I am happy to report that the PIO shots continue to go smoothly and (very nearly) painlessly. They hurt about as much as the old GonalF injections, which is to say, not much to speak of. I can honestly say I'd take the PIO shot instead of a flu shot any day! I also tend to bruise if you look at me too hard, but my backside remains unmarked.
Since this is notably unusual, I thought I would share our technique as best I can. Keep in mind, neither of us is a medical professional and your doctor may have different instructions for you. Below are the instructions our doctor gave us.
1. Warm the PIO to body temperature by tucking the vial into my bra for about 30 minutes pre-shot.
2. Swab the top of the vial and then the injection site with alcohol.
3. Using the larger needle, pull out the syringe plunger to 1cc (my dose) and insert into the vial.
4. Push plunger in completely and then draw the dose into the syringe, taking care to eliminate any bubbles.
5. Switch to the smaller (injecting) needle and push the plunger carefully until a bead of oil appears at the end of the needle.
6. I bend over the back of a chair, resting my ribcage on the chair back and my elbows on the table, putting all my weight on my left leg for a right-side injection (or my right leg for a left-side injection).
7. Prof uses one hand to pinch up the flesh in the target area and the other hand to work the syringe.
8. Needle goes in all the way, and quickly.
9. Prof maintains the "pinch" with one hand and shifts his grip on the syringe to be more stable/steady.
10. Pull back on the plunger. If blood appears in the syringe, pull the needle out and reinsert in a different spot. If the plunger resists and there is no blood, proceed with the injection (maintaining the "pinch" at all times).
11. When the full dose has been injected, remove the needle and apply pressure with a sterile gauze pad.
12. Massage gently, stroking outward from the injection site to disperse the oil.
13. Apply a band-aid (just in case). The band-aid also helps me remember which side was done last.
PSA - Never reuse needles and always dispose of them in an approved sharps container.
In discussing this with Prof, we've decided that confidence on the part of the person wielding the needle goes a long way to minimizing pain.* Don't hesitate! Get the needle all the way in quickly, in one stroke, then keep the syringe steady (no wiggling). While injecting, push the plunger in slowly and evenly. Prof takes nearly 10 seconds the push through the 1cc dose.
*If the person doing the injecting needs some practice to build their confidence, an orange makes a good target (just use water in the syringe). This will provide an opportunity to work on quick insertion and maintaining a steady hand while managing the syringe one-handed.
Showing posts with label Professor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Professor. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
And Then There Were None (UPDATED)
The clinic called on Day6 to let us know that none of the remaining six embryos made it to blastocyst. As such they are not viable and will be discarded. I knew the quality wasn't great, but it was a severe shock to realize they are all gone. I spent the day crying on and off. I know they transferred the two best on Day3, but I now have serious doubts about their chances.
Prof said that as disappointing and worrying as it is, at least this is a clear end. If this cycle works, it works. If it doesn't, we are done. We don't even have to worry about whether or not to do an FET. He is right on that score, but that doesn't make it hurt any less today.
UPDATED: For the record, there is not really a concern with the donor's egg quality. She was a proven donor with a highly successful previous record. We do not have any idea what went wrong.
Prof said that as disappointing and worrying as it is, at least this is a clear end. If this cycle works, it works. If it doesn't, we are done. We don't even have to worry about whether or not to do an FET. He is right on that score, but that doesn't make it hurt any less today.
UPDATED: For the record, there is not really a concern with the donor's egg quality. She was a proven donor with a highly successful previous record. We do not have any idea what went wrong.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Transfer (and Correction)
Transfer went smoothly - two eight-cell embryos! You gotta love those high-res ultrasound machines - and seeing the little white bubble left behind when they pulled back the catheter. I was instructed to take two days of couch-rest (no cooking/cleaning or other exertion) and we got a little picture to take home.
It turns out, since we had fewer than 10 viable eggs they used ICSI on all of them. All eight that fertilized were still growing at the time of transfer, though the embryologist did say some of them were growing slowly and wouldn't be expected to make it to freeze (he didn't say how many). He will call us later this week to let us know the final stats.
We have also started the PIO shots and I am happy to report that so far, it does not hurt one bit. Prof has lots of IM injection experience from the days when he helped care for his Dad, so I'm guessing that helps. Dare I hope this will continue to be the case?
So now, we wait. Of course my RE is one of those who like a little extra time before beta, so it will be nearly Thanksgiving before we have any real results. We are still debating the wisdom of POAS (I am pro and Prof is con). I am remarkably calm for now and very much aware that if this going to work, it will work and there's not much else I can do.
It turns out, since we had fewer than 10 viable eggs they used ICSI on all of them. All eight that fertilized were still growing at the time of transfer, though the embryologist did say some of them were growing slowly and wouldn't be expected to make it to freeze (he didn't say how many). He will call us later this week to let us know the final stats.
We have also started the PIO shots and I am happy to report that so far, it does not hurt one bit. Prof has lots of IM injection experience from the days when he helped care for his Dad, so I'm guessing that helps. Dare I hope this will continue to be the case?
So now, we wait. Of course my RE is one of those who like a little extra time before beta, so it will be nearly Thanksgiving before we have any real results. We are still debating the wisdom of POAS (I am pro and Prof is con). I am remarkably calm for now and very much aware that if this going to work, it will work and there's not much else I can do.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Just the Facts (UPDATED)
After a certain amount of drama resulting from storm-related issues, our donor took her trigger shot and our retrieval is done!* My original medication calendar has been revised so many times that they had to write me a new one from scratch. It has been... a roller coaster of a week, but for the moment there is hope.
Prof went by himself to drop off the swim team (a first in our ART adventures). Afterwards, he said the crowd in the waiting room was particularly bizarre. So bizarre that he thought perhaps someone slipped some LSD in his coffee.
The nurse called a few hours post-retrieval to let us know that we got eleven eggs. They will do ICSI on half and let the rest fertilize naturally (or as naturally as possible when floating in a petri dish). Don't ask me how they "half" an odd number of eggs...
