Because It Still Won't Be Over

There's a baby coming, which still blows my mind and it so beyond awesome I just can't handle it.  I'm still infertile.  My lady parts still need attention and I have to think about what I'm going to do about all that after our little Hapa Chippy arrives.

Now that I have an actual endo diagnosis, I intend to treat that bitch and not be in pain.  I'm breaking up with narcotics and I'm going to have a damn sex life again.  I am not going to be in pain or afraid of sex.  I'm not.  It's just not an option.  The problem is that treatment means that I won't be ovulating... which means there would be no hope of a surprise pregnancy.

Yes my friends, denial is still alive and well in my head.

We had crap fertilization with traditional IVF, top grade embryos have been known to be less than pleased about the prospect of implanting in my ute, and three months of menopause seems to be necessary to get me knocked up.  Yet, here's that little voice in my head still nagging, "but what if?"  I really do feel like I've come to terms with things.  I'm really okay with having an only child.  I'm really okay with my diagnosis.  I really am happy with my life.  So, WTF?  It all seems so silly.  We do have an embie on ice, but our RE didn't really have a lot of hope for it.  It isn't even from our successful cycle, it's the only extra from the FET and it almost didn't pass the freeze standards.  Our plan is to quietly do a transfer one day and just get closure.  So why on earth is that little voice upset that I have to not ovulate in order to avoid pain and enjoy sex?  I'm okay with not having another baby.  Right?

Then there's the prospect of where to go.  The world is not burgeoning with endo experts.  I haven't even talked with my OB about it, because as much as I like my practice, I sure don't see them as endo experts.  Mine does not seem to be a typical case and I'd really like to see someone who knows what they are doing, can look at MY case, and tell me what the best plan of action would be.  I don't want to just be handed a pack of BCPs and shoved out the door.  It was over 10 years ago that someone told me I probably had endo and not a single doc told me that I should take the active pills consecutively and not have a period until I ended up at an RE's office.  Not one.  I honestly think they didn't know.

My husband keeps reminding me that we still have that pesky cervical dysplasia thing to deal with too.  I keep forgetting about it.   Really, I do.  It seems so common that I think more run-of-the-mill gynes are able to deal with that than they are able to deal with endo.  Besides, I plan to ask my OB to stick a loofa on the Chipmunk's head once she gets to about 0 station so she can scrub that nasty shit off.  That'll totally work, right?

I really just wish I could hug my baby and ignore my ute for the rest of my life.  I've had enough of her drama.

An Open Letter

To All The Parents Who've Spotted My Belly,

It's the first question you ask when you recognize my bump as a something more than just too many cookies.  "Is this your first?"  Such a loaded question.

Yes, it's my first pregnancy.  I'm so blessed.  So many women having babies after loss must have a much harder time with this question than I do.  Still, it's a tough question to answer.

My first child?  Well yes, kind of.  She's my only, she's a culmination of years of struggle and pain, she's a gift, she's my everything.

How do I make you understand that without letting you into my private world?  I'm pregnant, but I'm infertile.  I know this may be an oxymoron to you.  Just by virtue of having a disease, I feel like I need to educate you and show you how hurtful your off-handed comments can be.  I know you mean well, and I'm not offended by your question, but it still stings.  Asking if she's my first is expecting that there will be more and my baby collection is just starting.  I know I can't make you understand that this is it for us.  If I tell you she's our only, you'll ask why.  If I tell you how lucky we were to get this one, you'll tell me about your cousin's best friend's sister's hairdresser who got pregnant naturally after IVF.  It's great that you have hope for a miracle, but my husband and I have accepted this life we've been given.  When you insist that other children will come, you're suggesting that what we have isn't good enough.  It's more than good enough for us.  It's wonderful.

I don't want to tell you that my eggs can't be fertilized without having a doctor inject them with a chosen sperm.  I don't want to tell you that my embryos need help to hatch.  I don't want to tell you that my body has to go through three months of menopause before my lining is receptive to implantation.  I don't want to tell you that I have to be on birth control despite my infertility just to avoid constant pain.  I don't want to tell you because I'm tired of telling you.  I've been sticking up for my limping womb for years and I need a break.  I just want to look forward to being a mom.  A mom to one amazing little gift.

