Thursday, February 28, 2013

cycle day 19: empty ovaries.

This morning I was extremely lazy. At 6:45, I rolled out of bed, switched out pajamas for yoga pants and a t-shirt, brushed my teeth and rolled out the door by 6:50. Screw early morning showers. My evening showers are just fine these days. 

I'm always the bum of the waiting room BUT I'm also almost always first in line. Today I was first.

I drank the lovely doctor's office coffee and played around on my phone for just a few minutes before they took me back. I know the office staff by name, and they know me by name. I know about their kids, where they're from and their hobbies. Going to that office in the morning has become like going to a second home. 

I walked back to the sono room like I owned the joint. 

I stripped from the waste down. I had an "Oh shit!" moment... I forgot to wear funny/cute/weird socks. Every monitoring I wear an interesting pair of socks so when my feet are in the stirrups it adds a little cheer. The nurses like this.

Apparently those socks make a big difference.

When the dildo-cam (transvaginal ultrasound wand) got shoved up there with the always warned "cold and pressure", I saw empty ovaries. How did that happen? I told the nurse there were supposed to be 2 follicles in there. She pushed around a little longer to search for them. Nothing.

Apparently the 2 eggs we had seen had likely been cysts. 

I didn't really react. It was weird. Neither did Brian. We don't expect nearly as much as when we first started the IUI process. I'll never forget how devastated I felt when I didn't produce eggs at the beginning of the first round. Today, I didn't feel devastated. I've been here before. It sucks but it's not new. 

Afterwards, I went to yoga. It was awesome. I got chinese food with my mother in law, which was great. 

I came home and it hit me that Saturday, my next monitoring, is an important day. I'll be finding out if my baby could still be an IUI baby or if it will be an IVF baby. That's pretty major but in the most wonderful way. I find it amazing that I seem to be growing stronger rather than weaker. I'm growing fearless of things that once terrified me. I'm becoming the person I never thought I could. 

There is no guarantee in all of this that I will become a mother, and I know that. But if I do, I have finally become my favorite version of myself, someone my kid(s) could really look up to. I've become someone who finds the good in the bad and pulls herself up by the bootstraps. Someone who once again believes in the power of positive thinking and appreciating all she is given. 

Maybe that was what needed to happen before I could bring life into this world. 

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

luckiest infertile there ever was.

Last blog I vented. I was stressed out. I thought, "holy crap, I quit my job to focus on the fertility stuff, and my body is terrible at doing what it's supposed to be doing." My day actually took a turn for the worse when  got a call from the billing department at the clinic.

I was cleaning a sink full of dirty dishes, which had been kind of therapeutic. With soapy hands I picked up the call eager to get some answers about the financial aspect of IVF. Wow. I felt like someone sucker punched me. I felt like I should call my boss and ask for my job back and buy a dog instead of having a baby.

I started crying and didn't know what to do so I called Brian at work. I told him he wouldn't believe the prices and that I'd e-mail him what the billing lady was e-mailing me. I felt so bad listening to Brian's voice on the other end of the phone because it was the first time we had to talk about something we really couldn't afford. It would clear out our savings account, and we'd have to cash out our mutual funds, leaving very little money left over for the baby itself.

We'd been planning for this baby financially since getting married. We'd put away more money than anyone else around us. And now that was gone in my eyes. Not fair.

Well, my fears were put to ease later that day. My in-laws very generously offered to pick up our IVF tab should we go that route. It's beyond generous. I hope we don't have to do IVF (fingers crossed for this cycle) but it's pretty amazing to know that we financially could do IVF.

So this week I haven't blogged. I haven't needed to vent. I feel like the luckiest infertile there ever was. The biggest problem in my life is my inability to have a biological child, and I'm truly doing all I can at this point. And let's face it, there are a lot worse problems one could have.

After 1.5 weeks of not working, I have almost no stress, which is a vast change. I have no worries, no fears. I have felt a tremendous amount of love and support from family and friends. I hope more than anything that this process starts to work for us but now I realize even if it takes a while longer, my quitting my job was the right answer. I'm very blessed and lucky to be in the situation I'm in. Not many 27 year old women can afford to take time off work to focus on themselves. Not many people are lucky enough to have others lend a financial helping hand. Anytime I have a bad day, I have a slew of people I can call. I am so incredibly lucky.


Thursday, February 21, 2013

cycle day 12 monitoring


This morning was a disappointment but not really a huge surprise. There were no follicles worth noting. A woman basically has a bunch of follicles waiting to be "the one" each month. At cycle day 12, one has emerged as the dominant follicle because it is bigger than the rest. Lucky women could have mature follicle(s) at cycle day 12 but usually it's a few days after that the follicle is mature. 