Welcome to my sci-fi life.
UPDATED:
Nine of the eleven eggs were mature.
Eight fertilized.
We are scheduled for a Day3 transfer.
*You wouldn't believe the amount of tension and relief deceptively encapsulated in that single sentence. Really, I should get some kind of award for understatement there.
Prof went by himself to drop off the swim team (a first in our ART adventures). Afterwards, he said the crowd in the waiting room was particularly bizarre. So bizarre that he thought perhaps someone slipped some LSD in his coffee.
The nurse called a few hours post-retrieval to let us know that we got eleven eggs. They will do ICSI on half and let the rest fertilize naturally (or as naturally as possible when floating in a petri dish). Don't ask me how they "half" an odd number of eggs...
Welcome to my sci-fi life.
UPDATED:
Nine of the eleven eggs were mature.
Eight fertilized.
We are scheduled for a Day3 transfer.
*You wouldn't believe the amount of tension and relief deceptively encapsulated in that single sentence. Really, I should get some kind of award for understatement there.
Monday, October 29, 2012
One Step Closer
We had our lining check and YAY for another 10mm triple stripe! My ovaries may be slackers, but my uterus is a very diligent worker. We are expecting an update on the donor's progress any day, at which point we will have a better idea what the rest of the calendar looks like. Of course, like any IVF cycle, things will remain flexible and tentative until the last minute. Naturally, this has served as a wake-up call to the hamsters in my brain and my anxiety has suddenly exploded. Until quite recently, I was calm and unconcerned. Today, I need more information like a junkie needs a fix. I am ready to crawl out of my skin for lack of information. I also feel like I have a massive reserve of energy that needs to be targeted to some sort of "productive" project. Like a crochet blanket, or perhaps building a second bathroom on our house. With my bare hands.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
We also had our IM injection instruction "refresher". We did have the verbal instruction a year and half ago, but as we never made it to retrieval in an IVF cycle, we have never had an opportunity to put it into practice. THUS. Prof had to perform a practice injection in the presence of the nurse when my lining check was complete. Neither of us was expecting that. I mean, we knew we would have to do a PIO injection at some point, just not right that moment.
The nurse did a dry run so we could see the process and drew the targets on my hips. I was surprised how high up and how small the viable area was. Not much room for site rotation in those little circles... I was having a really hard time refraining from vomiting and/or running from the room in a panic with my pants around my knees. The nurse then turned it over to Prof and he did the actual injection (with saline only as it's still too early in the cycle for actual PIO). He totally nailed it! I barely felt it. That great huge needle, all those nerves... and it was much less painful than a flu shot.
I've seen so much talk about the trauma of PIO injections. The huge needle, the excruciating pain... I know that once we're dealing with oil instead of saline the after-effects will be more troublesome, but at least I've conquered the fear of the giant needle itself.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
We also had our IM injection instruction "refresher". We did have the verbal instruction a year and half ago, but as we never made it to retrieval in an IVF cycle, we have never had an opportunity to put it into practice. THUS. Prof had to perform a practice injection in the presence of the nurse when my lining check was complete. Neither of us was expecting that. I mean, we knew we would have to do a PIO injection at some point, just not right that moment.
The nurse did a dry run so we could see the process and drew the targets on my hips. I was surprised how high up and how small the viable area was. Not much room for site rotation in those little circles... I was having a really hard time refraining from vomiting and/or running from the room in a panic with my pants around my knees. The nurse then turned it over to Prof and he did the actual injection (with saline only as it's still too early in the cycle for actual PIO). He totally nailed it! I barely felt it. That great huge needle, all those nerves... and it was much less painful than a flu shot.
I've seen so much talk about the trauma of PIO injections. The huge needle, the excruciating pain... I know that once we're dealing with oil instead of saline the after-effects will be more troublesome, but at least I've conquered the fear of the giant needle itself.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Paying Our Dues (UPDATED)
We handed in our payment for our upcoming donor egg cycle today.
First thing this morning, we went to the bank to get a cashiers check for the clinic. It should be noted that I NEVER go into the bank. I normally do everything either online or at the ATM, but this had to be done in person. Due to amount on the check, we had to provide the payee name. I deliberately did not look at the teller when I handed her the form. When she handed us the transaction receipt, I didn't see the processing fee so I asked her which account she took it from and she just waved a hand and said, "Don't worry about it". It was only five dollars, but it was a nice gesture so I thanked her and we left.
As we got into the car, Prof mentioned that he always seems to get that same teller when he goes to the bank and they always chat. I commented that it was nice of her to waive the check fee and he told me that he was looking at her face when I handed her the form and "she went soft around the eyes when she read it".
All of our paperwork has been signed and delivered.
Our cycle is paid in full.
My meds have been delivered.
My mid-cycle monitoring has been scheduled.
I start my shots in a little more than week.
We will know our results by American Thanksgiving.
UPDATED: By some minor miracle, my insurance covered all of MY meds for this cycle except the Lup.ron (which is only $200). They weren't covered for the mock cycle, but they are this time. And switching the estrogen patches to a different brand in order to get a smaller patch meant they were covered too - nearly 60 patches for just a $35 copay. I hope these are signs of good things to come and not the universe trying to soften the blow.
First thing this morning, we went to the bank to get a cashiers check for the clinic. It should be noted that I NEVER go into the bank. I normally do everything either online or at the ATM, but this had to be done in person. Due to amount on the check, we had to provide the payee name. I deliberately did not look at the teller when I handed her the form. When she handed us the transaction receipt, I didn't see the processing fee so I asked her which account she took it from and she just waved a hand and said, "Don't worry about it". It was only five dollars, but it was a nice gesture so I thanked her and we left.
As we got into the car, Prof mentioned that he always seems to get that same teller when he goes to the bank and they always chat. I commented that it was nice of her to waive the check fee and he told me that he was looking at her face when I handed her the form and "she went soft around the eyes when she read it".
