As this blog has been so focused on infertility, I don't feel it's fair to change it to a pregnancy (and hopefully then parenting) blog. I don't want to do that to my readers who are still struggling, because I know that I would not want to keep reading a pregnancy blog while still fighting my own battle.
My pregnancy blog will include many more personal details (like my husband's and my first names, personal pictures, etc.) so I won't be linking my new blog in my Bump signature, and I won't be putting it here. If you know me and want to keep following my progress, send me a message (either on TheBump, via email, or in comments here) and I will make the call on who gets to have my new blog address based on who I feel comfortable sharing those personal details with as this progresses. I hope you understand!
For all of you who have read my blog thus far, thank you. You've made me feel less alone in this. You've made me feel like my path had a purpose - to share our story to others who might be a few steps behind in their own journeys. I hope so much that each of you find a similarly happy ending to your infertility journey.
The biggest guilt I feel is in leaving others behind. It's all so unfair to be infertile, and getting a positive is such a crap shoot. I feel incredibly, undeniably lucky, and so very grateful. I'm also feeling not worthy, as I know I didn't struggle as long as many others who I have rooted for and who I have seen take harder disappointments along this journey.
I owe it to all those who are still struggling to take the very best care of this pregnancy, and hopefully resulting baby. I owe it to those who are still fighting to verbally acknowledge that we fought for this pregnancy, that it didn't come easy or cheaply, to help dispel the myth that it's easy for everyone. I owe it to those who have ever fought this battle to continue to help in whatever way I can to increase infertility awareness and push for better insurance coverage and treatment options and social acceptance. I hope that I don't get pregnancy amnesia and forget how hard I struggled, how tough this all was, and how lucky I am right now.
I know there's no guarantees. As someone who waited a long time for this pregnancy, I'm well aware that pregnancy is a constant risk, of varying degrees, for both mother and child. I know that this could end tonight, tomorrow, next week, next month. I am trying to push those fears out of my mind and enjoy this, because it's worth celebrating. Today I am pregnant.
So for now, this is adieu. If this pregnancy results in a loss, I will likely resume posting on this blog. But it has come to symbolize my struggles - every time I look at the rain stained background, it reminds me of the innumerable tears that I've cried, the feeling like a cloud was following me everywhere I went as I struggled with depression and anxiety while battling infertility. I will never forget, but for now I think it's best to move forward.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I sign off with tears of happiness and apprehension and excitement and fear. I love you all, and wish happy endings for each of you.
____________________________________________________________________
Just for those who see the happy ending first and want a summary of the struggle...
TTC Timeline:
March 2012 - Off birth control
September 2012 - Started actively trying to conceive
July 2013 - Went to an RE for initial testing - SA revealed low motility (25%) and morphology (4%). No other issues uncovered. Began a vitamin regimen for 6 months.
January 2014 - After moving to a new location, went to a new RE. Repeat SA showed increased motility (78%) and morphology was untested (or at least unknown to me).
February 2014 - Unmedicated, unmonitored IUI - procedure scheduled based on OPKs
March 2014 - Femara/Follistim (33.3 iu) & Ovidrel Timed Intercourse cycle
April 2014 - Femara/Follistim (50 iu) & Ovidrel IUI cycle (natural surge so triggered early - resulted in possible chemical pregnancy)
May 2014 - Follistim (75 iu) & Ovidrel IUI cycle - BFP!!!!
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Mothers Day for a Mom-to-Be
Pregnancy warning, for my infertility readers who might be having a rough day.
Happy Mothers' Day! Something I've told my Mom and Grandmas since I was a little kid. It was never about me, it was about spoiling those who had been maternal to me.
Today, it's also my day. And that blows my ever loving mind.
My Mom and Dad sent me flowers. A beautiful, gorgeous bouquet with a sweet message: "Happy Mommy-to-Be Day! Love Mom & Dad"
My husband bought me a card and wrote a sweet message about how he is so glad that I'm going to be the mother of his children. I can't believe I have his child inside me right now! He also made me eggs benedict with homemade hashbrowns and a virgin mimosa - orange juice with sparkling water. It was super sweet of him!
