"Tomorrow, Tomorrow..." I'm not sure how I feel about you...

Laparoscopy and hysteroscopy at 8:45 tomorrow morning.  I'm anxious.  Not about the surgery, not even so much about the recovery, but about what's in there.  Do I want them to find something so we have answers?  Do I want them to find nothing so I can go back into my denial bubble and think we don't have a problem?  But we do have a problem, so wouldn't it be nice to know what it is?  And if they don't find anything, have I just been a big baby about pain for the last... 15 years or so? 

There has to be something in there, right?  We failed that IVF in a fantastic manner.

A Lesson On Trips To The Pool

I wish I could figure out how to be happy and truly be satisfied with what I have right here and now.

We have an awesome neighborhood pool.  I will never again live in a development that doesn't have a pool because I love having a pool around so much.  The area is growing quickly and of course this means new, young families hanging out at the pool.  The pool opened last weekend, but it was rainy, so we were really psyched to hit it up this weekend.  Apparently, so was everyone else.

When we got there, we could not find a place to lounge.  All the lounge chairs were taken, many with just a folded towel sitting on them (Which pisses me off!  If you are planning to spend the whole time in the pool, please don't reserve 10 spots for yourself and all of your pals.).  We finally found a set of chairs by a table and figured we'd hang out there until we saw a couple of lounge chairs open up.  I hate sitting in regular chairs when I'm in a swim suit.  Especially when I'm still trying to get my post IVF pounds off.  You ladies know the deal.  A 45 degree angle is crucial.

I was looking down at my ginormous, white thighs and sat back to try and relax.  As I was getting comfortable, I noticed the sounds around me.  Giggling, nervous laughter, squeals, some tears.  I opened my eyes and right in front of me were a plethora of babies.  Little one's toes being dipped into the pool for the first time, eyes wide with worry.  Babies being tossed into the air by their daddies, with their little hats flopping around while their moms stood nearby ready to catch them in case dad missed.  Toddlers seated on mom's lap, squealing their way down the big slide.  Big sisters helping little brothers wade into the shallow end while they tiptoed tentatively under the bucket dump station.

I completely lost it.  I started to ugly cry right there at the pool.

We gathered our belongings as quickly as possible and started the trek home.  We got as far as the sidewalk outside the gate when I couldn't hold it back anymore.  J held me and I bawled and snotted all over his shirt.  I just said, "I'm sorry.  I couldn't do it.  All of those babies.  I'm sorry," over and over.  I felt swallowed by pain.  I knew people were staring, but I really didn't care.  I was mad at them.  Mad because their everyday state of being was happy.  Jealous that they didn't have to fight for their happiness.  I wanted them to be uncomfortable.  I wanted my pain to rub off on them in hopes that they would appreciate the many blessings they had.  It was rational, but it was what swept over me in a torrent.

On our walk home, I thought about my many blessings.  I thought about how much I prayed for J and how badly I wanted a good man in my life.  So much of my life has been spent wanting what I don't have.  An education, a job, a happy family, a husband.  I have most of those things now.  Why can't I be grateful for that?  I think J said it best.  We're still going through this.  We're still fighting and we aren't ready to stop.  So for today, I don't have to be okay with it.  I can still fight.  I can still be sad.

And next time we will get to the pool EARLY so we can have a guaranteed spot near the deep end.

Lap Date

Nothing at all like a lap dance.

Finally heard from my RE!  Lap will be happening on June 1st.  J and I decided that the long term risks of using Lupron were more likely to happen than any long term risks from the lap.  I didn't want to take it unless I knew I had to.  So, they will do the lap and the biopsy at the same time. 

I don't know if I want them to find something or not.  Scratch that.  I want them to find nothing, we do ICSI on the next cycle, we get an awesome fert rate, gorgeous embies that decide to stick around, a healthy take home baby, and a solution to all of life's problems. 

The End.

Crab-a-honas

Photo Credit

I'm a crab-a-honas.

I just feel... annoyed!  By EVERYTHING!  I don't know if it's because this is my first cycle med free in 6 months or if I've just hit the emotional wall, but I've HAD IT.  With everyone and everything. 

I'm tired of hearing about people's kids.  Seriously.  It's on my nerves.  I know that we infertiles get a lot of smack about this subject, but here's the thing - IT'S WEIRD!  I wouldn't sit with a bunch of people who are not audiologists and talk at them about psychoacoustics.  It's rude.  They can't join in the conversation.  Not to mention the fact that it's boring drivel and who the hell wants to talk about psychoacoustics?  So why are we, as people who do not have children, expected to sit and listen to people drone on constantly about every little thing their darling does? 

