I'm still infertile

It feels weird to be "on the other side" of the IF battle. For seven years I've been in the battlefield. Some times forgetting we were infertile and other times not being able to stop thinking about it. Being pregnant, having a baby seemed like out of reach, unattainable goals. Now I'm pregnant and it still seems foreign to me that we're going to get a real, live baby. Pregnant or not I'm still infertile, we're still infertile. Doug is still sterile and my FSH is still higher than it should be and it still took us three rounds of IVF to get here. We're not cured and we never will be, I still define myself as infertile and when we (hopefully) become parents we'll still be infertile. Infertility has been awful but in some ways it's been good. It's been good because our marriage has become stronger, we have seen and felt support and love from so many friends and family. It's also been good because when this baby finally gets here we will do our best not to take anything for granted. I know that it's going to be hard to be a parent, to have a newborn, to miss sleep and all the other things that we do with ease these days, but it's going to be worth all the pain, the money, the procedures, the tears and everything else.

Myth Busting

It's National Infertility Awareness Week and RESOLVE has this 'bust an infertility myth' thing going on and I thought I'd share some busted myths. 

Myth: Something you did caused your infertility (you are too fit, too fat, ate the wrong food, had a STD, etc.) 

Uh, no. I don't smoke, I've never used illegal drugs, I might have an alcoholic beverage once a month and I've never had sexually transmitted disease. My eggs are just crappy and the doctor has no explanation for why. My husband's infertility was caused by cancer, again not something he could control. 

Myth: People think IVF always works. Everyone who uses it is successful and has a baby. 

Wrong again. I've been through IVF twice. I have no babies. I'd also like to point out I underwent IVF #1 at age 24/25 and IVF #2 at age 29. Most women under age 35 have a 41% of a successful outcome with a single IVF cycle. Unfortunately, I was in the 59% of women under age 35% who did not have success. 

Myth: If you can't get pregnant, you can "just adopt." It's easy, quick, and inexpensive. 

Seriously? Who thinks this is true? Adoption is a difficult and emotional process for both the adoptive couple and the birth parents. The length of time for domestic adoptions from start to finish can be 12-24 months. Adoption is not inexpensive at all, domestic infant adoption can cost anywhere from $25,000-$30,000.

There are more submissions from more eloquent bloggers than I on RESOLVE's website.

The green-eyed monster

A few months ago I had a conversation with my boss, who knows about our IF troubles and is also super-caring and understanding. Anyway, we were talking about all the people at work/in my life who are pregnant and he asked me "Are you jealous?" and before I could answer he said "No, I guess you aren't really a jealous person are you." I thought about it and I said "No, not really, I mean maybe a tiny bit but not typically." Now I fully admit to having pangs of jealously about the ease with which some people are able to get pregnant but I feel like that's normal given my situation. Over the weekend I was blog-surfing and read the blog of someone I went to high school with. I wouldn't say we were friends, but we were always nice to each other. Well she's expecting her second child and she seems to be due right around the time I believe I would have been, had IVF 2.0 not ended in a chemical pregnancy. For some reason this struck me and made me jealous. Jealous because it seems so unfair that she gets to have this white-picket fence existence. Don't get me wrong, I don't want her life, I just wish it didn't have to be so hard for me.

I also read the blogs of people I don't know but who are pregnant, some of them posting light-hearted complaints about the not-so-fun parts of pregnancy. But all I could think about was how I wish I had those problems. What I would give to have morning-sickness, heartburn, swollen ankles or stretch marks. I would gladly take all of those symptoms and more if it meant I'd get to be a mother.

In the end I always go to back to the eternal question -"why isn't it our turn yet?" Haven't we waited long enough? Haven't we suffered and sacrificed enough?