All of our paperwork has been signed and delivered.
Our cycle is paid in full.
My meds have been delivered.
My mid-cycle monitoring has been scheduled.
I start my shots in a little more than week.
We will know our results by American Thanksgiving.
UPDATED: By some minor miracle, my insurance covered all of MY meds for this cycle except the Lup.ron (which is only $200). They weren't covered for the mock cycle, but they are this time. And switching the estrogen patches to a different brand in order to get a smaller patch meant they were covered too - nearly 60 patches for just a $35 copay. I hope these are signs of good things to come and not the universe trying to soften the blow.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Ticked Off and Triple Stripe
One more to-do ticked off the list. The mock cycle is complete, right on schedule.
If you follow me on Twitter, you may have seen me mention that my E2 blood work earlier this week came back way too low. The ginormous estrogen patches weren't having enough impact, so they added little blue estrogen tablets to my protocol (not to be taken orally) which had the unusual side effect of blue cervical mucus. Good times here in SlackieLand!
The emotional roller coaster evened out quite a bit with the decrease in the lu.pron dose and the addition of the estrogen, though the headaches continued undiminished. I was doing OK until Thursday when I had to increase the number of patches to four and ran out of unused belly real estate. These things are ridiculous! They are perfectly round and about three inches in diameter. As a result, I had to place them higher on my abdomen than I liked and BOY was that a miserable sensation! Every move I made caused the patches to pull and pucker and it was driving me batshit. There was an awful lot of pouting on the couch last night.
This morning was the Big Reveal - my appointment at the RE to check my lining and see how I responded to the mock protocol. When the nurse walked in and asked how things were going, I kind of exploded about the patches. Oops. I felt like she was humoring me a bit, but when I pulled up my shirt and showed her just how big these patches are... she agreed that they were ridiculous and suggested I request a smaller brand when I refill (which, you bet your boots I sure will).
The good news was that I managed to grow a lovely triple stripe lining just under 10mm, even with my earlier sub-par E2 levels. So the mock cycle was declared a success and the nurse let me pull off all my icky patches right then and there. YAY!!! In other way-to-start-the-weekend news, Prof's emergency swim team got an even better report than the crew he dropped off last year when we tried IVF for the first time with my eggs. Smiles all around!
So - the Plan is that I call the nurse coordinator when I start bleeding next week (uh.. didn't I just do that LAST week?) and she will present us with one or two donor profiles to review. I'll go back on BCP and stay on them until our donor starts stims. When the time comes for our real DEIVF cycle, I will start the estrogen patches and the little blue tablets at the same time. Otherwise, they are happy with my plan.
NOTE ABOUT PATCH ADHESIVE: There has been much commentary between here and Twitter regarding the removal of the patch adhesive. The ones I have are less sticky I guess, since after two days most of them started to release on their own even though they were meant to stay on four days. The silver lining is that my Purp.ose facial cleanser got all the sticky bits off with no scrubbing or struggle at all.
If you follow me on Twitter, you may have seen me mention that my E2 blood work earlier this week came back way too low. The ginormous estrogen patches weren't having enough impact, so they added little blue estrogen tablets to my protocol (not to be taken orally) which had the unusual side effect of blue cervical mucus. Good times here in SlackieLand!
The emotional roller coaster evened out quite a bit with the decrease in the lu.pron dose and the addition of the estrogen, though the headaches continued undiminished. I was doing OK until Thursday when I had to increase the number of patches to four and ran out of unused belly real estate. These things are ridiculous! They are perfectly round and about three inches in diameter. As a result, I had to place them higher on my abdomen than I liked and BOY was that a miserable sensation! Every move I made caused the patches to pull and pucker and it was driving me batshit. There was an awful lot of pouting on the couch last night.
This morning was the Big Reveal - my appointment at the RE to check my lining and see how I responded to the mock protocol. When the nurse walked in and asked how things were going, I kind of exploded about the patches. Oops. I felt like she was humoring me a bit, but when I pulled up my shirt and showed her just how big these patches are... she agreed that they were ridiculous and suggested I request a smaller brand when I refill (which, you bet your boots I sure will).
The good news was that I managed to grow a lovely triple stripe lining just under 10mm, even with my earlier sub-par E2 levels. So the mock cycle was declared a success and the nurse let me pull off all my icky patches right then and there. YAY!!! In other way-to-start-the-weekend news, Prof's emergency swim team got an even better report than the crew he dropped off last year when we tried IVF for the first time with my eggs. Smiles all around!
So - the Plan is that I call the nurse coordinator when I start bleeding next week (uh.. didn't I just do that LAST week?) and she will present us with one or two donor profiles to review. I'll go back on BCP and stay on them until our donor starts stims. When the time comes for our real DEIVF cycle, I will start the estrogen patches and the little blue tablets at the same time. Otherwise, they are happy with my plan.
NOTE ABOUT PATCH ADHESIVE: There has been much commentary between here and Twitter regarding the removal of the patch adhesive. The ones I have are less sticky I guess, since after two days most of them started to release on their own even though they were meant to stay on four days. The silver lining is that my Purp.ose facial cleanser got all the sticky bits off with no scrubbing or struggle at all.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Why Didn't We Do That Sooner?
I suppose the truth is, we did it when we were ready in our hearts and not before. Thank you so much for your comments and tweets of support. It was an intense week, but a decision has been made and an appointment has been set for next week (OMG how fast did they get us in?!) to start the DEIVF process.
I just need my job to lay off with the crazy stress so I can actually soak this in...
I just need my job to lay off with the crazy stress so I can actually soak this in...
Monday, March 19, 2012
One Week (Points to Consider)
I hate those stick figure collections people splash all over their rear windows, but yesterday they served a valid purpose. Prof and I went out for a coffee and pulled up behind one of these on our way home. Prof sighed and said, "I think about the kid thing all the time". Which got the conversation started. By the time we got home, we had acknowledged that we BOTH think about the kid thing pretty much constantly. To distraction. I knew he thought about it too, but somehow I didn't realize he thought about it as much as I do.