Today we told my Mother-in-Law. She thought my husband was kidding when he told her. "Seriously? Are you kidding? Is this a joke? Really? For real? You're not kidding?" She was very happy, and surprised!
We're telling my sisters-in-law today, too, and my grandparents. It's a big day!
Happy Mothers' Day! Something I've told my Mom and Grandmas since I was a little kid. It was never about me, it was about spoiling those who had been maternal to me.
Today, it's also my day. And that blows my ever loving mind.
My Mom and Dad sent me flowers. A beautiful, gorgeous bouquet with a sweet message: "Happy Mommy-to-Be Day! Love Mom & Dad"
My husband bought me a card and wrote a sweet message about how he is so glad that I'm going to be the mother of his children. I can't believe I have his child inside me right now! He also made me eggs benedict with homemade hashbrowns and a virgin mimosa - orange juice with sparkling water. It was super sweet of him!
Today we told my Mother-in-Law. She thought my husband was kidding when he told her. "Seriously? Are you kidding? Is this a joke? Really? For real? You're not kidding?" She was very happy, and surprised!
We're telling my sisters-in-law today, too, and my grandparents. It's a big day!
Friday, May 9, 2014
FINALLY!!!!!
These were written earlier and held for posting, as I needed to speak personally to my Mom and several family members who read this blog before putting it out to the internet.
BFP warning to all my infertility readers. You may want to skip this entire post if that's not what you'd like to read, because it's LOTS of gushing from a newly pregnant lady!
BFP warning to all my infertility readers. You may want to skip this entire post if that's not what you'd like to read, because it's LOTS of gushing from a newly pregnant lady!
May 5th:
I just don't believe it. I was so
ready for this not to work. I was prepared, and even at peace with
taking a few months as a break and moving to IVF. I was talking
about IVF with “when” rather than “if”.
I guess this is the infertile person's
version of “it will happen when you least expect it”? I wasn't
expecting this to work.
I have to call and cancel my IVF
consultation. Wow.
We did injects and IUI this cycle. I
really just expected it not to work. I know I had as much chance as
anyone, and everything looked good – at least 2 mature follicles
and possibly a few more, thick lining, 39 million motile sperm,
perfect timing... but I just felt like it wasn't going to work. I
was prepared for IVF. It was our shot from half court at the buzzer,
fully expecting to have to go into overtime... but we made it! I
feel like we're champions!!!
My boobs were really sore starting a
few days after the IUI. And then they got less and less sore, and
with that went my hopes. I just felt like if I were pregnant, the
sore boobs wouldn't go away. I guess that's a fallacy.
And then 6 DPO, I usually get cramping
and I didn't. But I brushed it off, assuming I missed the cramping
because I was so busy doing other things.
I did a really good job of keeping busy this cycle. I didn't test until 13 DPO, at 9pm, so practically 14 DPO. A big part of that was that I was out of town from 9 DPO at 4am until 13 DPO at 9pm, and I purposely didn't bring any pee sticks with me. It was a relief to not be double guessing everything, and honestly I'm glad that I didn't have to gradually watch the line darken. I know I'd been looking forward to that, hoping to catch it as early as possible, but after last cycle's disappointment with disappearing lines, this was much easier on my soul to simply believe it was a failure. I had low expectations. It was a shock!
I had one heck of a rough day. I was
in a doctor's office this morning, and on television was The Today
Show with its week of Mothers' Day coverage. Today they had young
women announcing to their mothers that they were pregnant. So here I
was, stuck in a waiting room, not able to change the channel or leave
the room, and I just started crying softly. I've wanted so badly to
have the same announcement, and was feeling so bitter that most of
these girls probably hadn't tried very long. It won't be a huge
surprise to my mother because she's known how hard we've been trying,
and she's been a huge emotional support for me through this process.
So she knows our chances and timing. I still hope to catch her off
guard by telling her on Mothers' Day – it's going to involve lying
to her that I drank that wine tonight. I get to tell her good news
now, that just blows my mind.