The club I can't get into

I'm seventy-two days away from turning thirty, which seems completely impossible. Some days I feel like I'm still in high school. But I'm not, I'm an adult who has been working full-time since I was 19. I have a mortgage, I pay taxes, I'm closing in on seven years of marriage, I go grocery shopping, I have health insurance, I donate to charity, I'm responsible. Yet, when I'm around my friends/families with children I feel like a child myself. I don't feel like an adult, I feel younger, the way I used to feel when I was a teenager and babysat for my aunt and uncle. Being a parent seems like a special club - a club that keeps turning me away at the door. We had dinner Friday night with my family, including my sister-in-law who is a considerable amount younger than I am but she's a mother. Being around her makes me feel impossibly immature because I'm not a mother. I don't know if Doug feels the same way with his friends but I feel like I'm getting the "you wouldn't know because you're not a mother" vibe sometimes. Or perhaps I'm paranoid, that's more likely.

There is so much frustration sometimes because we've done everything we're supposed to, we go engaged, we got married, we bought a house, we've stayed gainfully employed - yet starting our own family continues to elude us. Sometimes I wonder if we should have done things backwards, would our luck have been different then? Sigh. 

I had my third acupuncture session today. I'm definitely feeling more relaxed - except when I have to choke down that godawful 'tea'. I don't know if the feeling is just in my head or what but as long as its useful I don't care. I'm currently waiting on CD1 to start, I'll probably order my meds this week, we'll be using Bravelle again. Oddly, I don't feel too much stress about the impending cycle - which is good - I think.

Anger/gratitude

I'm angry a lot. Angry at my body for not producing good quality eggs despite the fact that I've been trying to get knocked up since I was 24. Angry at the urologist/oncologist who never told Doug he should bank sperm before radiation. Angry at people who can get pregnant at the drop of a hat but don't fully appreciate it. Angry at people who have children but abuse them or don't take care of them. Angry at the insurance company for not covering any of these treatments. Angry at people who say "why don't you just adopt?" Angry that in order to adopt we'll have to jump through a thousand hoops and have someone else decide if we're good enough to be parents or not. Angry at God. Angry at myself for being angry. That's a lot of anger to carry around.

When I find myself feeling especially angry and get the urge to have an ugly cry, I do (provided I'm not out in public). Sometimes you just have to have an ugly cry, you need to get it all out - it's therapeutic.  But after the ugly cry I pick myself back up and repeat the mantra "I do not know how or when our child will arrive but I know that one day we will be parents." Because in this world of infertility, of cycle days, of shots and follicles and big, fat negatives, this is the only truth I know. Thinking about it gives me a teensy bit of solace. I also remember how much love and support I have from my friends and family. It's really hard to stay angry when you know how many people care about you. People who care about you so much that they learn IF terminology and cry with you and wish so hard for you. Even people I don't know are hoping and praying extra hard for us. How can you stay angry when you have that? Eventually the anger turns into gratitude for what we have and how much people care about us. So yes, there's still flashes of anger and sadness but I'm trying so, so, so hard to be grateful and hopeful.

Hello IComLeaveWe folks!

I've been scanning blogs from the Stirrup Queens blogroll for at least a year so I'm glad I finally gave myself a kick in the pants and joined the blogroll and decided to participate in ICLW this month.So if you found your way here from the ICLW list, welcome! 

Here's the abridged version of why I'm an IF blogger:

My husband had testicular cancer in the mid '90's, no one told him about banking sperm until after radiation when the cancer returned. So by the time he banked sperm it was radiated. Not good. Fast forward to 2005, we're married, we start seeing the RE. Husband is confirmed sterile so we only have the radiated, banked sperm to use. First IUI with Clomid is a fail, we save our pennies for an IVF cycle. March/April 2006 we do our first IVF cycle with ICSI and AH and we also find out my FSH is crazy high for a 24 year old. Great. IVF is a fail so we take a break. August 2007 we do IUI with Follistim, another big fat fail and my FSH is 12.3. WTF. We take another really long break and travel, buy a house and do fun things. Now it's May 2010, RE says "where have you been??!!?" and "I think you have a good shot at IVF success if you want to try again." So we do. FSH is slightly lower, AMH is good and AFC is also good. By fall 2010 we have the funds for IVF again, start BCP in September, get call from RE and embryologist that maybe we should consider donor sperm, as they can't find evidence of a pregnancy from radiated sperm. Okay we can do that, not our first option but we knew it was a possibility. Pick a donor, start drugs, yadda, yadda. Much better response than first IVF cycle, 10 mature eggs retrieved, 9 fertilized, 3 great looking embryos are transferred. BFP, um kinda. Beta is 22, pregnancy doomed. Beta rises to 123 and then one week later I start bleeding, miscarriage confirmed. Wallow and cry a lot for about six weeks . RE suggests we could have success with IUI with donor or IVF again but also talks to us about embryo adoption. We decide on an IUI with injectables/trigger and donor sperm, which was done on 01/11/11 (lucky day?) and now we're coming in on the end of the 2WW. Our next plan, which is subject to constant change, is another IUI with injectables/donor before a third and final IVF cycle. After that we're discussing embryo adoption/domestic adoption. We want to parents one day - regardless of how that happens.