Apparently none of my follicles are jumping at the chance to be "the one". This could change. One could grow. Or if it's like the 1st cycle they might need to give me more Clomid.

My current frustration is people telling me it will happen. So patronizing. 

I used to have trouble talking to mom about this stuff. To be fair, I told her the month we started trying so she's lent her ear much longer than anyone else, literally years. Now she's one of the best people to talk to. She told me yesterday that I've been trying really hard but I should keep doing whatever the doctors tell me too. She told me before we give up we should try IVF. But I love that when I mention adoption to her she doesn't get squeamish. 

Everyone else gets squeamish at the mention of adoption. I think people regard it as something it's not. They regard it as admitting defeat when really it's loving and nurturing a child that didn't come out of your vagina. That's pretty damn beautiful. If you have a kid, you have to love it. Your kid can be a royal screw up and you still have to love them because they grew inside of you. Adopting a child is loving a child purely because you want to nurture and raise a child. 

So I'm really going to start using this blog as an outlet to vent. An outlet to say what other's don't want to hear.

While today was not surprising, it was disappointing. It frustrates me. It upsets Brian. Our plan is to continue to do whatever the doctor's say to do this cycle. If it's to wait, we'll continue to be the world's most patient people and wait. But today, I'm working up the courage to ask the clinic how much they charge for IVF. As scared as I was to do IVF, if this round doesn't work, I think IVF is our plan. IVF will be more demanding and more risk is involved but I'm not working so I can go to as many appointments as needed. I think I'll have to learn to inject myself, which terrifies me. IVF is a longer process so it means I'll have to wait longer before we can take a vacation. I hope whether or not it works that I get to go to the beach this summer. 

That pretty much sums it up: frustrated, less scared of IVF, and hoping to go to the beach :)

Friday, February 15, 2013

9 months.

Last May I remember telling Brian, "Now that were starting Clomid, how wild is it that I'll be pregnant by our 3rd wedding anniversary?!" Imagine that being said in an adorably giddy voice and watch it be followed by the world's biggest bear hug.

Of course, we all know how that story ended, I didn't get pregnant. But the funny part? TWO of my girlfriends got pregnant that cycle. If I had gotten pregnant, we all would of been due within a week of one another. 

One of those friends gave birth to two beautiful twin girls at the end of January. The other is now past her due date. Apparently her babe is super cozy in the womb and wants to continue to hang out longer. Strong mama! 

Those 9 months flew by. I thought for sure if my pregnancy wasn't on the exact same schedule as theirs that I'd at least overlap. 

The weird part is I'm not at all sad writing this blog entry. 9 months ago I threw myself a little pity party. The "Everyone is pregnant except me!" kind. I was happy for my friends but I was sad that I wasn't getting to join in and be a bump buddy. I wanted it to finally be my turn, too.

Lately, I cry easily during movies or even sad episodes of 20/20. I chalk that up to the fact that I have all sorts of weird, lab-made hormones coursing through my body. But the strangest thing is I'm becoming very disconnected with this cycle. To be honest, I kind of keep forgetting that it's happening, and I keep forgetting that I could get pregnant. 

On my third round of Clomid last summer, I felt kind of "bored." It didn't work after 2 cycles so I became kind of disinterested. As odd as it sounds, the same thing is happening with the 3rd Clomid IUI. I'm happy we're doing it, don't get me wrong. I'm just more apathetic than overly invested. 

This is not to say I'm not hopeful but I'm not constantly thinking "X days of Clomid left" or "X days until the 1st monitoring appointment".  I feel no real need to countdown. No real need to think about how my body is feeling or what it is doing. 

I think this has to do with your brain protecting you. I think my brain says, "Hmmm... this hasn't worked yet so let's let her take a break from thinking about it constantly." Thank you, brain. I seriously need the break. And if you want me to kind of clock out until the whole pregnancy thing actually happens, that'd be pretty awesome! 




Sunday, February 10, 2013

cycle day 1

When I woke up today, I got my period, and I called the clinic first thing. The bitch is here, and she is sure to be exceptionally bitchy. Fertility drug periods are like periods on steroids. Luckily my husband knows this. He's making a grocery run this morning and smartly added overnight maxi pads and chocolate to the list. Good man.

I will get a call from one of the nurses confirming the schedule for this upcoming round but being a bit experienced with this, I think I already know the schedule. Thursday, Valentine's Day, I should start Clomid. The following Thursday, February 21st, I should have my first monitoring appointment.

I'll start stalking pinterest nursery ideas again. I seriously can't wait to decorate baby crane's nursery. I've only got like a million ideas! I'll look at gender reveal cakes and creative bump pictures. I've already decided that since there's a decent possibility this might be our only kid that I'm totally living it up.