Then after the doctor's office, I had
to fly home. It seemed like babies and bellies were following me
everywhere. I couldn't get away from them! Women with babies
boarding the plane behind me, seated across the aisle from a young
Mom with a newborn going to meet his grandparents for the first time.
My heart was breaking all day.
When I got to the place to pick up my
car, they informed me that the oil change I had requested had gone
terribly wrong. Apparently the last place to do my oil change (Jiffy
Lube, never again) put the filter on cockeyed so it was impossible to
pry off – they'd have to take it to a mechanic to bust the filter
so they can put a new one on. At 7:30pm, it wasn't going to happen
tonight. And 2 hours from my house, with a dog waiting for me at
home, I wasn't going to stick around. They loaned me a crappy
mini-van and promised to bring me my car tomorrow. Fine, whatever.
Then I got pulled over for a busted
brake light. Freaking great! I don't have to pay the fine, the car
owner will do that, but there's nothing quite as instantly stressful
as hearing the siren and seeing the lights flashing in your rear view
mirror. I become a 16 year old again instantly and feel pure panic
race through me that somehow I'm going to end up in jail. It's
stupid to be so anxious about it, but being pulled over is one of my
all time least favorite things ever.
So I decided I needed wine. I knew I
was going to pee on a stick when I got home, because there's no way
I'd be able to sleep knowing the sticks were only a few feet away,
and I had a strong feeling it was going to be negative. Because, you
know, my boobs don't hurt anymore. And I had period-like cramping on
11 DPO and 12 DPO, which while unusual for me, I chalked up to a
looming period.
I stopped at Publix to buy a bottle of
wine. I figured I'd pee on the stick, and when it was negative, I'd
pour myself a nice big glass and get tipsy off three sips since I
haven't drank anything since January.
I get home, drag my suitcase in, greet
my dog, and go straight to the bathroom to pee. I hadn't peed since
I got on my connecting flight, so since 5:30pm. I held it the whole
drive home. After dipping the stick, I kept the pee in the cup
rather than pour it out right away, with the thought that in the
unlikely situation it's positive, I might want to dip more sticks, so
I left the cup of pee on the counter and placed the stick across the
top of the cup to dry. I went in the room and played with my dog for
4 minutes. I meant to wait 5 minutes, but I just wanted my wine
already, so I went into the bathroom (corkscrew in hand), and was
greeted by an incredibly strong second line.
“Holy crap. Holy crap. No way!”
I look at it, trying to believe it's
real. It's SUPER dark, like nearly as dark as the control line. I
start crying, and immediately call my husband who is out of town for
work.
He knew I was testing and expected a
negative, and picked up the phone cautiously, “Hello?”
“I'm pregnant,” I blubbered
unceremoniously.
“What?”
“I'm PREGNANT!”
I don't remember the rest of the
conversation. I cried, he was happy, I was happy and kept saying,
“Oh my god” and “I can't believe it”. He said,
“Congratulations!” which feels weird, since I didn't win an
award, and besides, it's his win, too. I told him we're due in
mid-January, and I could hear him smiling.
“That's great, love. I love you
lots.”
He asked me to text him a picture of
the test. I think he thought I was imagining it, but he responded,
“I can see it!!!! <3” He was headed to bed, he needed sleep –
he's got a long day tomorrow and had a long drive today. We'll
celebrate when he gets home this weekend. I guess that bottle of
wine is now all his!
I then whipped out the expensive
digital test that I made my husband buy last cycle when I thought the
positive test would get darker. I didn't use it last cycle, though,
not wanting to see “Not Pregnant” if there wasn't enough hCG yet
so I waited and waited and then the line disappeared and my period
came, so I never used it.
This cycle is totally different! The
digital promptly popped up “Pregnant” as well, though there was
little doubt after the strong Wondfo test. I just wanted to see it.
I've waited so long to see it! And I did. And it was glorious.
For today, I am pregnant. I'm so
happy, so shocked, so overwhelmed! It's truly surreal. This isn't a
squinter like last month – this is no joke a real strong positive
pregnancy test. Two of them!
So now I get to wonder... is it
supposed to be that dark at 13 DPO? I thought it was supposed to be
lighter...
I am betting twins. Calling it now.