To recap, we have established that we are NOT afraid of:
And lo and behold, our thoughts and fears are still running along the same lines:
I think that last one is the real question here. The thing we're really afraid of discovering about ourselves after it's too late.
There's a piece of this puzzle that we can't see yet. I've seen a million and three comments about how everything changes once that baby arrives... specifically how new parents' attitudes toward their own offspring took them by surprise. Without any offspring of our own, we can't see the shape of that puzzle piece to know how it's going to fit into our existing picture.
So standing in the kitchen and tossing all of that out there, we came to two conclusions:
So Prof has proposed an idea. We will have a brief discussion about our thoughts on the subject every evening this week. Next Sunday, we will make a Plan. We even shook on it.
To recap, we have established that we are NOT afraid of:
- Using Donor Eggs to conceive
- Losing our relationship to Parenthood
And lo and behold, our thoughts and fears are still running along the same lines:
- Kids are expensive and we're just making ends meet as it is.
- DEIVF kids are even more expensive. Where does that money come from?
- This world is an ugly, scary place in which to launch a tiny little loved one.
- Our lifestyle would have to change dramatically (like you have NO idea how dramatically).
- How do parents get it all done?
- What if we hate being parents?
I think that last one is the real question here. The thing we're really afraid of discovering about ourselves after it's too late.
There's a piece of this puzzle that we can't see yet. I've seen a million and three comments about how everything changes once that baby arrives... specifically how new parents' attitudes toward their own offspring took them by surprise. Without any offspring of our own, we can't see the shape of that puzzle piece to know how it's going to fit into our existing picture.
So standing in the kitchen and tossing all of that out there, we came to two conclusions:
- If we don't do this because we're afraid of A/B/C, then we let the fear win and that's not our style.
- We're not getting any younger and this isn't going to get any easier by postponing it. We need to make a decision and move forward one way or another.
So Prof has proposed an idea. We will have a brief discussion about our thoughts on the subject every evening this week. Next Sunday, we will make a Plan. We even shook on it.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Cancelled
After our last monitoring appointment, it was fairly clear that we weren't going all the way to retrieval, even without knowing the estrogen level. We were obviously feeling daunted and beaten down.
The sun was shining, there was a scattering of little fluffy clouds and a light breeze. Such a beautiful day and such a disappointment. We stopped at the curb for a quick hug before heading into our respective days. Suddenly, I could not abide the thought of driving into work and sitting at my computer all day and the tears started.
My dear, sweet Professor gave me a big squeeze and suggested we go for a walk in the park that backs onto the medical complex where our RE has his office. So we walked along the tree line till we found a gap, and picked our way through, dress pants/shoes and all. We didn't go far and we didn't talk about anything in particular, but by the time we picked our way back through the brush to the parking lot, a few of the clouds had blown away and the day seemed a little less bleak.
When I texted him to let him know we were officially cancelled, he replied, "We've still got each other."
I love my husband.
The sun was shining, there was a scattering of little fluffy clouds and a light breeze. Such a beautiful day and such a disappointment. We stopped at the curb for a quick hug before heading into our respective days. Suddenly, I could not abide the thought of driving into work and sitting at my computer all day and the tears started.
My dear, sweet Professor gave me a big squeeze and suggested we go for a walk in the park that backs onto the medical complex where our RE has his office. So we walked along the tree line till we found a gap, and picked our way through, dress pants/shoes and all. We didn't go far and we didn't talk about anything in particular, but by the time we picked our way back through the brush to the parking lot, a few of the clouds had blown away and the day seemed a little less bleak.
When I texted him to let him know we were officially cancelled, he replied, "We've still got each other."
I love my husband.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Romeo
OMG y'all. So funny I just had to share.
The temps are quite lovely today, so we've got the windows open around the house. We're just hanging out and we can hear people outside talking and calling to each other down the street. All of a sudden we hear someone calling their dog:
"Romeo! Romeo! ROOMEEOOO!"
And Prof exclaims:
"How can you not finish the line!? WHEREFORE ART THOU ROMEO!"
I'm dying here. He kills me.
The temps are quite lovely today, so we've got the windows open around the house. We're just hanging out and we can hear people outside talking and calling to each other down the street. All of a sudden we hear someone calling their dog:
"Romeo! Romeo! ROOMEEOOO!"
And Prof exclaims:
"How can you not finish the line!? WHEREFORE ART THOU ROMEO!"
I'm dying here. He kills me.
Monday, February 14, 2011
To My Valentine
Smart
Strong
Silly
Gentle
Protective
Supportive
Funny
Honorable
Generous
Hard-working
Hopeful
I'm so lucky to have him, so lucky that he loves me, so lucky that we are so in tune with one another. I wouldn't change him for anything.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Peace Be On This Place
50,000 internetz to the first reader to peg that reference...
(HINT: teen fiction)
I don't know how it happened, or why, or to be honest, even when. All I know is that I am suddenly so completely at peace with all of this IF business. I declared 2011 to be the Year of Letting Go. There was Runny Yolk's post that inspired me to confess my Secret Fears and all of your lovely responses to that confession. Thank you so much for those comments! Y'all make this road so much less lonely and you are the reason I keep coming here. Then Jess said this in a post on her blog:
... a child should be icing on the cake, not the cake itself.
What a fabulous reminder of the whole reason the Professor and I waited so long to toss the birth control in the first place. We've had a few really good, clear-the-air type talks lately and I've just been feeling so at peace. It's been coming on for a while now. I'm reaching a point where I'm getting a feeling of closure. Maybe it's that we've been ticking options off our treatment list so steadily. Maybe it's that I'm feeling my age. Maybe it's getting to know ourselves so very well through this process. I wish I could share a map to help anyone who needs to find this peaceful place, but I just sort of woke up here.