Beyond IF, I have an awesome group of friends I love to hang out with, I bake like a crazy person, I have a knitting obsession, I work as an Executive Assistant, I'm desperately trying to find a way for us to move to the Pacific Northwest and if that wasn't enough I'm going to school part-time to finish my degree in Non-Profit Development and Administration. My non-IF blog about every day life and baking/knitting is here.

So that's that.

Over-analyzing & gambling

One of the magic awful parts of the dreaded 2WW is the part in which you over-analyze every belch, gas bubble, stomach rumble, etc. "I have a weird pang in my side - OMG am I ovulating!?" "I'm particularly belch-y today - is that a sign of implantation!?" Infertility makes you do crazy things, one of which is to became a certifiable loon and pay more attention to your body than you every thought was possible. During the IVF 2WW I found myself starting at my body in the mirror trying to decide if the veins on my chest were more visible. This is insanity, I admit it, but I did it anyway. I think it's just one of those things you know isn't useful but you do it anyway. Kind of like the weird yoga position.

I never thought of myself as a gambler. We live near a conclave of casinos and we've been a couple of times over the years but I'm always creeped out by them - too dark and smokey. Doug made me put some coins in a slot machine once just so I could say I'd gambled but that's pretty much it. But I've recently come to the realization that I am a gambler. Every time we do a treatment we're gambling. We just gambled $3,000 + on this IUI cycle with pretty poor odds. For the IVF cycle we gambled even more money, albeit with better odds, but still lost. IF treatments kind of bring about a 'high' if you will, while yes there is always a slim chance of success, odds are kind of against us given our particular brand of infertility. The 2WW is especially terrible, because you are over-analyzing every tiny thing you're body does you trick yourself into believing this could be 'it'; only to be devastated later. Veterans like myself try hard not to be pessimistic all the time, but when treatment after treatment fails and the only thing you're left with is a shrinking bank balance, it's difficult to be optomistic.

Today I had a physical with a regular doctor - the first time in forever. Mostly the only type of doctors I see are those that are keenly interested in my lady parts. But I'm getting life insurance and they like to check you out to make sure a health time-bomb isn't ticking away inside. I went to a doctor at a new, large family clinic in my neighborhood. The doctor was nice, but not really warm and fuzzy. I did mention that I was undergoing fertility treatments and there could be residual HCG in my blood/urine from the trigger shot last week. She made a note of it and then while she examined my ears mentioned that she too went through IVF and it was "very emotionally draining." Then she said my blood pressure was good, I should loose some weight and they would do an EKG since I'm concerned about my family history of heart disease in the women on my father's side of the family. The nurse came in and did my EKG, which took no time at all and then I was left to get dressed while the doctor looked at my results. Eventually the nurse reappeared and said the EKG was great and they would call with my bloodwork results. So at least the rest of my body doesn't appear to be 'broken'.