So just smile and say that she's our first while I listen to your war stories on birth and parenting, but I wish you really knew.  She's so much more than a first.

MUST EAT ALL THE THINGS!!!!

Before I started Lupron I was trying to figure out where all of this insane weight gain people talked about came from.  One does not gain 50 lbs of water weight in 3 months.  All of these women are out there on the internets talking about the magic weight gain from Lupron.  They swear they stuck to healthy diets, blah, blah, blah.

Those chicks are totally lying.

I swear to you people, I feel like I am STARVING 24 hours a day.  There is not satiating me.  My husband just came over to kiss me goodnight and I told him he'd better book it upstairs before I eat him. 

This SUCKS!!

I am sticking to the diet, though, dammit!  I plan out what I will eat that day and that is IT!  I remind my stupid brain that if it really feels the need for more sustenance, there is one hell of a stockpile on my thighs just waiting to be raided.

Alright, off to bed before I eat my chair.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

We were really anxious about our WTF appointment today. We were so worried that he’d say, “We have no idea why you aren’t pregnant, but if you just keep trying I’m sure it will eventually work. “  That would not be something we were looking forward to hearing.  We want to look towards the end of this roller coaster.  If there’s nothing else to try, we want to know it.  None of this, “just keep trying” hanging over our heads for the rest of our lives.

Dr. Awesome started off by saying that he was really disappointed and that their whole team felt confident that they’d found a solution for us in our FET cycle.  He said he went back over my records to see if there was anything that could have been missed and he couldn’t come up with anything.  I ovulate.  My FSH is a little high, but my AMH and AFC are great and I respond really well.   My tubes are open.  My uterus looks healthy on hysteroscopy.  I don’t have any adhesions or scar tissue in my pelvis.  I’m relatively young in infertility land.

I brought up everything I could think of.  I’m sure I sounded like a babbling idiot.  I mentioned the auto-immune response I had from LASIK.  I brought up the really bad (I mean really bad) mono that resulted in hepatitis when I was 15.  I asked if my well controlled B12 deficiency could be at play.  The nice doctor humored the crazy lady.

The fact of the matter is, the only thing we know I have is endometriosis.

He thinks I’m one of the small subset of women with endo that is affected on a cellular level and my egg quality is suffering from it.  This would explain our poor fertilization and need for ICSI as well.  So what he wants to do is a 3 month Lupron course to put any endo that may be lingering into a dormant state.  We’d then go straight into a fresh IVF cycle.  That way, none of the eggs I would make in the fresh cycle would have ever been exposed to any endo.  Oh, and no “add-back” therapy as long as I can stand it.  My husband has decided that since I will be in “menopause” he should be entitled to a mid-life crisis.  I think not.

We’ll also be adding some LH in with stims as well to see if that helps.

This is where I opened my big mouth.  I asked if there should be any supplements I should be taking or diet changes I should make while we have 3 months to work with.  Time to bring up the elephant in the room!  When we started this road, I was just inside the normal weight range.  After 3 IUIs, 2 IVFs, 1 FET and a lap I am smack in the middle of overweight land.  So Dr. Awesome recommended getting myself back down to a BMI under 25.  Being a man, he thought this should be no problem!

So I have 3 months to lose 17 pounds.  While on Lupron.  During the holidays.  Might as well put me in handcuffs, light me on fire, and charge admission while you’re at it, doc!  But I will do it, dammit.  You know why?  Because this is our last shot and weight is the only thing I can control in this mess.  If this fails, I don’t want to look back and wonder if losing weight would have made the difference.  So I will go back to my nutritionist’s totally depressing eating plan.  I will get my ass on the treadmill.  I will do all the meal prep and planning ahead needed to get though the next three months, including the holidays.

Bring on the salads.

Why My New RE Is Awesome

A nurse called yesterday to give us the results and told us to schedule a WTF.  Later that morning I was with a patient and saw my phone light up with the clinic's number.  Dang it!  About 30 minutes later my husband's face appeared on my phone.  Double dang it!  He never calls my cell at work because he knows I keep my ringer off (I have a fear that I will turn on a kid's implant for the first time right when my phone rings and my ringer will become the first sound they hear).  As soon as my kiddo left I called J back.

