Behind the Eggs

Before I begin today’s rant, I wanted to get some input from y’all. Some of my fellow bloggers and I are starting an IF support group for our area. The closest one is about two hours away so there is obviously a huge need for it. So I’m wondering, what would you look for in an IF support group? Any of your suggestions would be much appreciated.

Now on with the show . . .

Have I mentioned that I CAN'T STAND waiting? More than just about anything else? Except maybe having a hotel room comforter touch any part of me while I'm sleeping or the combination of fruit and meat on pizza? So perhaps that’s one of the lessons I’m supposed to learn from this whole IF roller coaster – how to be gracious in the face of waiting.

However, I am clear on two things at the moment. I do not feel particularly gracious and oh by the way I still CAN'T STAND WAITING!

I wish this period would just start already. Yes, they said it would be 2-14 days and yes, I only got the shot on Thursday but sheesh. I desperately want to be pregnant. It’s ridiculous to be anxiously awaiting a PERIOD!

It probably doesn’t help that I have $1000 worth of follis*tim staring me in the face every time I open the door of my fridge. Which was quite often this weekend, by the way. Perhaps I’ll just tuck it behind the egg carton. I’ll never see it there. (Only in re-reading this did I get the irony of storing the follis*tim behind the eggs! Isn’t infertility a hoot?)

We went to my in-laws house for my SIL’s birthday party yesterday. My MIL could give Paula Deen a run for her money. Chicken and dumplings, cornbread, green beans and corn from their garden, cheesecake and poundcake and calories oh my!

We all went outside for a few minutes after we ate. Our youngest nephew (6) was riding around on an old scooter in the driveway. It was clearly on its’ last legs, having been passed down from grandchild to grandchild for the last 13 years or so. Someone commented on that fact and my FIL said, “Well, it doesn’t have to last much longer.” It made me sad because there is a real possibility that no, there won’t be anymore grandchildren to ride that rickety thing around at Grandmother and Granddaddy’s house.

God I hate this. I hate that IF sneaks up and sucker punches you when you least expect it. But I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, huh?

And finally ladies, I know that infertility can be painful and emotionally draining but if we've learned nothing else from the last 48 hours, let us remember this:

Please do not take your frustrations out on your hair. Shaving your head is never an option. It's the middle of winter. It's cold. You lose most of your heat through your head. Step away from the razors.

Shots & Shots

I decided to go ahead and have the shot designed to bring on “the mother of all periods”. I thought, why wait till Monday, pay for another ultrasound, and then need the shot anyway? Let’s get this party started. The shot (progesterone and oil) is basically a chemical D&C, and I should start bleeding between 2 & 14 days. Once that happens, they’ll check the endometrial layer again and see where we are.

I am a little confused about something, though.

When my gyn decided to put me on Clo*mid in August, she did an ultrasound and my endometrial layer measured 1.6mm. I specifically asked about it because I have a history of hyperplasia (a thickening of the uterine layer caused by very light periods). She said that number was perfectly within normal limits for a woman my age still having a period, and I was fine to start the Clo*mid and make a baby.

My numbers yesterday were 1.6mm in one spot and 2mm in another. Yet they are talking about doing a D&C! I asked the NP about the discrepancy and she said their docs preferred the endometrium to measure between .4mm and .6mm. Well, that’s fine but one doc is saying “Go forth and multiply” and the other is saying, “You may need surgery”. I feel pretty strongly that I’d get a second opinion from the other RE in town before agreeing to a D&C, should it come to that. What do y’all think?

I picked up my folli*stim today, and took the opportunity to show our appreciation to the pharmacy tech who helped me so much yesterday. She went way beyond the call of duty and as a result saved us over $800. A $50 gift card from Dillard’s was the least we could do to thank her. She was so sweet, and told me she just knew that the medicines were going to work and that we were going to have a baby; that she’d be praying for us. I can’t really explain why, but her words meant more to me than anything even the people closest to us have said about our struggle to conceive. I’m not sure why.

The shooting in the mall in Salt Lake City a couple of days ago has shaken me up a bit. I lived in Utah for thirteen years and in SLC for five. Trolley Square was the closest mall to my home and I was there constantly. Today I saw the video taken by a mall employee during the rampage, filming out of his store and into the mall. I heard the shots, saw police race past my very favorite store, Tabula Rasa, and around the corner to exchange fire and ultimately kill the gunman. I don’t even really know what to say about it. I am chilled by it. I am sickened by it. I am saddened for the innocent people killed and injured while simply grabbing a bite of dinner or shopping for Valentine’s Day. I am baffled as to what possibly could have happened to an 18-year-old kid to fill him with such unimaginable hatred.

I know it’s a trite saying but really, what is this world coming to?

The Glamorous Life

Ladies,

Please try not to be jealous of my glamorous Valentine’s Day thus far. Let me give you the rundown.

1. Woke up at 3 AM after dreaming that the lab tech at my RE office couldn’t get blood out of my arm and had to stick me in the forehead to get it.