I'm tired of smiling and pretending that I give a crap.  I don't give a crap.  I can't join in on the conversation.  You just made me feel like a social pariah... again... because I can't try to top the dumb thing your kid said with the brilliant thing my kid said.  All I can do is paste on a smile when I'm really doing is dying inside just a little more.  Because this is 900th time that I've smiled and tried to be polite.  This is the 736th time that I thought about saying something and having a conversation about kids and felt like a total poser.  This is the millionth time I was reminded of what I need so deeply and can't have. I feel guilty for not wanting to talk about your kid, but why should I?  You don't want to hear about how well my dog ate her dinner, do you?  I didn't think so.  Do you feel bad about that?  I didn't think so.

I'm crabby and I'm not apologizing.

Oh yeah - I got ZERO phone calls yesterday.  I called the RE today and he didn't call back.  He called me first, for the love!  Christ on a cracker.

Torture

If you haven’t gone to give Belle and Pip some love, please do so stat.  She’s needing support right now in a major way.
******************************

I’m waiting for two phone calls right now.  Walking around with my phone lodged on my hip all day has not been a good time.

First I’m waiting to hear from my RE.  Why am I waiting to hear from my RE?  I have no idea.  He called yesterday afternoon and left a message saying that he would call me today so we can “get things moving.”  When I talked to him last week, he told me to think about our options and then schedule an appointment for a sit down so we can make decisions about where to go next.  He said we should take our time and ponder things, so that’s what we were doing.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m ready to get moving, but he made it sound like we needed to sit tight and not do anything rash.  So we were being nice little rashless infertiles and made an appointment for his first available slot, two weeks from today.  Then he left me this random message.  Still waiting.

The second is even more torturous.  I was subpoenaed for a DSS hearing.  I’m on “standby” to testify, meaning that I only have to go in if they call me.  I can’t think of a more appropriate torture for a woman who can’t have kids.  Testifying in family court.  That should be right up there with waterboarding.  

I have a whole plan, though.  If I get the call, I will hurry and rent a van for the trip.  When I get there, I will gather up all the children I can find while muttering, “I NO CAN HAZ BABIEZ” over and over.  I’ll put them in the van, and take them home.  Maybe I’ll tease my hair for the occasion.

What? Not a good plan?  Jail time would be involved?  Children don’t actually attend DSS hearings?  Alright.  Fine.  Scratch that.

Sigh.

May ICLW

Hello new friends!

Welcome to my corner of the internets.  I'm a midwesterner transplanted to the south, living with my Korean husband and one furry mutt.  You can catch up on our journey here, but the long and the short of it is 3 failed IUIs, and 1 failed IVF with super crummy fertilization.  We're waiting to have a sit down with the RE who wants to do a lap, or just assume I have a nasty case of endo and do a course of Lupron.  I think he's feeling this is more of an egg issue rather than a sperm issue since we did get lucky and have a few eggs fertilize last go around.  So, the husband, J, and I are still swallowing the IVF failure and working our way forward.

Have a look around, put your feet up, have some green tea.  I tend to write about all sorts of things that usually come right back around to infertility.

"Just Give Up and Adopt"

I was filling my mom in on all the recent RE drama.  She was, of course, quite distraught at the whole invasiveness of the next steps.  She kept talking about how proud she was of us and how strong we are.  I'm beginning to learn that.

Then she said, "You know, people keep asking me why you guys don't just give up and adopt, but I just think you have to exhaust all of your options."

By "people" she means my Midwestern, Tea Party leaning, old as dirt aunts and uncles I'm sure.  And probably a cousin or two.  It really bothers me to know that people are out there talking about us behind our backs.  They are judging the choices we are making without having one iota of what we are going through.  They sit among their swarms of grandchildren and judge.  We're Catholic.  The swarms are large.

I filled my mom in on my thoughts, which are by no means new to her, nor are they anything she disagrees with.  She's used to me spewing out my thoughts argumentatively even though she totally agrees with everything I'm saying.  I repeated that adoption is a choice and is by no means "giving up."  That there is no "just" about any of this.  That adoption isn't the responsibility of the infertile.  That we have insurance coverage for IF, but not money to adopt.  And then I told her what I've been afraid to tell her for months:

"If this doesn't work out.  We're leaning towards just not having any kids."
"That's okay, Lisa."
"We want a biological baby, just like everybody else wants."
"Of course you do.  Just be open to changing your mind."
"We are, but right now... I just couldn't forgive myself if I wasn't sure I did everything I could."
"I know."
"Mom, we don't want to raise someone else's baby.  We want to raise our baby."
"That's okay, Lisa."
"Sometimes I feel really guilty about that, because I know the whole world thinks adoption is what you're supposed to do when you can't have a baby on your own."
"There is no reason to feel guilty.  Even if it doesn't work out, look at your life!  Look at your husband!  You will be fulfilled.  Everything will be okay, no matter what, and you will still be a wonderful person.  Even without children you ARE a wonderful person."

I cannot tell you how badly I needed to hear that.