I have no idea how every new shot I get insanely giddy at the idea of baking our little one. It usually happens around the time I finish Clomid and go to monitoring. Perhaps it helps me deal with the early morning probing and blood draws!

I hope more than anything that this one is the one. We've waited so long for this. We deserve it.

And after talking to the doctor last Friday about the possibility of doing IVF, I realized how much I don't want to need THAT much help. I want to have my baby the old fashioned way... you know the way where the doctor turkey bastes you with your husband's treated semen!

So I'm not saying, "third times the charm." I said that on the 3rd round of Clomid, and then it ended up being my least responsive dose. I'm going with the fact that this cycle is beginning on my amazing little sister's 26th birthday. That's the lucky sign I need.

Now bring on the ass-kicking cramps and the Clomid night sweats! Here we go!

Friday, February 8, 2013

my decision to quit my job.

There are two decisions in my life that are the best decisions I've ever made.

The first, and most important, was my decision to marry Brian. When I married him, it was the first time in my life I was 100% sure what I was doing was completely right. 

The second was to go back to school to become an esthetician. I am very proud of my college degree and grateful to my parents for making me earn it. I was certainly intelligent and capable of attending college but it never really felt like the exact right fit to me. When I decided to go back to school - to trade school - it all clicked. I loved trade school. I liked going to class and learning. I liked going to clinical and "working". 

When I got my first job as an esthetician, I knew it was the right decision. It came completely naturally to me to have close contact with people and form bonds with my clients. 

I am extremely good at my job. I have people who request to be treated by me. I have people who comment about how much they love me in their reviews of our spa. 

I take a lot of pride in what I do. I enjoy it. And I work very hard. 

December of last year, I continued to work hard, only I over estimated how much I could handle. 

I worked like a dog. Long shifts, no lunch breaks. Then I added in doctor's appointments. The most I had in one week was 5 appointments (including my IUI), which fell the week before Christmas. So my schedule was wake up at 6:30 am and leave for the doctor at 7 am. Get to the doctor for my ultrasound and blood work and get home close to 8:30. Take the dog out, pack my lunch and get ready for work. Get to work around 10:30 am, leave work between 7-7:30 pm. By the time I'd get home close to 8 o'clock, I was beat but I could never really stop. There were Christmas presents I had to buy, Christmas cards to write, and laundry I had to do. Early in December I spent time planning our Home Alone Christmas party. I tried to visit my friend Johanna in the hospital weekly. There was never a day we had nothing to do. And I was fine with that.

Brian kept telling me I was running myself ragged but I never really believed him.

Then in January, I broke down. I think my immune system did too because when I came into contact with a nasty cold, I caught it. As soon as I was done with that, I caught the flu. I realized that maybe I'm not superwoman.

Brian had been talking to me all January about quitting my job but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't forfeit. I brought up Brian's suggestion to my mom, and she thought it was a great idea. She said it would do me a world of good to take a break and focus on myself instead of work. But as sick as it is, work was like my drug. Even if I was terrible at getting pregnant, I was a damn good worker, and it gave me purpose. 

After flip flopping back and forth, one day I decided to bite the bullet and admit defeat. I put in my notice. My boss said it made no sense just to quit a job just because I go to a lot of doctor's appointments. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe I'm weaker than other women. But I'll never look back and think, "What if I had just taken it easier?"

I'm thankful daily to be in the situation I'm in. I'm very fortunate to financially be able to do this and to have a husband who is beyond supportive. 

To all the women out there who can juggle the weight of world on their shoulders, I tip my cap to you. I'm not one of you but I tip my cap to you. 


Thursday, February 7, 2013

occupancy two

Last night, the eve of my blood test, I had a dream where I was on an elevator. I'm not crazy about elevators in real life. In dream life I think they signal ups and downs.

It was a tiny elevator. The worst kind.

All these people kept filing on to the elevator. It was jam packed, way too over crowded. So I looked the the occupancy plaque that you normally see in elevators, and it stated, "Max Occupancy: 2".

I started screaming at all the other people on the elevator. "Get off this elevator! Can't you read?! It's says occupancy two! You all can't be here. It can't hold more than two. We won't make it if you all get on; we won't be able to breathe!" No one was listening to me. I wanted to start bawling.

I woke up thinking the dream was weird. Then on the way to taking the blood test, it clicked. I must have been screaming at myself. Yesterday was one of the first days I realized all of this might not work. It might be just Brian and I: occupancy two. I think my dream shows how torn I am over that fact.

There's a part of me that wants to keep fighting until we get our baby.

Then there's an even bigger part of me that's relieved that this will all be over soon, whether there's a baby or not. Yesterday I thought of all the positives of living a life just Brian and I. I've decided our lives would still be very full and lots of fun.