2. Couldn’t go back to sleep.

3. Had 9 AM appointment with nurse practitioner at RE office, including blood draw (thankfully not from forehead) and getting lucky with an ultrasound wand.

4. Felt like a dainty and delicate flower after being told, “You have an enormous uterus for someone who has never had a child.” Ummm, thanks. Can I put that on my resume?

5. Felt like a crappy dainty and delicate flower after being informed that I may not get to start injectables tomorrow because my uterine lining is about 2 times thicker than they’d like. Apparently the pro*metrium didn’t do its’ job very well. Options: a shot to increase bleeding or a D&C. SLIGHT chance we’ll go ahead with the cycle.

Why in the hell can’t I leave a gynecologist’s office just one time without another problem cropping up? (Insert curse word of your choice here. Mine begins with F.)
6. Took my prescriptions for this cycle to the pharmacy owned by the company O works for. I checked weeks ago and our $800+ worth of follis*tim was only going to be a $50 co-pay. Wahoo! Except that they couldn’t get it. They could get any other dosage but the one I needed.

7. Wonderful pharmacy tech spends 30 minutes with my insurance company trying to find out if there is another pharmacy in the area that would accept the insurance. Finds the name of one two hours away, which I am willing to drive to. When she calls them, she finds that they are now owned by my husband’s company, which means that they can’t get the drug either.

8. Call the insurance company to get additional information and expand the search area. I’m willing to drive a looonnnnggg way to save $800. They are unable to search by city or state name. They only search by zip code. How many of you have memorized the zip codes for your surrounding cities and counties? No? Me either!

10. Call the insurance company one final time and am told that they don’t work in conjunction with any other pharmacy. If they don’t have a medication and I have to go somewhere else to get it, I have to pay for all of it with no reimbursement. But they’re “really sorry”. Uh huh, bite me!

11. Call a mail order pharmacy recommended by my doctor and am told that it’s absolutely not too late to place an order for arrival tomorrow, EXCEPT they are having a huge snowstorm and can’t guarantee the meds will be here before Friday.

12. Have a “That’s it! I’ve had it!” moment and drive immediately to Hardees for a bacon and cheese biscuit. So on top of feeling emotionally horrible I then feel physically horrible.

13. Come home to make coconut cream pie for my dad’s birthday, including homemade crust. Forget that I’ve been cooking said crust in a 375 degree oven and pick up scalding hot pie plate. Please insert curse word from above here.

But, things are looking up slightly. I called my pharmacy back and talked to the tech who helped me. I asked her to call her supplier and find out if my dosage of foll*istim is just temporarily out of stock, or if they will no longer have it. Glory be, she called back and the supplier had just received a new shipment but hadn’t updated it in the computer system yet. So, it’s ordered and on its’ way for arrival tomorrow.

I really doubt I’ll need it though.

Now I’m just waiting to see if I need a shot to increase my period (which will mean racing BACK to the pharmacy, picking up the med and taking it to my SIL to give me the shot, all before my dad’s birthday party tonight) or if the doctor wants to do a D&C. (Insert curse word from above really loudly here.)

If I need a D&C, I might want my regular gyn to do it. She specializes in gyn surgery and is a bit closer to home. I also like and trust her whereas I only met with my RE for maybe 30 minutes. What do y’all think?

Shit. Shit shit shit!

On a happier note, my husband got me a beautiful bracelet and the sweetest card for Valentine’s Day, so it hasn’t been all bad.

More to follow, I’m sure. And please, try your hardest not to be jealous. Some of us are just born to live glamorous lives.

UPDATE*** No cycle this month. I'm glad they're not rushing me in for a D&C, though. They'll see how my period does for the rest of the week, recheck the ultrasound on Monday and if it's not a lot better, give me a shot that should make the next period "even bigger, even better". If that doesn't work, she recommends a hysteroscopy and probably a D&C before starting folli*stim. I'm disappointed but not devastated. I'm off to celebrate my daddy's 71st birthday.

Happy Valentine's Day to all!

Once Upon a Time

All of my fairy tale dreams came true the moment I met him. He is my knight in shining armor.

Happy Valentine's Day baby! I love you more than I have words to express.

Buttercups

I took this photo out in our backyard a few minutes ago. Aren’t the buttercups* beautiful, all bright and sunny and bursting with promise?

Me?

Not so bright, not so sunny, and definitely not bursting with promise of any kind. I am indeed the polar opposite of these hopeful little flowers at the moment.

I’m just so blue today.

I’m nervous that the Pro.metrium won’t work and my period won’t come.

I’m scared about my HSG, both the actual test and the results.

I’m lonely. I have wonderful girlfriends scattered all over the country, but only one friend locally who I can call and have some “girl time” with. I moved to O’s hometown when we got married and it’s a VERY close knit community (translated: "You're not from 'round these parts, are you?") so it’s hard to make friends. I’ve moved many times and I’ve never found it as hard to establish relationships as it is here.