Every mother of every woman who cannot get pregnant on their own needs to tell her that they are wonderful.  IF makes you feel like a failure as a woman, as a wife, as a member of the world.  When your mother tells you that despite your inability to make babies you are still wonderful to her, everything feels better for a moment at least.  And when she is accepting of your "child free plan B"... well hot damn.

Jiminy Christmas

My RE called last night for an impromptu WTF.  I certainly don't mind the phone call vs office visit scenario.  He's kind of socially awkward and seems to do better on the phone.  Also, I'm down with the lack of copay for these phone calls.

He was so kind.  He genuinely seemed very surprised by our poor fertilization and negative beta.  He said we would definitely do ICSI, but that there was no guarantee that it would fix things for us.  He wants to do an endometrial biopsy, which seems to be pretty standard after a failed IVF, so while I'm certainly  not psyched about it, I will sign up for more cervical suction cups and catheters.

Then he started talking about the endo issue.  About 10 years ago, I had symptoms that led my then Gyno to suspect endometriosis. She put me on the pill and there I sat.  Truth be told, I had symptoms long before that, but I also had an asshat for an Gyno when I was young and naive who said "Yup, periods hurt."  He was a dude.  Surprised?  Anyway, they have never seen any evidence of endo on my ovaries, so they assumed that if it were endo, it couldn't be severe.  He said that there is a chance that I could have severe endo that just isn't on my ovaries, and while it would be rare, it could affect egg quality and fertilization rates.  He didn't come out and say it, but I think the fact that we had a few fertilize, ended up with a couple of embryos, and I didn't get pregnant leads him to think this is an egg issue and not some subtle sperm issue.

So he wants to do one of two things.  Either assume I have endo and put me on Lupron for 2 1/2 months or do a lap.  I was down for the lap right then and there.  For one thing, I need to know.  For another, I ain't takin' something as evil as Lupron without knowing if I really need it or not.  For a third, I have a big history of early onset osteoporosis in my family that includes my mother.  I do NOT need to encourage that shit and I certainly don't need to shrink for the love of all that is good and holy.  No Sally Field meds to be added to my cocktail, thank you very much.

He didn't want me to make any decisions yet.  He wanted us to sit on it for a bit and then come in and talk to him about all the pros and cons.  He's never seemed very psyched about the thought of a lap and hasn't come out and said why.  Before it was just that he thought IVF would circumvent the issue, but he doesn't have that to fall back on anymore.  He said any surgery was a big deal and the Lupron is a big deal too.  I send babies off to surgery on a daily basis so maybe that's why I'm a little desensitized to the whole surgery thing, I don't know.  He kept talking about how emotional this all is and that we just had a big blow.  While I appreciate the sentiment, all I kept thinking was that it was one of a million other nasty blows and we just want to keep chugging along.  He recommended seeing their therapist and I thought that was a good idea.  Lord knows I'm as anxious as all get out these days. 

The RE kept repeating, "The biggest predictor of outcome is age and you have that on your side."  I wanted to yell, "FOR HOW LONG!?"  I turned 34 a month ago.  The magic number will be here before I know it.  Every time we make a decision, another cycle goes by before we can act on it and another month is lost.

I just hate wasting time.  I feel like there will be an end to all of this at some point and I want to get there.  Whether that's end comes with a baby or not... I just want to know what's on the other side.  I want to stop hurting.  I want to see my husband enjoy 24 whole hours of happiness.  I want my life to revolve around something else.

If you've gotten this far, I appreciate it and apologize for your eye strain.  Got any advice?  To Lap or to Lup?

Negative

I just got the call that the test was negative.  Stop all meds and wait for my period.  I went ahead and POAS on Saturday, and I'm glad I did.  It helped soften the blow today.  It's strange.  I'm sad for the little embabies and so is J.  I know they were a tiny bunch of cells and I don't see them as people, but I do see them as living things that we created and now they're gone.  They didn't even have a chance to become people.

Part of me falls into the trap of "not meant to be."  I know that J and I would make good parents, but would we make a healthy baby?  If we can't get our sperm and eggs to play well together, is it wise to force it?  Are we tempting fate?  I know plenty of people have had crummy fertilization and have gone on to have healthy babies after ICSI, but we all know how it is when that little voice in your head starts talking to you.  And talking to you...  And talking to you...

I'm going to have some wine, and probably some ice cream, and try to buck it up tomorrow.

Peacin' Out This Week

I'm back from the conference... and gave a concert yesterday.

Whenever I'm presenting at a big conference like this one was, I get a bit of an emotional let down when it's over.  After a concert, I get an even bigger let down.  A conference and concert smack in the middle of a TWW from an IVF cycle is askin' for it.