He said that Dr. Awesome called him after he couldn't get in touch with me and sounded almost upset when relaying his reaction to our negative beta.  He was really hopeful that we would have a positive since everything went so well in the lab.  He thought the addition of HCG to the medium and the additions of Medrol and baby asprin to the regimen would do the trick.  Dr. Awesome didn't have any brilliant ideas right off the bat, but he promised to comb through the records from the old clinic, look at the cycle sheets from round 1 and round 2 and see if there is anything he would do differently.  He couldn't promise that there was since I stimmed so well both times and made seemingly good embies on round two, three of which cultured to blast for our FET.  J pointed out that 6 embies have now been transferred, 4 of which were certified as dang good, so could there be an implantation issue?  Dr. Awesome was honest in reporting that we don't really know and probably never will.  My ute looked good on hysteroscopy and we treated the questionable endometritis aggressively.  There's also still a question of embryo "goodness."  As we all know, looking good under the microscope doesn't really mean much in the end.

I can appreciate that so much of what happens with implantation is crazy complex.  Hearing is the same way.  Believe it or not, there is a lot we don't know about the function of the ear and most of the time I can't tell a family why their child is deaf.  It's just too complicated to know.  Too many genes involved, cells, vasculature, ion exchanges, mechanical and chemical reactions.  I'm sure implantation is a similarly complex.  It's just so frustrating to not have answers and to not have something to "fix."  We've tested negative for MFI, clotting disorders, PCOS, thyroid issues, STDs, tubal issues, parvo... wait, that was the dog.

I'm really grateful that he called, and even more grateful that J and I are open enough with each other that he was able to ask all the questions I would have been able to come up with in such a state.  I'm glad that Dr. Awesome is honest with us and that he's willing to dig around to see if there is anything he can do for us.  In the meantime, I'll wait for our WTF and gather my thoughts.  If he can't think of something new to try, we probably won't do another fresh.  If he can, we probably will after the new year.  I'm nervous about taking a few months off because I know that our biggest benefit right now is riding the wings of a recent lap.  I also know that that magic 35th birthday is looming oh so closely.  I just don't want to attempt an IVF cycle over the holidays, we're plumb out of dough, and I need to get some weight off.  Until then, I'm going to be healthy and try to turn my body into something I can at least tolerate for the time being.  I'll work on actually liking it when this is all over, I suppose.

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!

Laparoscopy and Marriage Intervention

Sex and infertility are hard.  We all know this.  We all know it's complicated.  When you have endometriosis, it also hurts.  So here you are, having painful sex, but pretending that you aren't because a) you've already spent a better part of a decade believing that you are over reacting about your pelvic pain and b) don't want your husband to feel bad about your grimacing.

Then a doctor comes along and recommends a lap.

It's a Jasmine moment.  "A whole new world....."

On top of the newly discovered sex life, we brought this hideous brown stained lounge chair down from the crap room/would be future nursery for me to recuperate on post surgery.  Our couches are not comfortable or lounge worthy.  Six weeks later and the crappy chair still in the living room.  Why is that?  Because it's a perfect snuggle depth!  I must admit, my slacking in the commenting department has mostly been because I'm snuggling with my husband rather than hanging out on the laptop.

So there you go.  Not only did the lap save my sex life, it managed to get me a snuggle couch.

The Denial Monster

It feels like the stages of grief keep cycling themselves round and round when it comes to IF.  Denial has been a toughie for me.  It's such a powerful state of mind.  I find myself constantly pushing out the thought that none of this is real.  A part of me is always trying to convince my brain that I'm over reacting.  That if I would just "relax" and stop with this treatment I'd be pregnant no problem.  That same little voice is what keeps me fearful that I'll end up being Octomom because really, there's nothing wrong with me, my uterus, or my eggs.

Denial finally seems to have taken a back seat this go around.  This time, I know that there is something wrong with me.  A surgeon or three saw it up close and personal.  A pathologist tested it and categorized it.  An embryologist saw what it did to my eggs and embryos.  This time, there is no running from the truth.  

It's freeing and frightening all at the same time.