We've given this baby making thing our all, and we aren't finished yet. Yes, we still have one IUI left, and then a round of IVF (and depending on the results of that, any FETs we might be so lucky to squeeze out). Really, quite a long way to go yet! But I sense that the time is coming when I will be ready to call it quits. I won't be one of those women who appear to have bottomless reserves of both strength and funding to continue IVF time and again. We will only have the money to do one fresh cycle. IF we get anything to freeze (BIG IF), we might be able to scrape together enough for FET.
I wouldn't go so far as to say I feel hopeful, because what I really am is realistic. One of our last attempts might work. Or none of them might work. We will do everything we can, and that will have to be enough. And whatever the outcome of these next cycles, we will be OK.
I haven't lost hope. I've just let it go.
Please let this feeling stick around.
(HINT: teen fiction)
I don't know how it happened, or why, or to be honest, even when. All I know is that I am suddenly so completely at peace with all of this IF business. I declared 2011 to be the Year of Letting Go. There was Runny Yolk's post that inspired me to confess my Secret Fears and all of your lovely responses to that confession. Thank you so much for those comments! Y'all make this road so much less lonely and you are the reason I keep coming here. Then Jess said this in a post on her blog:
... a child should be icing on the cake, not the cake itself.
What a fabulous reminder of the whole reason the Professor and I waited so long to toss the birth control in the first place. We've had a few really good, clear-the-air type talks lately and I've just been feeling so at peace. It's been coming on for a while now. I'm reaching a point where I'm getting a feeling of closure. Maybe it's that we've been ticking options off our treatment list so steadily. Maybe it's that I'm feeling my age. Maybe it's getting to know ourselves so very well through this process. I wish I could share a map to help anyone who needs to find this peaceful place, but I just sort of woke up here.
We've given this baby making thing our all, and we aren't finished yet. Yes, we still have one IUI left, and then a round of IVF (and depending on the results of that, any FETs we might be so lucky to squeeze out). Really, quite a long way to go yet! But I sense that the time is coming when I will be ready to call it quits. I won't be one of those women who appear to have bottomless reserves of both strength and funding to continue IVF time and again. We will only have the money to do one fresh cycle. IF we get anything to freeze (BIG IF), we might be able to scrape together enough for FET.
I wouldn't go so far as to say I feel hopeful, because what I really am is realistic. One of our last attempts might work. Or none of them might work. We will do everything we can, and that will have to be enough. And whatever the outcome of these next cycles, we will be OK.
I haven't lost hope. I've just let it go.
Please let this feeling stick around.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Secret Fears
Inspired by a recent confession by Runny Yolk, I've decided it's time to open up about one of my big IF fears. I took so much comfort from reading her post, and being smacked upside the head once again with the YOU-ARE-NOT-ALONE stick. So this is in hopes that one of you (who maybe don't follow Runny Yolk) will get that same message: You are not the only one. I know that, because I am not the only one. See how that works?
A little bit of history here: until I was, oh... say... about 34? I couldn't stand children. Didn't really know any people who had them, wouldn't accept a table near them in a restaurant, generally cringed when confronted with them. I didn't even babysit as a teenager. Kids were my Kryptonite. I certainly didn't want any of my own, and I wasn't quiet about it. To this day, I still hesitate when presented with the opportunity to hold infants.
So why am I doing this?
I couldn't give you the date, but the moment is fixed in my mind like a photograph I've seen a thousand times. As I said, I was about 34. I was driving to work one afternoon (I used to work nights) and I saw a woman pushing her 1-2 year old daughter down the sidewalk in a stroller. There was nothing special about them, they were just an ordinary Mom and baby doing an ordinary thing. It was like time stopped and someone flipped a switch. I was open to a child of my own. Of course, I'm now racing towards 39 and no closer closing the deal.
I'm sure I've mentioned this here in passing, lumped in with a range of other fears, but I've been afraid to give it too much sunlight lest it grow roots and flourish. After more than a year jam-packed with failed fertility treatments, I finally came clean to the Professor last week about one of my deep dark What IFs. Damn that was hard, but luckily for me, he responded in true Professorial fashion and made me feel better on the spot. When will I learn to open up sooner?
Lately, I've been worrying more and more that the reason we haven't seen any success in our efforts against infertility is that I'm in it for the wrong reason. Obviously, the RIGHT reason is wanting a baby. But wait! I DO want a baby! Well, maybe I don't want it enough? Maybe that girl who didn't like kids is still hiding in there and sabotaging my efforts? Because, if I'm honest... when I think about reaching the point where we've exhausted our resources and our options and still not having a baby... it no longer scares me. It doesn't sound like the end of my world. I can think of plenty of good aspects to that situation.
When I shared all of this with the Professor last week, the first thing he said was "Good."
Also obvious, is the fact that this is totally irrational. I've been having trouble pinpointing my motivations for everything I'm putting myself through. I'll tell you right now that I still don't know. I'm just less worried about not knowing since I talked to the Professor about it last week. Maybe I'm deluding myself into a better frame of mind to deal with an ultimate failure at this task? Whatever. I'll take it.
So if the "right" reason is wanting a baby and wanting to be a parent, then as they scroll across my mind's eye, my possible "wrong reasons" are as follows:
I want make the Professor a father, to give him the gift of offspring. This is a fact. No argument, and while not ideal, still a laudable reason.
I'm afraid to disappoint our families, who I know want grandkids. This is also a fact. Though I was never one to do something just because my parents wanted me to, this is an area where I'd rather not disappoint.
I'm just stubborn and can't handle the idea of failing at something I set out to do. This is... close. But not quite right somehow. When I truly fail at something, I usually just blow it off. I am sometimes perfectly OK with not being good at things.
Perhaps a better way to put it would be:
I'm just stubborn and can't handle the idea of failing at something I care about. That feels right. And there's something very important there.
I care.
That's a good enough reason for me.
A little bit of history here: until I was, oh... say... about 34? I couldn't stand children. Didn't really know any people who had them, wouldn't accept a table near them in a restaurant, generally cringed when confronted with them. I didn't even babysit as a teenager. Kids were my Kryptonite. I certainly didn't want any of my own, and I wasn't quiet about it. To this day, I still hesitate when presented with the opportunity to hold infants.