I'm so happy for all the gazillion BFPs there have been this week.  Truly.  I really am so happy to see them.  On the flip side, my gut and my head both remind me that statistically, we can all have successful cycles.  I had a hormone check today and while my P4 is good, my E2 is low so I have to add in Estrace.  Swell.  What the hell is up with my body and estrogen?  Seriously?  And how many hormones can I jack in there at one time? 

I'm officially up 10 pounds since BCPs started.  I know they told us to expect that, but it messes with my head.  I bawled my eyes out today after I got off the scale.  I know that if this cycle is not successful I will need to wait until I get this weight off before having another go or else I will need a new wardrobe.  I've never written about this on my blog, but I lost around 50 pounds about 10 years ago.  As a short girl, I was solidly into the obese category and managed to squeak myself into the normal range.  10 pounds means back into the overweight side of things for me.

Anyway, I'm not in the happiest of places right now and need to just take a step back.  I'll update after my beta on the 14th (that seems so very far away).

Grace

Grace is one of those words I find to be elusive.  It's something you say before meals, mumbling and blubbering as quickly as you can so you can get to the eating.  To my mother, it's the ability to walk while balancing a book on your head and not to use the word "ute" when speaking of your womb (I'm such a disappointment!).  It's a way to address a king or an archbishop.  In music, it's a tiny little trill that I love to alight on.  Some of my friends who walk a more evangelical walk talk about "giving grace."  How the heck and I supposed to give it if I don't even know what it is?  Somehow I missed this one in my catechism.

Miriam Webster doesn't help me out much on this one.  Wikipedia only makes it more intriguing!  While Christians see grace as a gift, Hindus see it as something that one earns.  It sounds like a lovely thing that I'd like to be... or have... or give... but I don't know why or how since I'm not sure what it's all about.

What does grace mean to you?  Is it something you learn in ballet class?  How to you incorporate it in your life, or do you at all?

Amendment One

My blog, my thoughts.

In a few days, my state will vote on our first constitutional amendment.  Is it some beautiful piece of legislation granting rights to the people of North Carolina that didn't before exist?  Of course not!  It's a piece of bigotry, limiting the freedoms of individuals and pushing the religious views of others down our throats. 

It is, of course, an amendment to ban gay marriage.  At this point, we are the only southern state without one.  The proponents bill it as a way to "protect marriage."  Yes, the people of North Carolina, home to John Edwards, think that marriage needs to be protected by not letting members of the LBGT community play a part in it.  Because straight people are doing such a great job.

I live in a very progressive part of the state and there are signs EVERYWHERE that are encouraging people to vote against it.  But it's a big state.  A very rural state.  A very bible thumping state.  That makes this all the more frightening, because not only is this amendment disgusting and ridiculous, the way it is worded also attacks straight couples who live together without being married.  It's broad and poorly worded, putting things at risk like health insurance for children of unmarried couples and protections for abused spouses.  But people get so fueled by the gay marriage debate, that there is a real fear that people will blindly vote for it.

Listen, these are the things that I know are true.  Jesus said, "Love one another."  He said, "Judge not lest you be judged."  I know that love is a beautiful thing no matter where it is found.  I know that it is not my place to tell others how to live their lives.  I certainly don't want people telling me how to live mine.  I also know this: When our forefathers started this country, freedom of religion was a driving force.  Freedom of religion to me means not shoving your religious beliefs into a constitutional amendment.  The ads promoting this amendment are heavily Christian and Evangelical.  Nothing says "screw you founding fathers" like putting a bible front and center in a political ad touting an amendment.

And that's what I have to say about that.

Outie 5000

I'm off to a conference for a few days.  I'll be giving a talk on Saturday so say a little prayer that I don't trip or make references to Flavor Flav.  I actually did that in a professional talk once.  I think 3 people knew who I was talking about.  I've got a couple of posts lined up to publish while I'm gone... so I'm not blogging clandestinely in my hotel room while my co-workers are begging to use my laptop so they can Skype with their children.

My mom was asking me today about my POAS plans.  I'm not planning to do it.  I'm planning to stick with J's "Man-mandate."  In case you missed that one, it's when you wait until the for real and for true test day, in this case the beta, to avoid uncertainty and possible multiple sad days.  It's a "Man-mandate" because when he invented this gem, he was pulling his "man card" and demanding that I not test.  It was hilarious, what with the demanding and all.  My mom's response?  "Well, if you can wait, I can too."  Ummm, good thing, because it's not like she can fly down here and force me to pee on anything.  I share way too much with that woman.

On another note, anyone use Vivelle dots or any other sort of estrogen patches and have tips to share?  I canNOT get that dang adhesive off of my belly.  I've used rubbing alcohol and I've rubbed my skin raw in the shower.  Plus, my pants keep rubbing on the adhesive around the patches I'm wearing, making lovely fuzzy black marks all over the place.  I look like a dirty kid and I have to change these things to new places every 2 days!