And that would just be karma, biting me in the butt. But you know
what? I'm so okay with that at this point. It would be really,
really hard for the first few months, but I have great family and
friends who would help, and a husband who is far more supportive than
I ever could have imagined. And once they're crawling and walking,
they'll each have a friend for life, a constant playmate. I can do
this, regardless of one baby or two.
Just please, please, please not three. Oh please, not three!
Regardless, for today, I am pregnant.
For real.
HOLY CRAP!
May 6th:
Day 1
Today is the first day that I have
woken up knowing that I am pregnant. It's totally surreal!
I announced on Trouble Trying to Get
Pregnant on TheBump, and the support brought me to tears. I will
miss those ladies and hope to see many of them finally get pregnant,
also.
I intro'd on Pregnant After
Infertility, and the women are super welcoming and nice. I asked a
question about taking a vacation early in pregnancy, and got very
helpful responses.
I also intro'd on the January 2015
board, and got some sweet welcomes from fellow ladies. I'm hoping
that board stays drama-free, but I'm fully prepared to have PAIF as
my “home board” since I want to limit the drama and stress of the
confrontational atmospheres of some of the boards.
I told a few friends today. It still
feels surreal, like I'm making up stories and it isn't for real. I
can't possibly really be pregnant. I keep waiting for the other shoe
to drop, my period to show up anyway and go, “Ha! Fooled you!”
It couldn't possibly finally have happened!
I went to Walmart to buy some sunscreen
for our vacation, and to pick up some pregnancy-friendly foods in
case my stomach gets queasy at any point and to make sure I eat
regular healthy meals. I bought Mothers' Day cards for my Mom and
Grandmas – I know it's still really early, but I want to share the
news. I can't help it! My Mom's card says on the front, “Who's
the best person on earth?” and inside it says, “Grandma!” and
some other stuff about Happy Mothers' Day. But I thought it was a
really cute way of telling her that she's got a new title! And I
bought a “present” of two books – one about “Grandma and Me”
and one about “Grandpa and Me” - they're both cute paperback
children's books, and I had them mailed to my parents.
When I told my husband last night, he
was shocked and happy. It seems to be settling in with him today,
and he went to dinner at the house of a couple who we are good
friends with from his training program last year. She's the friend
who got pregnant their 2nd month of trying, and delivered
in January. I remember distinctly a year ago when she came over for
dinner – we had just met a few weeks before and just started
becoming friends, and our husbands were gone for the week on a
training exercise. And she brought wine, but told me she couldn't
drink it because she had gotten a positive pregnancy test. Because
she was new to all of that information, she wasn't sure it was real.
I told her that a positive is real, and while there's still a chance
of miscarriage, she was definitely pregnant. Sure enough, she went
on to a healthy, (almost) uneventful pregnancy and has a very sweet
baby girl now.
I remember when she told me she got a
positive test, it wrenched my heart. We had been trying for so long
already, and I was just starting to suspect something wasn't right.
I was thrilled for her, but sad for us. I wondered if it would ever
happen for me.
Here I am, nearly one year later
exactly (give or take a few weeks), and I'm pregnant!!! Her baby
will be just about a year older than our baby, if all goes well.
So when my husband got to their house,
he convinced my friend to Facetime me so I could see the baby and be
part of their conversation. He was holding their baby, which
normally gives me pangs of longing and sadness, but today just made
me giddy. He's going to be SUCH a great Daddy!
And I asked, “Do you want to tell
them?” He responded, “No, you tell them.” I replied, “No,
go ahead, you tell them!”
My friend shouted off camera (since she
was holding it pointed at my husband holding her baby), “Tell me
what? ONE OF YOU TELL ME RIGHT NOW!” She clearly suspected!
My husband grinned and tripped over his
tongue, “Well, she took a pregnancy test a few days ago, and, well,
it kind of looks like she's pregnant.”
Squeals and screams went up as he
continued verbally stumbling, but the words “pregnancy” had been
entered into conversation and that's all it took - she knew. My
friend who was holding the camera twisted it around to “look” at
me with a huge grin of happiness. She's over the moon excited for
us, and it felt SO good!