So why am I doing this?
I couldn't give you the date, but the moment is fixed in my mind like a photograph I've seen a thousand times. As I said, I was about 34. I was driving to work one afternoon (I used to work nights) and I saw a woman pushing her 1-2 year old daughter down the sidewalk in a stroller. There was nothing special about them, they were just an ordinary Mom and baby doing an ordinary thing. It was like time stopped and someone flipped a switch. I was open to a child of my own. Of course, I'm now racing towards 39 and no closer closing the deal.
I'm sure I've mentioned this here in passing, lumped in with a range of other fears, but I've been afraid to give it too much sunlight lest it grow roots and flourish. After more than a year jam-packed with failed fertility treatments, I finally came clean to the Professor last week about one of my deep dark What IFs. Damn that was hard, but luckily for me, he responded in true Professorial fashion and made me feel better on the spot. When will I learn to open up sooner?
Lately, I've been worrying more and more that the reason we haven't seen any success in our efforts against infertility is that I'm in it for the wrong reason. Obviously, the RIGHT reason is wanting a baby. But wait! I DO want a baby! Well, maybe I don't want it enough? Maybe that girl who didn't like kids is still hiding in there and sabotaging my efforts? Because, if I'm honest... when I think about reaching the point where we've exhausted our resources and our options and still not having a baby... it no longer scares me. It doesn't sound like the end of my world. I can think of plenty of good aspects to that situation.
When I shared all of this with the Professor last week, the first thing he said was "Good."
Also obvious, is the fact that this is totally irrational. I've been having trouble pinpointing my motivations for everything I'm putting myself through. I'll tell you right now that I still don't know. I'm just less worried about not knowing since I talked to the Professor about it last week. Maybe I'm deluding myself into a better frame of mind to deal with an ultimate failure at this task? Whatever. I'll take it.
So if the "right" reason is wanting a baby and wanting to be a parent, then as they scroll across my mind's eye, my possible "wrong reasons" are as follows:
I want make the Professor a father, to give him the gift of offspring. This is a fact. No argument, and while not ideal, still a laudable reason.
I'm afraid to disappoint our families, who I know want grandkids. This is also a fact. Though I was never one to do something just because my parents wanted me to, this is an area where I'd rather not disappoint.
I'm just stubborn and can't handle the idea of failing at something I set out to do. This is... close. But not quite right somehow. When I truly fail at something, I usually just blow it off. I am sometimes perfectly OK with not being good at things.
Perhaps a better way to put it would be:
I'm just stubborn and can't handle the idea of failing at something I care about. That feels right. And there's something very important there.
I care.
That's a good enough reason for me.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Middle of the Road
That's where I am.
Tomorrow is my post-operative check with the RE. No idea what that will involve.
It will be CD11 and I should be ovulating soon but I won't be bothering with OPKs. While I am hoping to be given the all clear to resume relations with the Professor, I'm not really even thinking about conception. I just miss the grooving!
I figure we'll be doing another stimulated IUI with my next CD1, when it comes. Should put me firmly in a 2WW for our Florida vacation in February. Based on our previous history with this protocol, I don't really expect much.
After that, IVF.
In the meantime, I'm standing here in the middle of my road. I have a route planned, but I'm not rolling just yet. And I'm OK with that. Who would have thought?
Tomorrow is my post-operative check with the RE. No idea what that will involve.
It will be CD11 and I should be ovulating soon but I won't be bothering with OPKs. While I am hoping to be given the all clear to resume relations with the Professor, I'm not really even thinking about conception. I just miss the grooving!
I figure we'll be doing another stimulated IUI with my next CD1, when it comes. Should put me firmly in a 2WW for our Florida vacation in February. Based on our previous history with this protocol, I don't really expect much.
After that, IVF.
In the meantime, I'm standing here in the middle of my road. I have a route planned, but I'm not rolling just yet. And I'm OK with that. Who would have thought?
Friday, December 31, 2010
At Last, 2010 in Re(ar)view
My first instinct is to say "... and good riddance!" but I have to admit that we learned a lot from this past year. There was a lot of SUCK in 2010, but there was a lot of love too.
I don't do resolutions, never have and I won't start now. We haven't cycled since September (wow - that's hard to wrap my mind around), and at this point it looks like it will be late January before we get another shot. I have been strangely at peace with this whole situation for a while now. I am doing what I can on the most efficient time line I can manage, and that needs to be enough. I need to stop dwelling on obstacles and failures, and focus on Life.
I would like to think of 2011 as the Year of Letting Go. Whatever your hopes are for this New Year, my hope for you is a spirit of peace with whatever your future holds. I know that is my hope for myself.
- We are both gainfully employed, and even had a good year financially.
- I got to see BFF(H), which doesn't happen nearly as often as I'd like.
- I discovered the incredible IF community support, first on Twitter and then here in Blogland, without which I would certainly have run screaming mad months ago. Love y'all. Seriously.
- All of our parental units are safe and healthy, and we got to spend time with them.
- We are knocking out our debts one by one.
- Given all that we've been through, the Professor and I are in a good place in our relationship. We haven't suffered in that respect due to this IF journey.
I don't do resolutions, never have and I won't start now. We haven't cycled since September (wow - that's hard to wrap my mind around), and at this point it looks like it will be late January before we get another shot. I have been strangely at peace with this whole situation for a while now. I am doing what I can on the most efficient time line I can manage, and that needs to be enough. I need to stop dwelling on obstacles and failures, and focus on Life.
I would like to think of 2011 as the Year of Letting Go. Whatever your hopes are for this New Year, my hope for you is a spirit of peace with whatever your future holds. I know that is my hope for myself.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Just to Hear Myself Talk
Still trying to manage direct contact with my original RE (really need a name for him) to discuss next steps in regards to the saline sono-thing and the polyps. I left a message, but have not received a call-back. I'll try again Monday. Not critical yet as the whole records transfer thing is still in process, but I just want to feel like I have a plan of action. I'm really in limbo at the moment. Not quite Hell, but it sucks all the same.