Why I Almost Cried In The Bathroom At Office Max

Today, while the hubmeister and I were shopping for his new home office, I got a little teary.  Was Office Max full of infants?  No.  Did I have a moment of sadness because the new office is going in a potential nursery?  No.  I cried because I got my period... and these were tears of joy.

I wasn't happy because CD 1 means we can get IVF #2 going.  I was teary because I just stumbled upon my period.  It wasn't heralded by a very real need for a Vicodin to avoid a day in the fetal position.  I didn't have four days of spotting to let me know it was coming.  I just went to the bathroom and there it was.  Friends, I have had zero pain.  ZERO.  I'm shocked, amazed, and thankful.  I was able to work on the new room and shop all day and I was so happy to be doing so.

I had no idea that it was supposed to be like this.  It's not even an issue.  It's like... well... it's like what the nuns told us it was going to be like back in 5th grade.  So here's my PSA:  If you think that "womanly flow" is akin to more of a Mount Vesuvius and molten lava event than a stream, you should mention it to your doctor.  If the start of your period means you fear a #2 because you know it's going to hurt like a mother, you should mention it to your doctor.  If the first person to give you prescription pain meds for your period was your pediatrician, you should mention it to your doctor.

The surgery was completely worth the lack of pain I'm now feeling.  Even if it doesn't help my fertility, I'm so glad I did it.  So glad.

Hooray Hooray For Q&A

We had a really good visit with the RE today.  I actually feel like he answered all of our (current) questions... because I actually bucked up and asked them!  Go figure.

He told us that the endo was the worst on my bladder, surprisingly.  That was that only thing I didn't have symptoms for!  Now that it's removed, I'm hoping that I can have some time sans constant peeing... at least until I get pregnant, right?  One can only hope!  Anyways, he thinks the pain I'm still experiencing will go away with my next period and he's "anxious to see how it goes."  Well isn't that just nifty.  I guess we're all awaiting AF with baited breath.  He guessed that we have a window of about a year before it starts to come back, and that fertility treatment might speed that up a bit.

Gratuitous puppy pile just so I can say, "Look!  A plethora!"
Image Credit

As usual, he gave us the treatment option smorgasbord.  I realize I need to give him a pseudonym.  I think I shall call him, Dr. Plethora because of all of the options he is constantly throwing at us.  There - he's named. We talked about doing a few months with Depot Lupron.  He told us there was some evidence that it could help with an IVF cycle and we could do it if we wanted.  I cornered him on this one.  I was concerned about the symptoms and he said that we could do add-back to avoid some of that.  So I asked if he thought it would really help in our situation.  He FINALLY gave us his actual opinion.  In our situation, it isn't worth the time.  That if I had stage 4 endo he would push for it, but with stage 2, he thinks the help would be marginal.  So we're skipping it and I might revisit it as a pain treatment when we're done with the baby making.  We'll see.

I also asked him about all the endometriosis diet stuff I see, because no fatty wants to limit her eating that much unless the doctor tells her to.  He said that there are things all over our environment that our bodies treat as estrogen (soaps, shampoos, plastics, stuff in the water, all kinds o'crap) and that just limiting certain foods would have such a very minor impact, that it isn't worth it.  There's no way you could avoid things in the world enough to change the estrogenic response in the body.  I was happy to hear that.  What the hell would I eat?  And no wine for the rest of my life?  Shoot me now!

He was very kind and sympathetic and really wanted to make sure we were doing okay emotionally.  He said, "This is not fun stuff to go through by any means and you guys have been through a lot."  It was nice, but I couldn't stop thinking that there are a lot worse things we could have faced at this point.  While never being remotely pregnant makes me sad, I do realize how grateful I am that I haven't suffered a loss.  I see how strong the women in our community are when they experiences losses and I just don't think I could be as strong.  They are the true warriors if you ask me.  Anyway, we're feeling really hopeful right now.  It's good.

As soon as AF rears her head, I'll start BCPs again for IVF #2 - this time WITH ICSI.  We will do another antagonist cycle since I made plenty of mature eggs on it.  He's hopeful that the ICSI will give us more embryos and that cleaning out the endo will give us better quality embryos.  Sounds like a plan to me! And if you're here from ICLW... What up?

The Anxiety Game

Welcome to the Infertility Anxiety Game!  Here's your host, Random Information!