A new plan

Our follow-up with Dr. K was yesterday, it seemed to go well. We left with a renewed sense of hope - but that always happens after we meet with him. I got a copy of the cycle summary, contrary to what I thought he meant last week, I responded really well, my post-transfer estrogen and progesterone levels were "excellent" and our embryos were of great quality. He did talk about how it took a lot more medicine for me to produce than it did last time. I was taking about $500 worth of Bravelle every day for 10 days (450 units per day). That's a lot of Bravelle. The fertilization rate was excellent and overall I responded much better than I did during our 2006 IVF cycle. Unfortunately we don't know why the miscarriage happened or what caused it, sometimes they just happen. My antral follicle count in May was 17 (good) my AMH level was 1.2 (good) and my FSH was 9.21 (not great but better than it was). There's still some eggs in there, we just need to find some good ones. While we were there he had the lab call the bank we got our donor from and confirmed our donor was a proven donor (meaning someone else had gotten pregnant). No other issues came up during the cycle, everything seemed to go well, except for the miscarriage. 

After a lot of talking we've decided to do at least three IUI's with Bravelle/trigger shot and use a mixture of Doug's remaining vials and donor. I re-ordered the Bravelle/trigger yesterday from the specialty pharmacy and I'm praying we can get it for the insurance rate of $60 instead of the actual cost of $5,000. Although Doug and I are both still on the fence about using his stored sperm because we can't find any good information about the risk of birth defects with irradiated sperm. If the IUI's don't work we may consider doing a third IVF cycle. On one hand I feel like that's a massive emotional and financial risk and we should probably move on with embryo or traditional adoption. On the other hand I'm not even 30 yet and I can't let go of the idea of having a child genetically linked to one of us. That's probably selfish, but so be it. I think we'll also start gathering information on the homestudy process too. If we do go the embryo adoption route we'll need one so it's probably better to look at starting that since it takes so long because of all the paperwork.

The first thing we asked him was "when can we try again?" and the result was we need to wait at least one cycle for my body to recover. So (fingers crossed) my period will return in December and we can move forward with our first IUI in January. It seems regressive to go back to IUI after two failed IVF attempts but at least it's something. Maybe since we've never used donor with IUI we can have a better chance of success. Again I'm trying to walk the thin line of optimism and realistic expectations. I think our new plan is good, at least we'll have something going at the start of the new year. It's almost crippling for us not to have anything happening now that I'm in the "must procreate" mindset. So the plan for the next eight weeks is to relax as much as possible, continue my fish oil/prenatal/DHEA, enjoy the holidays as much as possible and get ready for January. My first meditation class was last night and I think I'm going to really enjoy it. Plus I've been to the gym three times this week so far. I feel so good after I make myself go. I want to continue the momentum so I can shed a few pounds because I'm sure that would be helpful.

So we're back to waiting, the most painful part of infertility. The journey isn't over yet, the road has just gotten longer.

The impossible dream

The other day Doug and I were talking about how most people take their fertility for granted. Most people either get pregnant without even trying or decide to try and bam - they’re knocked up. Over the past five-and-a-half-years I have become completely disillusioned; I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be able to get pregnant without involving a team of specialists in the process. Once you go through infertility and specifically In-Vitro Fertilization, you realize what an amazing miracle it is for anyone to get pregnant - ever. There are so many tiny processes that have to happen in order for the sperm and egg to rendezvous successfully and produce an actual, live baby nine months later. I told Doug that I could envision myself in law school before I could envision myself pregnant. It’s been such an out of reach dream for so long I can’t even imagine it anymore.

Tomorrow is beta day. I am 100% freaked out about it. I go in at 7:30AM for the blood draw and they’ll call us with the results by 3:00PM. I had considered doing a HPT in the morning but decided if it was negative I’d still have to go to work for four hours and be upset. Instead I’ll wait it out and once I come home at noon I’ll do a HPT and Doug and I will look at the results together.  That way if it is negative we can be together to deal.

Infertility is hard and ugly and unfair. Your heart feels broken most of the time. You spend more money than you like to think about on high-tech procedures that still don’t guarantee you a baby.  You pump your body full of drugs that you pray aren’t going to give you some awful disease in twenty years. You spend days on the verge of tears because the thing that seems to come to everyone else so easily seems impossible for you. Infertility sucks.

I’m going on ‘radio-silence’ tomorrow; we’re going to need some time to process whatever the outcome is.