May 7th:
Day Two
I drove up to my doctor's office today
for a blood draw to confirm pregnancy. I've been so anxious, I'm not
quite sure why. Based on strong results on the pregnancy tests I've
taken so far, I knew the beta test was definitely going to say I was
pregnant. I'm a little nervous it won't rise, but mainly I'm just
anxious by the big life change. Holy cow, it's really happening
finally!
I slept terribly again last night. All
I could smell was my husband's drool-soaked pillow. Looks like I
might need to buy new pillows! It didn't bother me before, but I've
already noticed my sense of smell is stronger. Thankfully, scents
aren't making me feel sick yet.
As I walked into my doctor's office
this morning, I couldn't help but grin at the receptionist when she
asked, “How are you?”
Trying to be relaxed, but failing
miserably, I said, “Great!”
With a knowing look, she said, “That's
a pretty big smile. It must be a good day.”
I kept grinning and said, “Yes, I
think so. I hope so!”
The blood draw was quick and I was back
out the door. I went and picked up my car – I figured since I
wanted an excuse to go get my beta anyway, I would just bring that
stupid borrowed car back to the parking facility that was holding my
car hostage. It's about 20 minutes away from my doctor's office.
I got my car, then drove to Target
(there isn't one near my house) and bought an adorable onesie that
says, “My Daddy is Cooler Than Your Daddy”. It's really cute,
and I thought it would make my husband smile when he comes home
tomorrow night! He obviously already knows, but I just wanted to
make it special. There really aren't any gender neutral baby
clothing, but this onesie is white with teal and yellow and blue
writing – it leans towards “boy” but with a cute yellow or teal
ruffle sweater would be more “girl”.
I then drove to meet two friends (who I
met through this blog!) for lunch to celebrate. It was great
spending time together, and surreal that I'm pregnant. I really,
truly, deeply hope they both find success. I know how hard it can
feel to see your friends get pregnant before you, and I hate that it
creates a new dynamic in our still new friendship. I hope we can
still support each other's journeys, and I hope so very hard that
their journeys result in pregnancies soon!
Then I went to Whole Foods to buy some
healthy carbohydrates for me, as I'm already finding the idea of
eating unappealing. I don't think it's the pregnancy yet, I think
it's just nerves. Whenever I've gotten anxious, I can't really eat
or sleep and I have stomach issues, which is exactly what's going on
now. I'm so beyond excited! And anxious, and overwhelmed, and (of
course) overanalyzing EVERYTHING like I always do! Anyway, some
bland but nutritious food would be a good thing for me right now.
Right in the middle of Whole Foods, my
phone rang. It was my nurse. My beta was 256!!!! I am definitely
pregnant, and that's a great number for 15 dpo! It's slightly on the
high side for one baby, and on the low side for two babies. So I'm
super hopeful that it's one baby, but at least glad that we're not
likely dealing with triplets or more. I'm letting myself get really
excited!!!
I then drove home. I spoke with my
parents en route and had to lie – I hate lying to them! Especially
with my Mom, I kept catching myself before I said something that
would give it away. I want to tell them so badly, but I know my
husband wants to be part of telling them, and he won't be home until
tomorrow. Plus I'd love to tell my parents when they're together,
and my Mom's out of town until Friday, I think. So we're planning on
telling them via Facetime on Friday or Saturday.
Similarly, I'm dying to tell my
brother. And similarly, my husband wants to be on that call.
With such strong initial beta test,
it's feeling more real. But still, totally surreal. It honestly
feels like a dream. I completely believe it logically, but it just
hasn't sunk in and become accepted reality. I find myself realizing
that I'm pregnant many, many times per day. I forget, and then I
remember.
We've told some close friends. It's
super exciting to share our news, and a bit scary that it's
premature. I know the standard “rule” is to wait until at least
10 weeks, preferably after 12 weeks, to make sure you're past the
risk of miscarriage. But I'm choosing to be blissfully naïve in
believing that we won't miscarry. We don't have a high chance of
miscarriage based on our age and medical history, and with such a
strong beta it's clear something's working so far, so I'll simply
deal with the worst if it happens. I'm an extrovert anyway, so I
celebrate publicly and grieve publicly. I'm terrible at keeping my
own secrets!