My RE happened to call today to talk about my biopsy results and said I don't have to come in for the post op since I'm doing fine.  I'm back to exercising - it just still freakin hurts when I pee!  Anyway, the biopsy showed some plasma cells.  Not a lot, just a few.  So it could be that I have chronic endometritis or it could be that I don't.  He wants to treat it anyway because it's not going to hurt anything.  So a month of Doxy it is.  Whoopie!  That's the only thing he had a definitive opinion on.  Seriously, I just wish a doctor would tell me what to do!

So he said we can do whatever we want at this point.  We can try on our own for a bit, we can do an ovulation induction cycle, we can do an FET with our lonely embryo, or we can so a fresh cycle.  I was dumbfounded.  I asked why we would want to try on our own and he said that some people want to do that after a lap just in case it worked well enough to allow for a natural pregnancy and that was fine.  It made me a little nauseous to think about being back at the beginning.  I feel like we had to fail and fail and fail before we had an option to do something that had a chance at actually working.  My FSH is 11.6, I'm 34 years old, we had shitty fertilization, I know the lap gives us a certain time window... why would I want to start at square one?  He said that we shouldn't count out IUIs or natural pregnancy based on the fert rate.  I didn't really understand his rationale.  Something about there being lots of reasons why that could have happened?  Children were screaming in the hallway and I was overwhelmed at the moment so I didn't really wrap my head around it.

I said, "We were prepared to do another fresh cycle, and we have insurance coverage for it."  He said, "Well, your best chance is always going to be IVF and it's hard to argue against it when you have coverage."  So that's what we're doing.  But he wants to sit down with us next week to talk about possibly doing a few months with Depot Lupron.  Oh, and since I haven't had a prolonged temp rise and I gave up on OPKs, if my period doesn't start by Wed I'm supposed to call for Provera.  So here's the anxiety list as it stands.

• My poop chute after a month on Doxy.
• Will insurance still cover ART since I've had a lap?
• Why haven't they finished processing the claim for the lap and hysteroscopy anyway?  That's way more money than I have.
• Will insurance cover ICSI since I'm not going to not do that this time?
• Would Lupron really help or is it just wasting time, sanity, and clean armpits in my clothes?
• Why does peeing still hurt if the culture was clear?
• Will this weight ever come off?
• How soon until the endo comes back?
• What if my period starts before my appointment?  Do I call and see if I'm supposed to start BCPs?
• What if I need Provera?  How long until my period starts?
• How bad is this period going to suck?
• Am I being melodramatic?  Should I just wait and see right now?  Am I pushing things by going straight back into IVF?
• Will I ever have a freakin' baby?

Oh darlings. Some input from my bloggy sisters would be awesome!

Tie A Yellow Ribbon...

A mom conversation:

Me: I've been reading up on Endometriosis and it's really frustrating.
Mom: Why's that?
Me:  Well, nobody knows anything!  They don't really know what causes it so the evidence behind the treatments is kind of random.
Mom:  Yeah, I read that Lupron thing is really for prostate cancer.  You guys need your own drugs.  There just isn't enough money to go around for all the causes anymore.  Especially resarch.  You know this.
Me:  Yeah, but it's still frustrating.  I feel like I need to get involved somehow and I don't know how.
Mom:  You need a thing.
Me:  A thing?
Mom:  Yeah.  To raise awareness.  Like the breast cancer people.  But no one wants to talk about menstruation.
Me:  There are groups, mom.  There's even a ribbon.
Mom:  A ribbon?
Me:  Yeah.  It's yellow.
Mom:  Isn't something else a yellow ribbon?
Me:  Yup.  Missing people, soldiers who have been deployed...
Mom:  Oh yeah.  "Tie a yellow ribbon" and all that.  That's dumb.  You need a different color.  It shouldn't even be a ribbon.
Me: Why not?  Missing people and autism have ribbons.
Mom:  Yeah, but you guys should be more like the red dress people.  You know how women's heart disease has the red dress campaign?
Me:  So we should have a yellow dress?
Mom:  Or a yellow tampon.
Me:  MOM!
Mom: You could even tie the string into a bow.

Gotta love the momma person.

