over.
Guess I'll know one way or the other tomorrow.
I'm at least prepared for the negative test result. At least we know the Femara works, so I have to remain optimistic going forward.... Dr. Bates still feels this treatment will do the trick.
I taught a lesson this week to my Acteens class about perspective, and how things we see as huge obstacles, God often sees as small issues, and that what seems a very long time to us, is actually quite short to Him. Somehow, that comforts me as I head back to Atlanta tomorrow for this blood test. Even if it is negative, we still have hope. Things could be MUCH worse. Much, much worse. Thankfully, Dr. Bates doesn't think we'll have to get super-invasive (never thought I'd call weekly blood tests, ultrasounds 2x a month, and reporting any and all news regarding my cycles "non-invasive", but when in "fertility land" it truly IS non invasive) and expects that this course of treatment will not only work for us, but he expects it to work in less than six months. Thankfully, we're not dealing with any male-factor issues that need to be addressed, no structural issues, and (knock on wood) no recurrent miscarriages. I just have lazy ovaries.
Yes, things could be MUCH worse, so I am choosing now to look on the bright side, to remain positive, and to continue hoping, even if things don't happen as quickly as I'd like.
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. - Romans 12:12
Guess I'll know one way or the other tomorrow.
I'm at least prepared for the negative test result. At least we know the Femara works, so I have to remain optimistic going forward.... Dr. Bates still feels this treatment will do the trick.
I taught a lesson this week to my Acteens class about perspective, and how things we see as huge obstacles, God often sees as small issues, and that what seems a very long time to us, is actually quite short to Him. Somehow, that comforts me as I head back to Atlanta tomorrow for this blood test. Even if it is negative, we still have hope. Things could be MUCH worse. Much, much worse. Thankfully, Dr. Bates doesn't think we'll have to get super-invasive (never thought I'd call weekly blood tests, ultrasounds 2x a month, and reporting any and all news regarding my cycles "non-invasive", but when in "fertility land" it truly IS non invasive) and expects that this course of treatment will not only work for us, but he expects it to work in less than six months. Thankfully, we're not dealing with any male-factor issues that need to be addressed, no structural issues, and (knock on wood) no recurrent miscarriages. I just have lazy ovaries.
Yes, things could be MUCH worse, so I am choosing now to look on the bright side, to remain positive, and to continue hoping, even if things don't happen as quickly as I'd like.
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. - Romans 12:12
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Oh, the horrors....
Infertility is really quite a humbling experience. I mean, it's bad enough that my body doesn't work like it's supposed to, and we've had to wait far longer than most couples to reach parenthood, not to mention the fact that it seems my doctor is now more familiar with our sex life than even my husband and I. I could go on and on....
But yesterday, it reached a whole new level - and it just struck me as funny. For those that know me - you know how easily I can be embarrassed. Well, humor is how I get through this - it may not come through in the post, but I'm going to give it my best shot. I promised myself when I started this blog that I would not hold back the details, so here it goes....
***Warning, TMI ahead - stop now if you are faint of heart or would rather not hear references to parts of the female anatomy****
Seriously.....
Ok, don't say I didn't warn you!
So, yesterday I had another EARLY appointment at my RE's office for yet ANOTHER blood test - hey, I should count my blessings, at least this one didn't include an ultrasound. I went in for them to check my progesterone (P4) level to confirm that the Femara they put me on did in fact work, and that I did ovulate. (Got at A in this department - I DID IT!!!!).
Yesterday afternoon, my nurse (Carla - the BEST nurse ever) called me to give me the results. I had stepped away from my cell phone for a quick meeting and missed her call, so she left everything on my voice mail. She said "I got your results back, and you did ovulate. So, since you mentioned spotting this morning, Dr. Bates wants you to start Progesterone supplements. I'll call the prescription in to your pharmacy and you need to pick it up tonight, you'll take it twice a day, in the morning and in the evening. You need to take it vaginally - the supplements look like peanut m&m's and you need to insert vaginally, as far as possible. Give me a call if you have any questions. You'll stay on this until your pregnancy test next Friday, and if positive you'll continue for 4 more weeks, if not, then you'll stop taking them and start your next cycle."
Ok, that was just about the oddest thing you'll ever hear on voice mail. I'm actually kind of glad she called when I couldn't take the call. In my office, people are in and out constantly - I couldn't imagine discussing this with her with people coming in and out.