So now my biggest worry is twins. And
honestly, I'm no longer petrified by that. What will be, will be.
If we have twins, I will be a very difficult first few months, but I
think once they're crawling, it will be nice for them each to have a
permanent and constant playmate. The upfront challenges would pay
off with seeing my children have a bond that non-twins can't
understand, and to have my children entertain each other as they grow
up. My biggest twin-related fear is high risk pregnancy. I don't
want to miscarry, and I don't want to deliver prematurely. Granted,
I don't think there's anyone who wants those things, and it can
happen even with just one baby, but twins intensify that risk and
thus fear.
Oh, and I'm also petrified of morning
sickness. I know, that's silly. But I get motion sick sometimes,
and it causes panic attacks. When I'm sick for real, I'm fine
(uncomfortable, but no panic) but the feeling of motion sickness
causes major anxiety. I'm hopeful I avoid morning sickness, but I
doubt it. I'm hopeful some medications will make it more bearable,
if the doctor will let me take any. I'm hopeful morning sickness
doesn't ruin my vacation or my friend's wedding that I'm a bridesmaid
in next month.
I go back for another beta on Friday.
Another 2 hour drive each way, but this one is blissful and happy.
Part of me wants to ask if I can do the blood draws near home, and I
might do that for next Wednesday's since it's the day before our
vacation, but I want to see my nurse to thank her in person. She's
been a tremendous support system for me through this, and never made
me feel like a nuisance (and I was definitely a nuisance at times!).
I also want her to be the one to call me with the results. And I
want the same lab to do it so there's no discrepancies that would
make me unnecessarily worried. So 4 more hours of driving it will
be, and I will do it happily!
Then, after our vacation, we'll do an
ultrasound. Holy cow!!! I can't believe I'm going to see our baby
(or babies?) this month. My husband swears he'll get time off work
to come along. I have a feeling he'll attend as many ultrasounds as
he can. He was very nonchalant about it all, professing that he
always knew it would happen eventually, but he's definitely super
excited to become parents and go through this pregnancy. He's
already being protective, reminding me to drive extra carefully.
Sweet, loving man!
May 9th:
Day.... uh, I'm already losing track of
how many days since I've found out! Week 4, Day 3.
I told my brother last night! He was
so excited and started crying, and kept shouting, “I'm going to be
an uncle!” I swore him to secrecy as his fiancee wasn't home at
the time, and I wanted to tell her myself. He apparently kept his
secret, as I told her this morning (and she was likewise thrilled),
but in retrospect I think she realized he was indeed acting weird.
We're telling my parents tonight!!!! I
sort of already told my Dad. Okay, I definitely already told my Dad.
He cornered me (verbally, since it was over the phone!). He told me
that my Mom suspected it was a “big present” that I had mailed,
since I wanted to Facetime. And he told me that he didn't want to
let her get her hopes up if it isn't, so is it? And I said no, it's
not. And he kept pushing that my Mom suspects, and I gave up. I
told him he should try to make her not think that.
Dad: “Why? Because she'll get her expectations up and get hurt, or because you want to surprise her?”
Me: “Just try to convince her it's
not a big surprise, okay?”
Dad: “Is it a surprise?”
Me: “Maybe.”
Dad: “What kind of surprise?”
At this point I started crying and
laughing. It was probably a pretty awkward reaction.
Me: “A good surprise.”
Dad: “Are you saying....?”
Me: “Yes!”
Dad: “So... it worked?”
Me: “Yes, I'm pregnant!”
My Daddy started crying, I could hear
him sniffling and wiping his eyes.
Dad: “Wow, that's great. That's really, really great. Congratulations, sweetie, I'm so happy for you guys.”
Then he wanted to know EVERYTHING! How
I found out, how I told my husband, what tests they've done or are
going to do, and when I told him about my beta, he wanted to know
what my beta was today. My Dad is not usually that chatty or
interested, but he clearly is ridiculously excited and wants to know
everything.