The Lap Story

The day before surgery, I got a call from the anesthesiologist.  Apparently they just do a phone screen for the young and healthy.  He was really nice and answered all of my questions.  He said that my blood work was all negative, and "unfortunately so was the pregnancy test."  I kind of chuckled and said that the last test was only a week-and-a-half ago, so I couldn't say I was surprised.  He said, "Well, it always hurts to hear it.  I don't tell many people this, but my wife and I were there at the same clinic and we now have two children.  So you're in good hands."  I thought that was so nice of him.

Surgery was scheduled for 8:45 and we were required to be there at 7:15.  We checked in and they took me back to the prep area.  After I changed into my beautiful gown, they took my vitals, got my IV started, and brought J back to sit with me.  My RE came back and gave us his post op instructions and what he expected would happen in surgery.  Then they gave me some Versed and back we went.  I was a little loopy, but managed to get myself situated on the table, which seemed to have some sort of butt cut out on it?  I don't know.  I just know I was trying to put my but near, but not in a hole.  They put my arms by my sides in some styrofoamy things, and that's all I remember.

Next thing I remember was hearing a nurse call out to the nurse's station "where's Mylastname?"  and I chirped, "right here."  Then my husband's shiny face was there in my recovery hole.  He told me what the RE told him.  That there was a lot of endo.  It was on my ovaries, bladder, rectum, and pelvic wall.  They lasered some and excised others.  He staged it at 2 since most of it was superficial, but that there was a lot and it would account for my pain.  The hysteroscopy looked good.  They took a biopsy, but there were no polyps, adhesions, or fibroids.  Surgery took about 2 and-a-half hours.

I wasn't in much pain in the recovery room, but I was a bit nauseous.  She gave me something and POOF it was gone.  I was so tired, but apparently they really want you out of there.  What was weird on the way out what that the nurse was wheeling me to the car in a wheel chair and chatting and someone came hurrying up behind her, put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Bye Dr. Mylastname!  Take care!"  I just said "thanks," but couldn't see who it was.  The nurse pushing me said,  "You're a doctor?"  I skipped my whole, "I'm not a physician.  It's a clinical degree.  Kind of like an optometrist." spiel and just said "yeah."  She said, "I should have known from your shoes."  I had my clogs on.  But I don't know who came up behind me and it kind of freaked me out.  I know there was nothing "doctoresque" on my intake paperwork.  I was in a hospital that we kind of "compete" with and I didn't want to fall on anyone's radar.

I slept most of yesterday.  The first pee hurt like nobody's business.  I've been in quite a bit of pain, especially my throat.  I wasn't allowed to eat solid food yesterday and I still haven't pooped.  That freaks me out.  Once I'm in a position, I feel fine, but sitting up, lying down, basically moving into a position hurts.  I have not had any of that shoulder pain, thankfully.  Really really thankful for that.  My husband has been a saint.  I feel like such a schmo asking him to do so much for me.  I had to wake him repeatedly so that I could get help getting up to pee.  Whenever I stand I feel like my innards are just hanging there.  Like there's nothing to support them.  It's weird.  And they are super pissed that there were lasers thrown at them.

I'm glad we have a diagnosis, I'm glad I'm not a hypochondriac, and I'm glad it was mostly superficial.  I hate that there is anything wrong with me, but I'm glad to finally have some sort of confirmation.  Post op is in two weeks and we'll see where to go next.

I hope that colase kicks in soon!  There really is no such thing as TMI in an IF blog, is there?

Surgery OVER!

I'm home and had a chance to sleep a bunch. They want me flat so the laptop isn't really feasible. Blogging from my phone, so this will be short and riddled with errors.
I have stage 2 endometriosis.  It was all over in there, including rectum, bladder, and ovaries. He staged it as 2 because although there was a lot, it was NOT deep. Hooray! He did lasering and excision of lesions. Tubes are still open, no fibroids or polyps. Just the endo. I have post op in 2 weeks to talk about what to do. He fully expects it to come back. One of the fellows I see a lot was there and he promised to take before and after pics. I hope he did! Yay gore!
The IV meds are starting to wear off and holy mother! 30 min and I can take something. I'll write the whole story tomorrow. My husband is awesome. He rented The Vow.
Thanks for all of the kind and supportive comments!