Tick-tock, people. Tick. Tock.
Professor is home safe and sound, no further airplane malfunctions. He did opt-out of the nudie scanners and got thoroughly groped for it. He also caught a bug and has been a little under the weather, but all in all, just glad to have him back.
We ordered a new fridge and stove on Saturday. The ones we have now came with the house when we bought it and have seen better days. Neither were much to speak of when they were new, and that was clearly a long time ago. We had hoped to have the new ones in place for Thanksgiving, but alas, that was not to be. I am inordinately excited by the prospect of new appliances. I keep catching myself giggling at the prospect of loading up my fancy new fridge shelves. And an ice-maker! At last! With these appliances installed, our kitchen will be done! We have been working on it little by little since we bought the house over four years ago. I think the master bedroom may be next...
This will be a busy week. I have a haircut and we are double-dating with BFF(B) and her DH on Tuesday - to see HP7! We also have rather a lot of housekeeping to get done as we are hosting my Dad and both of Prof's parents for Thanksgiving this year (thus the hope for the early appliance delivery).
May not be posting again before the holiday, so just in case:
Happy Thanksgiving! Try not throttle anyone!
Tick-tock, people. Tick. Tock.
Professor is home safe and sound, no further airplane malfunctions. He did opt-out of the nudie scanners and got thoroughly groped for it. He also caught a bug and has been a little under the weather, but all in all, just glad to have him back.
We ordered a new fridge and stove on Saturday. The ones we have now came with the house when we bought it and have seen better days. Neither were much to speak of when they were new, and that was clearly a long time ago. We had hoped to have the new ones in place for Thanksgiving, but alas, that was not to be. I am inordinately excited by the prospect of new appliances. I keep catching myself giggling at the prospect of loading up my fancy new fridge shelves. And an ice-maker! At last! With these appliances installed, our kitchen will be done! We have been working on it little by little since we bought the house over four years ago. I think the master bedroom may be next...
This will be a busy week. I have a haircut and we are double-dating with BFF(B) and her DH on Tuesday - to see HP7! We also have rather a lot of housekeeping to get done as we are hosting my Dad and both of Prof's parents for Thanksgiving this year (thus the hope for the early appliance delivery).
May not be posting again before the holiday, so just in case:
Happy Thanksgiving! Try not throttle anyone!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Saturday Night Fever
In true Slackie fashion, I am spending Saturday night curled up on the couch with the cats. Professor is on his way to Paris for the week on business, so I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself. Sure I've been to Paris before and yeah it's only a week and he'll be in meetings for ten hours a day, but I'm spoiled. I would have preferred either to go with him or for him not to go at all.
So here I sit, fretting about the airplane he is on (which had a malfunction necessitating de-planing for a while) and focusing perhaps to an unhealthy degree on the likely next steps in our IF journey. God it's awesome being thirty-eight!
I'm doing a lot of thinking about IVF even though we still have one last IUI to do. I've done a little more digging to see if there is anywhere in reasonable driving distance that we should consider for a proper second opinion, and all signs continue to point to our original clinic being the top IF group in our area. I can't help wishing that we had gotten a real second opinion. I feel like last week's appointment was mostly just a look at what not to do. I've revisited the IVF success rates for our Chosen Clinic versus our "Second Opinion" and the Chosen Clinic has much better numbers. In reviewing their standard protocols, it looks as though for patients my age (38) with my diagnosis (unexplained), they recommend both assisted hatching and ICSI.
I'm still waiting on the blood work results from the second opinion appointment. The AMH takes about ten days to get results because it has to be sent away for the test, so I'll be waiting a while yet. This Tuesday I have a saline sonohysterograph as I've never had one. I'm slightly nervous, but don't really expect to find anything problematic there. After that I will just wait for CD1,which will be around December 5th. Then it will be full steam ahead on injectible IUI#3! I bet I have my baseline the same day as the IVF info session at our clinic. Any takers? The timing will actually be pretty good, with stimming, monitoring and IUI all wrapped up just days before the family descend on us for Christmas. I'll know the outcome by New Year's.
I'm trying not to think about what the new year might hold.
So here I sit, fretting about the airplane he is on (which had a malfunction necessitating de-planing for a while) and focusing perhaps to an unhealthy degree on the likely next steps in our IF journey. God it's awesome being thirty-eight!
I'm doing a lot of thinking about IVF even though we still have one last IUI to do. I've done a little more digging to see if there is anywhere in reasonable driving distance that we should consider for a proper second opinion, and all signs continue to point to our original clinic being the top IF group in our area. I can't help wishing that we had gotten a real second opinion. I feel like last week's appointment was mostly just a look at what not to do. I've revisited the IVF success rates for our Chosen Clinic versus our "Second Opinion" and the Chosen Clinic has much better numbers. In reviewing their standard protocols, it looks as though for patients my age (38) with my diagnosis (unexplained), they recommend both assisted hatching and ICSI.
I'm still waiting on the blood work results from the second opinion appointment. The AMH takes about ten days to get results because it has to be sent away for the test, so I'll be waiting a while yet. This Tuesday I have a saline sonohysterograph as I've never had one. I'm slightly nervous, but don't really expect to find anything problematic there. After that I will just wait for CD1,which will be around December 5th. Then it will be full steam ahead on injectible IUI#3! I bet I have my baseline the same day as the IVF info session at our clinic. Any takers? The timing will actually be pretty good, with stimming, monitoring and IUI all wrapped up just days before the family descend on us for Christmas. I'll know the outcome by New Year's.
I'm trying not to think about what the new year might hold.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Life After IF
Or life with IF. What if there is no "after"? What if there is just IF?
I've been doing a lot of thinking the last week about the future. Being benched really takes the focus away from "this cycle" and redirects it towards "what next". Obviously, the immediate future holds another injectibles cycle. But after that?