I had driven up to my doctor's office,
and was on my way home when I spoke to him, so I didn't know my
results yet, so I told him that I'd tell him with my Mom tonight. He
insisted I call back and tell him, so I did.
And today's beta's were great! 612.
That's a doubling time of 38 hours! The goal is 45 hours or less,
with anything under 70 hours considered acceptable. So we've got at
least one healthy growing bean in there!
My Dad promised he would buy (and hide)
a bottle of champagne to open with my Mom once we tell them the news
tonight. I'm not sure how well he's going to be able to hide it, but
as I told him, it's not a huge deal – it's HAPPY news! I'm so
excited for her to finally know so I can talk to my parents about it
all! We're super close, and this is going to be nearly as exciting
for them as for me.
My husband and I met up for lunch, and
we then called his Dad and told him. He also sniffled a bit, but the
tough old veteran that he is, held it together very stoically. He's
thrilled, though! I'm sure once it settles in a bit, he'll chat more
excitedly about it.
We plan to tell everyone else (my
husband's mother and sisters, my grandparents) on Sunday.
This is so surreal, and so completely
amazing!
As for symptoms, I'm sleepy in the
afternoons. I have a bit of an anxious tummy in the morning, which
I'm starting to think is early morning sickness and not just nerves
because it's followed a very consistent pattern over the last few
days, and it is getting worse (whereas you'd think nerves would be
getting better). I wake up and just feel mildly hung over, with zero
appetite and stomach issues (no puking or nausea yet, thankfully, but
a bit queasy). By lunch, I feel mostly better, and by dinner all
better. And then it strikes again the next day!
I'm betting twins. I'm saying it
again. My husband doesn't think so, my nurse even thinks (or at
least says) one baby, but that's my guess.
Also, I keep referring to our bean as “she”, so I'm also guessing we're going to have a girl. Just a super early, ridiculously random prediction that has a 50% chance of being right!
(And a few hours later....)
I told my Mom! She obviously suspected, but she started crying, of course. She was so happy! It was as wonderful as I always hoped. I told her that she could call her best friend and tell her (though I was saving the announcements to grandparents for myself), and the glee she was feeling was exploding in grins and fist pumps and spontaneous happy dances and squeals.
This is wonderful. So, so, so very wonderful! It's starting to feel real. My husband keeps coming up behind me and gently resting a hand on my lower belly. It melts my heart!
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Waiting Patiently
Today is 11 DPO. I have not peed on any sticks since my IUI. This is the longest I've gone in a cycle before testing in probably 16 months or so. I won't test until the late evening of 13 DPO at the earliest, possibly the morning of 14 DPO.
I'm not quite sure how I've lasted this long. Part of me wants to drive to the Dollar Store and buy a pee stick, I'm not going to lie. But the other part of me is proud of my patience. I'm probably the least patient person you've ever met, so this is a big achievement.
I'm strangely at peace. I'm not overly anxious to test. I think NIAW was more cathartic than I could have imagined, and I'm just in a really good place at the moment. The pangs that hit from seeing pregnant women rub their bellies at the supermarket or a newborn pushed in a carriage on the street still hit, but far less severely. It's a twinge rather than gut wrenching.
I'm hoping this cycle works, but I'm not placing my bets on it. My boobs hurt for the whole first week after my IUI, and they don't hurt anymore, though my nipples are sore now. I didn't get the cramps around 6 DPO that I normally get, but maybe I was just distracted. Overall, it's been pretty much like any other cycle, though I'm not sure what I'd expect as a "sign" at this point - I've had every symptom imaginable during one luteal phase or another, and never been pregnant (except for my chemical pregnancy last cycle, but medically it's "not relevant" and is not in my chart, as my doctor does not do beta blood tests unless you have a positive home pregnancy test on 17 DPO).
I speak of IVF as if it's inevitable rather than simply likely. I think it helps me mentally to prepare for the next steps if this cycle doesn't work.
This isn't much of an entry except to say I am still waiting. And hoping. And ready for it not to work. I'm at peace, for the first time in a long time. The depression has lifted a bit, and I'm feeling a lot better than I have in quite awhile. I'm zen at the moment. It feels nice!