Well, I leave to go home and stop by CVS on the way to pick up my "M&M pills". Of course, when I got there, it wasn't ready so I had to wait. I can see the pharmacists from where I sit while they're working and notice one of them call another over to ask her opinion on the prescription he was filling. They both discussed in low voices for a few minutes and kind of shrugged and went about their business. Turns out they were filling my prescription. So, they call my name that my prescription has been filled and I go up to the counter where the clerk is checking me out. I pay, and he says "as soon as the pharmacist comes over to talk with you, we can give you your prescription" - I've noticed lately that CVS is really cracking down on counseling when giving you a new prescription, and as many as I've had to fill lately, this is nothing new. So, I wait for him to come over and ask if I had any questions so he can give me my magical bottle of M&M's and I can be on my way. I've had this pharmacist fill my prescriptions before - he's super nice - a very grandfatherly type of guy. Well, he comes over, reads the prescription again, stutters a bit and then finally says "Can you read the directions on this and tell me if they make sense to YOU because they don't to me". So, I read, and the instructions say, "take vaginally twice a day as directed" I kind of look at him funny and say "Yeah, makes sense". Then, he says "Really? I asked everyone here and they'd never even HEARD of that, but as long as this is what your doctor told you, then ok."
I was so proud that I'm finally to the point that I don't even blush anymore. But that poor pharmacist - I bet his face glowed for the next hour, he was so embarrassed.
Kevin and I laughed all evening over this - it so nice that someone else got to be uncomfortable for once. :-)
But yesterday, it reached a whole new level - and it just struck me as funny. For those that know me - you know how easily I can be embarrassed. Well, humor is how I get through this - it may not come through in the post, but I'm going to give it my best shot. I promised myself when I started this blog that I would not hold back the details, so here it goes....
***Warning, TMI ahead - stop now if you are faint of heart or would rather not hear references to parts of the female anatomy****
Seriously.....
Ok, don't say I didn't warn you!
So, yesterday I had another EARLY appointment at my RE's office for yet ANOTHER blood test - hey, I should count my blessings, at least this one didn't include an ultrasound. I went in for them to check my progesterone (P4) level to confirm that the Femara they put me on did in fact work, and that I did ovulate. (Got at A in this department - I DID IT!!!!).
Yesterday afternoon, my nurse (Carla - the BEST nurse ever) called me to give me the results. I had stepped away from my cell phone for a quick meeting and missed her call, so she left everything on my voice mail. She said "I got your results back, and you did ovulate. So, since you mentioned spotting this morning, Dr. Bates wants you to start Progesterone supplements. I'll call the prescription in to your pharmacy and you need to pick it up tonight, you'll take it twice a day, in the morning and in the evening. You need to take it vaginally - the supplements look like peanut m&m's and you need to insert vaginally, as far as possible. Give me a call if you have any questions. You'll stay on this until your pregnancy test next Friday, and if positive you'll continue for 4 more weeks, if not, then you'll stop taking them and start your next cycle."
Ok, that was just about the oddest thing you'll ever hear on voice mail. I'm actually kind of glad she called when I couldn't take the call. In my office, people are in and out constantly - I couldn't imagine discussing this with her with people coming in and out.
Well, I leave to go home and stop by CVS on the way to pick up my "M&M pills". Of course, when I got there, it wasn't ready so I had to wait. I can see the pharmacists from where I sit while they're working and notice one of them call another over to ask her opinion on the prescription he was filling. They both discussed in low voices for a few minutes and kind of shrugged and went about their business. Turns out they were filling my prescription. So, they call my name that my prescription has been filled and I go up to the counter where the clerk is checking me out. I pay, and he says "as soon as the pharmacist comes over to talk with you, we can give you your prescription" - I've noticed lately that CVS is really cracking down on counseling when giving you a new prescription, and as many as I've had to fill lately, this is nothing new. So, I wait for him to come over and ask if I had any questions so he can give me my magical bottle of M&M's and I can be on my way. I've had this pharmacist fill my prescriptions before - he's super nice - a very grandfatherly type of guy. Well, he comes over, reads the prescription again, stutters a bit and then finally says "Can you read the directions on this and tell me if they make sense to YOU because they don't to me". So, I read, and the instructions say, "take vaginally twice a day as directed" I kind of look at him funny and say "Yeah, makes sense". Then, he says "Really? I asked everyone here and they'd never even HEARD of that, but as long as this is what your doctor told you, then ok."