I'm considering getting a second opinion. My yearly midwife visit is coming up. The visit that got me a referral to the RE last year. I'm going to discuss a second opinion with my midwife and see what she thinks about the fertility center my acupuncturist has been suggesting I check out. Then I'll need to check with my insurance to see if they'll pay for it.
Realistically, I'm 38 years old, my FSH is OK but not great, treatment has not been successful and I don't really know how long I can continue to push forward. Don't get me wrong - I'm not giving up, but I do feel like time is running out and I don't really know yet how far I am willing to go. I don't know where my breaking point is. If the RE suggests IVF, I will likely be fine moving to that step. But what additional issues might IVF uncover? Will we be encouraged to consider donor eggs/sperm or even surrogacy? We haven't discussed these possibilities, but somehow I don't see us going down any of those roads.
What I am considering is what comes next when I eventually do reach the point where I just can't continue with treatments. Professor and I have discussed adoption and we are in agreement that it is not the right path for us. This actually makes me feel a little sad and a little ashamed, but I have to be honest. It just isn't right for us.
And that leaves just us. Child free. I don't think there will ever come a time, as long as I live, when that thought doesn't hurt at least a little bit, but I am beginning to accept that as a possible outcome. I do worry about what (if anything) we will tell friends and family. I feel like we would need to tell them at least the basics. I don't think I could live that big a lie for the rest of my life. I still worry about becoming an object of pity, you know "that poor woman who couldn't have children". I dread year after year having to witness the disappointment and longing on Professor's face as he watches other people living life with their children and eventually grandchildren.
I am facing these fears, and I am beginning to approach a sort of peace with the idea.
I've been doing a lot of thinking the last week about the future. Being benched really takes the focus away from "this cycle" and redirects it towards "what next". Obviously, the immediate future holds another injectibles cycle. But after that?
I'm considering getting a second opinion. My yearly midwife visit is coming up. The visit that got me a referral to the RE last year. I'm going to discuss a second opinion with my midwife and see what she thinks about the fertility center my acupuncturist has been suggesting I check out. Then I'll need to check with my insurance to see if they'll pay for it.
Realistically, I'm 38 years old, my FSH is OK but not great, treatment has not been successful and I don't really know how long I can continue to push forward. Don't get me wrong - I'm not giving up, but I do feel like time is running out and I don't really know yet how far I am willing to go. I don't know where my breaking point is. If the RE suggests IVF, I will likely be fine moving to that step. But what additional issues might IVF uncover? Will we be encouraged to consider donor eggs/sperm or even surrogacy? We haven't discussed these possibilities, but somehow I don't see us going down any of those roads.
What I am considering is what comes next when I eventually do reach the point where I just can't continue with treatments. Professor and I have discussed adoption and we are in agreement that it is not the right path for us. This actually makes me feel a little sad and a little ashamed, but I have to be honest. It just isn't right for us.
And that leaves just us. Child free. I don't think there will ever come a time, as long as I live, when that thought doesn't hurt at least a little bit, but I am beginning to accept that as a possible outcome. I do worry about what (if anything) we will tell friends and family. I feel like we would need to tell them at least the basics. I don't think I could live that big a lie for the rest of my life. I still worry about becoming an object of pity, you know "that poor woman who couldn't have children". I dread year after year having to witness the disappointment and longing on Professor's face as he watches other people living life with their children and eventually grandchildren.
I am facing these fears, and I am beginning to approach a sort of peace with the idea.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Much Ado About Nothing
Y'all that totally did not hurt.
We've started the GonalF shots. I say "we" because the Professor is currently performing the injections for me. I say "currently" because now that I know exactly how little they hurt, I am determined to do this myself (under his expert supervision) before we are finished. I think I'll still let him do most of them for a number of reasons. I know I have an hourglass figure, but I somehow never realized until this evening how tricky it is to look directly at my belly because my boobs stick out so far. It's a curse. More than that though, I want the Professor to be as heavily involved in this process as possible. And I like when he does stuff to take care of me. Sticking me with a tiny needle and injecting me with hormones totally counts as taking care of me, especially since I was so scared to begin with.
I was so anxious about this first shot that I couldn't even think about food when I got home from work, in spite of my hunger. I basically sat on the couch and waited for eight o'clock to roll around. I re-read the instructions that came with the injector pen. I made the Professor re-read the instructions as well. I had him recite the procedure in full detail from memory as we set up shop in the bathroom.
I pinched. He poked. We counted to five and it was over. I barely felt it.
Professor admitted after the fact that in spite of his experience at this particular task, it had been hard to do that to me, because it was ME. I assured him it really was painless and we had a good giggle about how anxious I'd made both of us.
God I'm starving! Time to order a pizza to celebrate!
We've started the GonalF shots. I say "we" because the Professor is currently performing the injections for me. I say "currently" because now that I know exactly how little they hurt, I am determined to do this myself (under his expert supervision) before we are finished. I think I'll still let him do most of them for a number of reasons. I know I have an hourglass figure, but I somehow never realized until this evening how tricky it is to look directly at my belly because my boobs stick out so far. It's a curse. More than that though, I want the Professor to be as heavily involved in this process as possible. And I like when he does stuff to take care of me. Sticking me with a tiny needle and injecting me with hormones totally counts as taking care of me, especially since I was so scared to begin with.
I was so anxious about this first shot that I couldn't even think about food when I got home from work, in spite of my hunger. I basically sat on the couch and waited for eight o'clock to roll around. I re-read the instructions that came with the injector pen. I made the Professor re-read the instructions as well. I had him recite the procedure in full detail from memory as we set up shop in the bathroom.
I pinched. He poked. We counted to five and it was over. I barely felt it.
Professor admitted after the fact that in spite of his experience at this particular task, it had been hard to do that to me, because it was ME. I assured him it really was painless and we had a good giggle about how anxious I'd made both of us.
God I'm starving! Time to order a pizza to celebrate!
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