Calling Off The Ember Alert!

Last Wednesday, I called and left a message at the old clinic about moving our embies to the new clinic.  See, at the old clinic you couldn't actually talk to a human unless you were making an appointment - you had to leave a message.  I left a message with the IVF nurse.  I didn't get a call back.

On Friday I went to call and leave another message, but it was after hours and they've now changed their system so that you can't leave a message after hours.  Ooookay.

Monday - I left another one.  Tuesday, I called the appointment line and begged to talk to whomever I needed to talk to.  These front desk people know who I am.  They know we've been through a shit ton of failed crap and had to look me in the eye every time I was in there.  They put me through to the head of embryology.  I had to leave a message.

When I woke up this morning I was pissed. I just woke up knowing that this shit was not going down anymore.  If I didn't get a call back, I was showing up on their doorstep.  I went to work and told my friend/coworker/cool-aunt-like figure about it.  She called her sister, the lawyer.  The sister said she'd write us up a letter if we wanted.  SCORE!  The message I left today went like this:

"This is Lisa ... again.  Short of calling every day or pursuing legal action, I don't know what to do anymore.  It's now  been 9 days since I first contacted the clinic in regards to moving my embryos to another facility and I have not even received the courtesy of a return phone call.  Please call me back immediately."

I heard back within 2 hours.  

I HATE being that girl.  I suck at being a bitch, but I was SHAKING by the time I called them today.  He had a bunch of excuses about everything going on over there (he was alluding to the turnover hell), but I didn't care.  Heck, he even said he got the message last Wednesday!  I can't imagine taking more than 24 hours to call one of my patients back, much less NINE EFFING DAYS!  It's medical karma as far as I'm concerned.  I always call my patients back right away, clinicians working with  me should do the same.  And for Pete's sake, it's our frozen future children!!!  I wasn't asking for a damned prescription or something.  They are the living creatures we made!!  Ugh, so angry.

So, embies' first road trip will be August 31st.  The clinic waiving the storage fee (a whole 3 weeks worth) since he screwed up.  How nice (sarcasm drips here).

My boss was fascinated by the whole thing.  I mean really, it is kind of weird.  We're picking up our frozen future children, loading them in our SUV, and bringing them to a new home where they will be thawed, transferred, and hopefully grow into one baby.  Boss lady was a little shocked that my friend's sister was going to help us lawyer up until I said, "Well, what the hell else are we supposed to do?  It's not like you can put out an Amber alert on embryos!"  Then she lost it.  She started laughing and said, "Would they call it an Ember alert?"

I don't mind the laughing.  It really is kind of funny if you let go and look at it as an outsider.  I love my coworkers.  I really do.

On Friendship and Infertility

I had recently forgotten some detail of treatment, but remembered that I had emailed my mom about it.  So I searched my email for "IVF" and of course hit the information jackpot!  So I shuffled through them as best as I could and ran across an email I had sent two girlfriends when we found out we had to move on to IVF.  An email that went completely unanswered.

Truthfully, it's been amazing to see the support we've gotten from unexpected places.  A friend back home from grade school has been a wonderful shoulder to lean on as has a cousin I'd lost touch with.  People who I always knew were in our corner have been nothing but amazing, and of course there is Farrah.  Two special friendships have essentially ended, though, and it breaks my heart.  I'm certain that when you deal with any life crisis you find your circle of friends shifting.  With infertility, it feels like a particular slap in the face when your girlfriends leave you stranded.

When I sent this email back in March, I thought I was letting two of my closest girlfriends know that I was about to embark on the most difficult ride of my life.  When they didn't respond, I thought I had done something wrong.  Did the words "transvaginal wand" offend them?  Did I not express enough interest in their lives and their children?  Was I being selfish?  I beat myself up about that for a long time and eventually just decided that for whatever reason, they didn't agree with my choices in family building, and while that made me sad, I just let it go.

Re-reading this email has given me a different view.  I was begging them for support and they completely ignored me.  I asked them to call me and tell me what was up in their lives so I could talk about something other than my infertility.  I told them I missed them.  I told them I was afraid of our friendships struggling and how afraid I was of being left out of life.  They didn't even answer the email.  I don't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't silence.  Even an "eff you" would have been better than silence.  They completely let me down, which I guess means that they weren't true friends to begin with.  When it comes down to it, J and I have been going through the most difficult thing(s) we have ever experienced and right in the middle of it, two women decided not to be our friends anymore.  It makes me angry and it makes me sad.

Even though I have many friendships that have been strengthened and new friendships discovered through infertility, why is it that the loss of these two friendships breaks my heart and overshadows the good?

How have your friendships changed while experiencing infertility?

One Foot In Front Of The Other

First, an apology.  I know I have been a piss poor commenter lately.  I haven't even been a great reader lately, I'll admit.  The wind has really been knocked out of my sails, and when I'm feeling hopeless, I work my ass off.  I bury myself in work.  I don't even know where I came up with the pile of work I made for myself this week, but I got a lot of crap done!  It feels good to accomplish something I guess.