I was so proud that I'm finally to the point that I don't even blush anymore. But that poor pharmacist - I bet his face glowed for the next hour, he was so embarrassed.
Kevin and I laughed all evening over this - it so nice that someone else got to be uncomfortable for once. :-)
Baby steps.....
Well, my Doctor confirmed ovulation yesterday, so that means that at least the Femara is working to make me ovulate. We'll still have to wait and see if this cycle was successful for another week or so, but I'm satisfied that at least we're making progress.....
So, even if we do hit that big 3-0, I'm ok with it - at least we're moving towards our goal. This is the first cycle in a LONG time that we've at least had reason to hope. As long as I'm ovulating, we'll try a few more cycles on our own before moving on to IUI.
So, even if we do hit that big 3-0, I'm ok with it - at least we're moving towards our goal. This is the first cycle in a LONG time that we've at least had reason to hope. As long as I'm ovulating, we'll try a few more cycles on our own before moving on to IUI.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
The Big 3-0....
I know what you're thinking....my birthday IS coming up....and it IS a big one. I always thought I'd dread turning 30. I don't feel 30....it seems like 21 was just last year. However, I don't dread it as much as I thought I would. You see, there is an even bigger anniversary coming....
30 cycles. T-H-I-R-T-Y. Three - zero. Had our first cycle worked (like we so naively thought it would) our first child would be almost two. We'd be working on our second by now. Hitting 30 cycles is bad enough, but it's scheduled to begin, you guessed it.....right around my thirtieth birthday. I always thought I'd be done having kids by the time I reached this milestone. Instead, we're still waiting to begin. By the time we get around to number two, I'll qualify as being of "advanced maternal age". How's that for depressing?
Hopefully, I'll never hit that big 3-0. I will gladly turn 30 years old with dignity if I can just skip the other 30. We started our first medicated cycle this month. We tried Femara (letrozole), which is actually a breast cancer drug, but has been shown to be beneficial for those who do not ovulate well. I'm a little concerned because I ovulated several days later than normal, but maybe that means it's working. My doctor doesn't seem concerned about that. They want me to come in at the end of next week for a hormone check and mentioned doing a pregnancy test the following week. (Can't believe I am writing that - after 29 cycles I've NEVER had a doctor want to do a pregnancy test.)
But still, I am hopeful. It's scary to get my hopes up, but I can't help it. I've really been struggling with this lately, but this week, I've really prayed a lot about it and it's really out of my hands. All I can do at this point is follow my doctor's orders and do my part and leave the rest in God's hands. I know deep down that He only wants the best for me and that Kevin and I are on this journey for a reason.
So....pass the cake with all the flaming candles on it and let's try not to set off the smoke detectors!
30 cycles. T-H-I-R-T-Y. Three - zero. Had our first cycle worked (like we so naively thought it would) our first child would be almost two. We'd be working on our second by now. Hitting 30 cycles is bad enough, but it's scheduled to begin, you guessed it.....right around my thirtieth birthday. I always thought I'd be done having kids by the time I reached this milestone. Instead, we're still waiting to begin. By the time we get around to number two, I'll qualify as being of "advanced maternal age". How's that for depressing?
Hopefully, I'll never hit that big 3-0. I will gladly turn 30 years old with dignity if I can just skip the other 30. We started our first medicated cycle this month. We tried Femara (letrozole), which is actually a breast cancer drug, but has been shown to be beneficial for those who do not ovulate well. I'm a little concerned because I ovulated several days later than normal, but maybe that means it's working. My doctor doesn't seem concerned about that. They want me to come in at the end of next week for a hormone check and mentioned doing a pregnancy test the following week. (Can't believe I am writing that - after 29 cycles I've NEVER had a doctor want to do a pregnancy test.)
But still, I am hopeful. It's scary to get my hopes up, but I can't help it. I've really been struggling with this lately, but this week, I've really prayed a lot about it and it's really out of my hands. All I can do at this point is follow my doctor's orders and do my part and leave the rest in God's hands. I know deep down that He only wants the best for me and that Kevin and I are on this journey for a reason.
So....pass the cake with all the flaming candles on it and let's try not to set off the smoke detectors!
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Lonely....
It's not fair....It shouldn't bother me so much.
I knew it was coming.....
Ok, so I'm bitter......terribly, terribly bitter.