But when we got married I had a vision of Christmas 2059, we'd have all our children around the table and grandkids crawling all over us. It'd be a house bursting at the seams from all the love inside of it.

If we never have kids, we'll have boatloads of money and be able to take amazing vacations. I could start my own business doing make-up artistry or maybe even own a spa someday. We'd spoil the hell out of our nieces and nephews. We'd do winery dates on weekends and go to parties not worrying about getting a babysitter. It would be pretty awesome.

But I'd never have my baby wrap it's teeny fingers around my pinky. I'd never look down at him or her and wonder, "does our child look more like me or Brian?" I'd never get to go to their sports games, pick out a prom dress or clap like a crazy person during their graduation. I wouldn't get to help them write resumes or plan their wedding. I'd never get to watch my grandkids be welcomed into the world and watch them grow up, too.

I think my most amazing quality is my ability to see positive in negative. Not many people can do that. But it is also the hardest thing in the world to give up a dream you've had ever since you can remember.

We have done 3 rounds of Clomid and 2 round of Clomid IUI. Here's to hoping the 3rd cycle of Clomid IUI is THE one. Though I wrestle with my life plan, I still have faith in this process.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

12 dpiui

Another stick. Another negative. Unfortunately, this is not new to me in the slightest.

Brian asked me this morning if I think I've peed on 100 sticks during our trying to conceive journey, and I think I have.

The hard part for him this morning was coping with the "why" aspect. Why isn't anything working? Why? We're doing everything right.

I constantly remind myself that ours is not to reason why.

I've given up saying, "it's not fair". It's not fair but it never helps to dwell on that.

We have 48 more hours for things to turn around. If they don't turn around, we'll get positive and optimistic for a healthy, stress-free, successful next cycle.

Monday, February 4, 2013

11 dpiui.

Ours is not a story of sorrow. It's a love story. It's probably the most beautiful love story I know.

In November 2006, I met Brian. Shortly after, we fell in love. We got married in September 2009. And we had the biggest plans for a "perfect" life together. We had a vision: the house, the dog and the little cranes running wild. I'm pretty sure there might have been a white picket fence, too. 

Our plan contained the perfect ages to start the new stages. We had it figured out.

Then in September 2010, I found out I would likely have trouble getting pregnant. With this new information, we revised our life plan and began trying to conceive in November 2010. I started out not knowing much about how the whole process worked. I wasn't basal body temperature charting or using ovulation predictor kits. It wasn't how I wanted to conceive my child. 

Slowly, that mentality evolved; our methods became more scientific. I became a charter. I took Metformin and Provera.

In May of 2012, I took my first "big" step: I started taking Clomid. I took 3 rounds of the stuff and sadly, no luck.

I waited until November 2012 to seek the help of a fertility clinic to do fertility treatment.

Our first cycle of IUI was rocky to say the least. It seemed nothing that cycle was "typical" of a clomid IUI cycle.

Our 2nd cycle of IUI was completely different, a much less stressful experience. I responded to the 150 mg of Clomid I was prescribed, only had to go in for 3 monitoring appointments, and I grew a beautiful, perfect egg. I had a healthy, cycle day 18 IUI. 

Today I am 11 days past said IUI, and I decided it was okay to pee on a stick this morning. Big mistake. It was negative. But I have 3 more days until the doctor's blood test, so there's still time.

People tell me often that I have a good attitude. I've had nurses at the clinic tell me this. But the truth is, it's very hard. It's the hardest thing I've ever gone through in my life (granted, I've lived a pretty charmed life). And the reason I'm writing this blog is to help myself keep going. I've wanted to throw in the towel many times over the past couple years. But at this point in our struggle, I know the number of cycles we have left in us are numbered. I know whether we conceive or not, I won't do this for the rest of my life. 

So you're probably wondering, how in the world is my story a love story?

Through all of this I've had the most amazing man by my side. We can laugh through the uncomfortable probing and get giddy at every new chance we are given. We can cry to each other when everything is going horribly wrong. Every time he comforts me and picks me up, I know he'll make a terrific dad. We are surrounded by family and friends that have been of immense support to us. We've had prayers said for us and fingers crossed for us. Our story is one of overwhelming love. In fact, I don't think I really knew what love was until we went through this process. 

Most days I think, "I wish this were easier" or "I wish this was perfect." But every now and then I have a day where I realize that this experience has taught me about love and how it feels truly human to rely on the support of others. It has made me realize that perfection is overrated. My child will not enter this world solely as a product of the love my husband and I have for each other. It will enter this world as the product of many "tries", prayers, and hopes. I can't say he or she will be God's gift to this earth but I can say baby crane will be God's gift to my husband and I. 

So here's to a lucky next few days. Updates to follow soon.