I can’t seem to find a job. I have a degree in journalism but have spent most of my career managing doctor’s offices and clinics. I have to tell you, the thought of going back into management right now makes me want to crawl under my desk and stay there. It was an exhausting job. It often felt like raising other people’s poorly behaved children. I worked in the front office at a family practice just out of college and I loved it. That’s the type of position I’m looking for at the moment but they are few and far between and I am overqualified. I'm sure that not being from 'round these parts doesn't help either.

Even if I could find a job, I don’t know if I could accept it in good conscience. It would be unfair to a potential employer to commit to something and then start asking for time off immediately. I have more appointments than I can shake a stick at scheduled with the RE once this cycle gets rolling. That office is 2 hours away, which means taking a half day off for every appointment. Plus, if I get pregnant I wouldn’t work for long, and I KNOW I wouldn’t work for the first few years after our baby was born. I don’t want to commit to something that I have no intention of following through on.

For a couple of years, I’ve been thinking about going back to school and getting my x-ray tech/ ultrasound certification. But I can’t do that right now either. All of our extra money will be stuffed up my ha-ha for the foreseeable future.

I’m sad that we can’t have a dog because of my allergies. I want one. Badly. But I can’t start allergy shots in the midst of OVARYPALOOZA 2007.

I’m pissed that I can’t do what I usually do when I’m feeling blue – shop. Why? See “money stuffed up ha-ha”.

I’m also angry that I can’t partake of my other favorite stress relieving activity. Eating food. Massive quantities of food.

And of course, there is the ever-present refrain of “What the f*ck am I going to do if I can’t have a baby?” In today’s frame of mind my answer is somewhere along the lines of “Die old and alone with no one to love me.”

See, no bright, sunny, bursting with promise-ness here! No sir-eee!

You know what I think the real problem is? I feel so damned out of control. So many parts of my life are on hold for a situation that I can do NOTHING ABOUT!

NOTHING!

Sure, I can be a well-informed patient, seek the best medical care I can find, follow my doctor’s orders, and take good care of myself. But when it really boils down to it, I have absolutely no control over whether I will give birth to a baby.

Our buttercups were planted by O’s beloved grandmother about 50 years ago when they first built their home on this land. Each spring they are like a happy little gift to us, a reminder of how much his Meemaw loved her home and her family. Each spring I look at them popping up all over the yard and they make me happy. I hope that she can somehow see the pretty little house we’ve built here, and how happy O. and I are together.

But this year, looking at them makes me a little bit sad too. I can’t help but wonder if there will ever be a time, fifty years from now, when OUR grandchild will stand on that very spot and be able to say, “My great, great grandmother planted those flowers a hundred years ago.”

The thing that’s getting to me today is that I have no control over that whatsoever.

And it absolutely sucks.




(* Yes, I know they are technically daffodils, but we’re Southerners and they’re buttercups.)

Bravery

For some reason, I started reading IF blogs months before O and I ever threw the birth control away and started trying to make a baby. I believe there was some Divine intervention involved. I must have sensed on some level that we’d be walking down the very same path one day.

I spent a lot of this cold gray afternoon reading blogs – old favorites and a few new finds. In the midst of clicking from one story to another, I was struck by just how much these women have come to mean to me.

It sounds strange to some, I’d imagine. I have a fantastic group of girlfriends that I wouldn’t trade for the world, but the women who write these blogs – they are breathtaking. They are extraordinary.

They are teachers, willingly sharing their experiences and advice.

They are strong, continuing on after their hearts have been broken.

They are generous, with their lives and their stories.

They are real and raw with their anger and frustration and pain.

They are hopeful, always hopeful (well, ALMOST always!).

They are supportive and loving and kind.

And above, they are so damned brave.

I once read bravery defined as a quality of spirit that enables you to face danger or pain without showing fear. I couldn't disagree more.

If you want to see REAL bravery, look at these women whose lives have been touched by infertility. They are, in moments, absolutely scared to death and aren’t afraid to tell you about it.

Yet still they hope. Still they fight. And for those who choose to stop fighting, they find a way to go on.

THAT’S brave.

So I wanted to take a moment to thank all of the women who have touched my life by sharing their stories. I am humbled by their generosity and pray that one day each and every one will have someone to call them "mommy".

In the meantime, I am proud to call them "friend".

The Moment I Knew

One of my earliest memories is of the moment I knew I wanted to be a mommy.

I was 3 1/2 years old and we'd gone to visit my aunt and uncle who'd just had a new baby, my cousin Eric. Put simply, I thought he was SWELL!

I was allowed to look at him but not touch, though I was told that after dinner (Thanksgiving?) I could sit on the sofa and hold him!

Even as a little kid, patience was not my forte and I must have asked a hundred times if I could "hold the baby now". The answer was always the same. "Not until after we eat".

Never in the history of the world has it taken so long to prepare and consume meal. I'm still convinced of that.

But when he was finally in my arms, well, that was all it took. I was awed. I was fascinated. I wasn't quite sure what he WAS, exactly, but I knew he was magical and I wanted one.

I still feel that way.