Heard another birth announcement today. This one was at church. In the middle of the class I was teaching, and it was incredibly difficult to hear. I've known it was coming. I knew it was getting close.... but it still felt like someone hit me in the stomach.
I'm wallowing tonight. I'm so impatient. I've tried so hard to see the good through this wait, and my circumstances. But when something like this happens, it just makes me mad. Mad at myself - is it something I'm doing to make this take longer? Mad at my doctors - I've been to a few now...what if the first one had diagnosed me correctly 3 years ago? Would we even still be here? Mad at my finances....we're getting to the point that if this doesn't work soon, we'll be forced to decide between adoption and the hope of having a biological child. When you're talking $15 - $20 thousand dollars for one or the other (these are REAL numbers), most people can't do both.
Mostly, though, I'm lonely. Terribly so. I've never felt so alone in my life and I HATE it. No one seems to understand. Kevin tries, but he freely admits he just can't understand it. Some of my family tries, but they've never been through it. No one at church seems to get it - they (like some of my family) just ignore the elephant in the room. I long so much for someone who GETS IT. Who will let me talk about it without making me feel like I'm whining. Who won't try to "fix it" but will just listen and commiserate. Who won't tell me they're "sure it'll work soon". No one knows that.....no one can "fix it"....I just need someone who gets it and isn't uncomfortable about it and itching to change the subject.
I read a quote the other day that says "the problem with infertility is that I am mourning children that do not exist and I'm the only one who misses them." That just about sums it up. I'm continually mourning someone who doesn't exist....never has and may not ever. People don't seem to understand that. They can't understand how I can feel such an attachment and such a loss from something that doesn't exist, but I do. When someone loses a loved one, you often hear that they want to talk about that person...to remember them. Well, I do too....unfortunately it's not something most people can understand, and because they have never known this person (since they don't actually exist), they can't commiserate with me.
All that said...I heard this song by Ginny Owens on the way home from church tonight. While it has always been a song that speaks to me.....I heard it through my "infertility filter" tonight, and it took on a whole new meaning.....
The pathway is broken
And the signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason why you brought me here
But just because you love me the way that you do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
If you want me to
Chorus:
Cause I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise you're not through with me yet
So if all of these trials bring me closer to you
Then I will go through the fire
If you want me to
It may not be the way I would have chosen
When you lead me through a world thats not my home
But you never said it would be easy
You only said I'd never go alone
So when the whole world turns against me
And I'm all by myself
And I cant hear you answer my cries for help
I'll remember the suffering your love put you through
And I will go through the valley
If you want me to
I knew it was coming.....
Ok, so I'm bitter......terribly, terribly bitter.
Heard another birth announcement today. This one was at church. In the middle of the class I was teaching, and it was incredibly difficult to hear. I've known it was coming. I knew it was getting close.... but it still felt like someone hit me in the stomach.
I'm wallowing tonight. I'm so impatient. I've tried so hard to see the good through this wait, and my circumstances. But when something like this happens, it just makes me mad. Mad at myself - is it something I'm doing to make this take longer? Mad at my doctors - I've been to a few now...what if the first one had diagnosed me correctly 3 years ago? Would we even still be here? Mad at my finances....we're getting to the point that if this doesn't work soon, we'll be forced to decide between adoption and the hope of having a biological child. When you're talking $15 - $20 thousand dollars for one or the other (these are REAL numbers), most people can't do both.
Mostly, though, I'm lonely. Terribly so. I've never felt so alone in my life and I HATE it. No one seems to understand. Kevin tries, but he freely admits he just can't understand it. Some of my family tries, but they've never been through it. No one at church seems to get it - they (like some of my family) just ignore the elephant in the room. I long so much for someone who GETS IT. Who will let me talk about it without making me feel like I'm whining. Who won't try to "fix it" but will just listen and commiserate. Who won't tell me they're "sure it'll work soon". No one knows that.....no one can "fix it"....I just need someone who gets it and isn't uncomfortable about it and itching to change the subject.
I read a quote the other day that says "the problem with infertility is that I am mourning children that do not exist and I'm the only one who misses them." That just about sums it up. I'm continually mourning someone who doesn't exist....never has and may not ever. People don't seem to understand that. They can't understand how I can feel such an attachment and such a loss from something that doesn't exist, but I do. When someone loses a loved one, you often hear that they want to talk about that person...to remember them. Well, I do too....unfortunately it's not something most people can understand, and because they have never known this person (since they don't actually exist), they can't commiserate with me.