But you don't want to hear about that, you want to hear about the new RE!!!  He is yet to be blog-named.  I'm working on it.  The man sat with us for an hour.  AN HOUR, PEOPLE!  That's 60 whole minutes in one sitting.  I don't think Dr. Plethora has spent 60 cumulative minutes with us in the year we've been seeing him... at least not while I was conscious.

The new doc went through my file with us step by step.  He laughed about how great it is to work with infertility patients because you can say, "What was your AMH?" or "What dose did you start your last cycle with?" and we can shout out a number without thinking.  He talked about what he would have done differently in the past and what he would do in the future.  He gave us a number of theories on why this cycle didn't work.  I really appreciated how he talked with us about the possible impacts endometriosis has on infertility and what could have happened in our last cycle.  He made it really easy to understand... well... he made the fact that we don't understand hardly anything about endo easy to understand.  But at any rate, it's obvious that the lap has helped with embryo quality and we want to make hay and keep riding the coat-tails of a recently gutted gut.  Here's what he would have done differently:

• Added LH to my stims.  Apparently there is some research to support this.
• ICSI on round one - even though it didn't look like we needed it.
• Added some HCG to my trigger.
• Cultured to blasts.
• Added some HCG to the culture medium at transfer.  Really cool to learn about.

The most exciting thing about our FET is that they are going to thaw the embies, culture them for two more days, and then transfer.  If any are left, they will refreeze them!  I didn't know you could refreeze!

So we're going to move our little kidsicles to the new clinic and do an FET.  I started BCPs today.  We have to take an FET class (Ugh!  Enough with the classes!  I'm pretty sure I've injected, ingested, and inserted it all!) and then we'll get our calendar.  I can't get in to do the class until the first week of September because of my patient load, but c'est la vie.  I'm tired of feel stressed about rushing to get things in so I'm not going to do it.


When we were leaving the new RE's office, he told us that he doesn't see any reason why I can't be pregnant and fully expects that I will be as long as we keep trying.  That was good to hear.  Then J looked up and noticed that one of his diplomas matches one of mine.  I don't know how I missed that we shared an Alma mater.  I was sold.


We met with the financial person, who was awesome.  She had already called our insurance company to verify benefits and what we had left on our limits.  She handles so much more for us than our old clinic did.  Knowing that I wouldn't have to haggle for pre-auths made me want to cry.  Then she walked us over to embryology to talk frozen embryo transport.  

I emailed the new RE to tell him we were planning to go ahead with the new cycle and he answered me in a matter of minutes.  I about fell over.  I couldn't even leave a message for the old RE directly!  We could only leave a message for the nurse and keep our fingers crossed.  Heck, I called about moving our embies on Wednesday and STILL haven't gotten a call back.  I feel like I'm in high school, trying to break up with a slacker boyfriend, and he won't even call me back so I can end it!

As soon as the old clinic calls me back (!^#*^#@$%$@), we're going to move the embies ourselves.  I'm that type-A.  I wonder if I can make an "Embryos on Board" sign to put on my car.  Maybe a stick figure family with embryos on it?

We're moving forward... one step at a time.

You Guys Are Amazing

Thank you all so very very much for the comments and the emails over the last few days.  I wanted to respond to each comment, but I was just so overwhelmed.  They were all full of such amazing advice and support.  I swear if it weren't for you guys, I would be in the looney bin.  I think my husband would too since I pass all the messages on to him.  You've all made us feel so much better about the direction we're going in. I wish none of us ever had to meet, but I'm so glad we did.

I spoke with my RE today.  He pretty much had nothing for us.  No idea why I didn't get pregnant, and the only suggestion was to transfer three embryos next time (eek!)  Now, I really do like my actual RE - just not the practice.  I appreciate a guy who will give it to me straight.  He told me, "I don't know why you aren't getting pregnant.  You got perfect embryos this time... and you aren't THAT old."  Some people would be offended by that - not me.  I finally got to tell him how much better my life has been since the lap and he said, "Well, I'm glad, but that's gunna go away and I hope you get pregnant before then."  Hurts to hear, but the man is right.  I told him we are getting another opinion and he was fine about it.  Even gave us two recommendations - one is the doctor we are planning to see.  He said, "If they have any suggestions, please let me know what they are!"  He also said if we decided to come back we certainly could.  And believe it or not, we have an appointment for tomorrow with the new guy already.  I'm not sure if I will be able to get all of my records from the clinic tomorrow (since the nurses don't friggin' call back!), but since I'm anal as all get-out and keep my own notes and copies of everything, the receptionist at the new place thinks we'll be okay.  The only thing I don't think I have enough info on is the op report from my lap.  I have the pathology report, but not the op report.

Anyway, we had a nasty storm here the other night.  When it was all over, we were greeted with the most amazing sight.  The sky between the clouds was bright purple and there was a gigantic double rainbow spanning the neighborhood.  All the neighbors were out gawking and shooting photos.  I, of course, grabbed my camera and tried to fit as much of it into a frame as I could!  So I'll leave you with these:  The calm after the storm.

Thanks again, y'all.  You are the greatest.

Pain and Decisions

Right now I'm full of anger, hinged with a tint of sadness. What the hell happened? We had so much hope. Everything went so much better this cycle, we didn't think it was possible to have another failure. It seemed like the lap "fixed" the root of the problem, but I suppose we were wrong on that. There's more to the story it seems. How can there be more? For shit's sake!

How did we get here? I always knew in the back of my mind that we wouldn't get pregnant right away. I thought it may take us awhile or we may need a pill, but I didn't think it would come to this! Three failed IUIs, surgery, and two failed IVFs. They had to force my husband's sperm in my eggs because it couldn't happen on its own. Our gametes couldn't play nicely together. The love of my life and my best friend. I feel like we've been robbed. Worst of all, I feel like I've stolen a chance at fatherhood from him. That eats at me like nothing else.

I told him before we even got engaged that I might have a hard time having children, but like I said, I didn't think it would be this difficult. He's meant to be a father. I know that we would be good at it, dammit! Not perfect by any means, but good. Whenever I see the pain in his eyes after another failed cycle, I feel a part of my heart fall out of my chest. He deserves so much more than what I can give him, and yet he still loves me. It's hard to feel deserving of that when my body keeps failing him.

I feel like I'm one of "those" people. The woman who can't get pregnant. What everyone fears and yet feels free to judge at the same time. "Give up and 'just' adopt." "Why do you keep doing that to your body?" "Maybe it just isn't meant to be." "I'm sure you can give all of your love to the children you work with." That last one came to my brother. I know he meant well, he's young, and he doesn't know what else to say, but if you could bitch slap someone through a text, I would have done that last night.

Yes, the snothead who leaves broken toys strewn all over my office, launches a block at me when I tell him "no," and somehow gives me ringworm in the 60 minute visit we have every 6 months is definitely benefiting from my childlessness.

We've decided to go to a different clinic. I know I can find a clinic that doesn't require me to leave a message for a nurse every time I call. I can see from reading everyone else's posts that there are clinics with accessible staff. The turnover is eating at me. I'm tired of being half naked on an examining table only for someone new to walk in and have a look at my lady parts. I'm sick of fellows and residents making decisions about my care all of the time. I hate that they only do three day transfers. I feel like we could get a lot of information by trying to culture a couple more days. The new clinic director used to run his own clinic - it bore his name. The stats at that place were abominable. 29% for women under 35. I wouldn't have stepped foot in that clinic and that dude isn't coming near my embryos again. Our transfer was full of tension because the old guy couldn't find where everything was. I can't shake the feeling that something went wrong that day. And you know what else? He put the speculum in and TWICE he let go of it when he was searching for buttons on the ultrasound machine. That effing hurts! The nurse actually made a little gasp and looked up at me the first time he let go.

Yes it's right across the street from my office, yes they had great stats in the past, yes I've bonded with some of the staff, and yes they are a big name, but my gut is telling me to run. J and I agreed in the beginning of this journey to go by the rule of threes. We did the three inseminations and we've now completed two fresh cycles. We intend to do a frozen, but if we need to do another fresh and it doesn't work out, we don't want to look back and wonder if we should have gotten another opinion. It's time for fresh eyes.

Which brings me to my questions. Have any of you ever had to move frozen embryos to another clinic in the area? How did that work? We're likely going to end up in a clinic 30 minutes from our current one. J is really anxious about this part. So is my mother for that matter. I'm pretty sure there is a solution. People must do this all of the time. We're pretty set on a clinic, but if you have any recommendations in the Triangle area I'd love to hear them. My final question is how to tell your clinic you're transferring care and how best to make sure all of your records get transferred. I'm one of those idiots who doesn't like to hurt feelings. I know - get over it. I don't mind when my patients get a second opinion, but they are usually passive aggressive about it and just end up disappearing. I'm going to have to say something and I don't know what to say!

No Big Suprise

Negative.

I'll write more later, but right now I'm going to go either throw things or clean things.  I can't decide.

11dp3dt

POAS this morning (used a FRER).  Figured it was safe since many girls seem to have betas at this time.  It was stark white.  We aren't feeling hopeful anymore.  My beta is Friday.

Bootylicious

Last night, I caught a glimpse of my large, dimply hiney in the mirror as I was getting out of the shower. 

It was not pretty, friends.

All I could think of is how I bend over and bear it every night without a thought while my husband oh so carefully gives me my PIO shot.  He has never said, "Eww."  He has never said, "Lay off the Cheetos."  In fact, he makes sure to spend special attention giving the site a rub down so that I don't end up in pain.  The man is amazing.  If his butt looked like my butt, I don't know if I would be so kind.

So to all the partners who silently and carefully jam a 1.5 inch needle full of oil into our bloated, barren, beastly booties each night with nary a mention of a dimple, I salute you.  If you follow it up with a rump rub down, I salute you with two hands... unless I'm using one of them to shove food into my face in a progesterone induced binge.