All that said...I heard this song by Ginny Owens on the way home from church tonight. While it has always been a song that speaks to me.....I heard it through my "infertility filter" tonight, and it took on a whole new meaning.....
The pathway is broken
And the signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason why you brought me here
But just because you love me the way that you do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
If you want me to
Chorus:
Cause I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise you're not through with me yet
So if all of these trials bring me closer to you
Then I will go through the fire
If you want me to
It may not be the way I would have chosen
When you lead me through a world thats not my home
But you never said it would be easy
You only said I'd never go alone
So when the whole world turns against me
And I'm all by myself
And I cant hear you answer my cries for help
I'll remember the suffering your love put you through
And I will go through the valley
If you want me to
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Waiting....
Waiting.....it's always been difficult for me.
Always.
I've never had much patience - I've always been the one to forge ahead, had to be first in line, first to do anything. It's been one of the hardest things about this journey through infertility.
I never dreamed when we decided to start our family shortly after our wedding in 2004, that we'd still be here 2 1/2 years later....never.
I came across the poem below on an infertility forum that that I frequent, Hannah's Prayer.
It brings tears to my eyes every time I read it. It describes my struggles so well. I get frustrated so easily by the wait, but I have seen that God is working during this wait, and while I may not like it, and want to cry and scream and get angry, I'm being refined. I'm learning to trust God through good times and bad. I'm learning that he is in charge, and He sees the full picture that I cannot, and may not ever know this side of heaven.
Kevin and I have learned so much about each other, and this struggle, while I can easily see how it tears marriages apart, has served to strengthen our marriage in ways we never dreamed possible. So, while I'd gladly end this journey tomorrow if I could, I cannot discount the impact it has had on our lives. We're not the same people we were when we started....and we can never go back. We've questioned, we've doubted, we've grieved....but, we're stronger for it. God has been faithful - He never promised an easy journey, only that He'd be with us every step of the way, and He has.
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate...
and the Master so gently said,"Wait."
"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!"
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.
My future and all to which I relate
hangs in the balance and you tell me to Wait?"
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign.
Or even a 'no,' to which I'll resign.
You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply.
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
as my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
and grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting...for what?"
He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine...
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of My love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.
You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
you'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
when darkness and silence are all you can see.
You'd never experience the fullness of love
when the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
The glow of My comfort late into the night,
the faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
You'd never know should your pain quickly flee,
what it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
but oh, the loss if I lost what I'm doing in you.
So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
that the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still "WAIT".
- Russell Kelfer
Always.
I've never had much patience - I've always been the one to forge ahead, had to be first in line, first to do anything. It's been one of the hardest things about this journey through infertility.
I never dreamed when we decided to start our family shortly after our wedding in 2004, that we'd still be here 2 1/2 years later....never.
I came across the poem below on an infertility forum that that I frequent, Hannah's Prayer.
It brings tears to my eyes every time I read it. It describes my struggles so well. I get frustrated so easily by the wait, but I have seen that God is working during this wait, and while I may not like it, and want to cry and scream and get angry, I'm being refined. I'm learning to trust God through good times and bad. I'm learning that he is in charge, and He sees the full picture that I cannot, and may not ever know this side of heaven.
Kevin and I have learned so much about each other, and this struggle, while I can easily see how it tears marriages apart, has served to strengthen our marriage in ways we never dreamed possible. So, while I'd gladly end this journey tomorrow if I could, I cannot discount the impact it has had on our lives. We're not the same people we were when we started....and we can never go back. We've questioned, we've doubted, we've grieved....but, we're stronger for it. God has been faithful - He never promised an easy journey, only that He'd be with us every step of the way, and He has.
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate...
and the Master so gently said,"Wait."
"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!"
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.
My future and all to which I relate
hangs in the balance and you tell me to Wait?"
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign.
Or even a 'no,' to which I'll resign.
You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply.
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
as my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
and grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting...for what?"
He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine...
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of My love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.
You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
you'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
when darkness and silence are all you can see.
You'd never experience the fullness of love
when the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
The glow of My comfort late into the night,
the faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
You'd never know should your pain quickly flee,
what it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
but oh, the loss if I lost what I'm doing in you.
So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
that the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still "WAIT".
- Russell Kelfer
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