I'm not quite sure how I've lasted this long. Part of me wants to drive to the Dollar Store and buy a pee stick, I'm not going to lie. But the other part of me is proud of my patience. I'm probably the least patient person you've ever met, so this is a big achievement.
I'm strangely at peace. I'm not overly anxious to test. I think NIAW was more cathartic than I could have imagined, and I'm just in a really good place at the moment. The pangs that hit from seeing pregnant women rub their bellies at the supermarket or a newborn pushed in a carriage on the street still hit, but far less severely. It's a twinge rather than gut wrenching.
I'm hoping this cycle works, but I'm not placing my bets on it. My boobs hurt for the whole first week after my IUI, and they don't hurt anymore, though my nipples are sore now. I didn't get the cramps around 6 DPO that I normally get, but maybe I was just distracted. Overall, it's been pretty much like any other cycle, though I'm not sure what I'd expect as a "sign" at this point - I've had every symptom imaginable during one luteal phase or another, and never been pregnant (except for my chemical pregnancy last cycle, but medically it's "not relevant" and is not in my chart, as my doctor does not do beta blood tests unless you have a positive home pregnancy test on 17 DPO).
I speak of IVF as if it's inevitable rather than simply likely. I think it helps me mentally to prepare for the next steps if this cycle doesn't work.
This isn't much of an entry except to say I am still waiting. And hoping. And ready for it not to work. I'm at peace, for the first time in a long time. The depression has lifted a bit, and I'm feeling a lot better than I have in quite awhile. I'm zen at the moment. It feels nice!
Monday, April 28, 2014
NIAW 2014 Wrap Up
Well, that's all she wrote - National Infertility Awareness Week 2014 is now over.
I have to say that I had no idea when I started how it would go. I didn't want it to come off as preachy, but I also didn't want to let the opportunity go by to educate. Many of my Facebook friends are very involved in politics and community service and public policy (I went to college in DC, what do you expect?) so I knew it was a chance to spread the word about infertility to an audience with potential influence. Even after continually pruning my Facebook friends, I still have 552 friends. That's a potentially large audience for my posts. I wanted to capture attention without being dismissed as politically motivated or requesting pity.
I received over 200 "likes" combined between my posts, and 26 comments as of now. Several friends have messaged me to tell me that they, too, are struggling with infertility privately (or at least not on Facebook), and several others have called and texted and messaged me to express support. The response has been overwhelmingly supportive and I do believe several people are more informed now than they were before. I'll call that a win!
The best part was how cathartic it was for me. I truly feel better than I have in months after this week. I had no idea that's how it would go down. I think putting our struggle in words and out in front of the public eye was validating to all the fears and pain I've gone through. It also was my own personal soap box to pontificate on the unfairness of infertility and the various annoying and poorly informed comments I've heard throughout the process.
So here's the rest of this week's posts (I didn't get around to posting on Friday... whoops!). As always, if you are going through or have gone through infertility and would like to use some of my words in your own NIAW posts on Facebook, please feel free to do so with a big hug from me. If you are going to repost on a blog, please link back to my blog and give credit for sharing some of my words. I am happy to put our shared struggle into words, if it helps you express your own feelings on it.
Without further ado, here's the rest of my week's posts:
Tuesday:
(The paraplegic bit is not my original work. I don't know who wrote the list to give credit to, so if this is yours, please let me know in comments and I will gladly link to your original piece!)
In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I am posting each day to bring awareness to the condition and those of us fighting the good fight.
"So, what do you think people would say to you if you were paraplegic instead of infertile?"
1. As soon as you buy a wheelchair, I bet you'll be able to walk again!
2. You can't use your legs? Boy, I wish I was paralyzed. I get so tired of walking, and if I were paralyzed I wouldn't have to walk anywhere!
3. My cousin was paralyzed, but she started shaving her legs in the other direction and she could walk again. You should try that.
4. I guess God just didn't mean for you to be able to walk.
5. Oh, I know exactly how you feel, because I have an ingrown toenail.
6. Sorry, we don't cover treatment for paraplegia, because it's not a life-threatening illness.
7. So... when are *you* going to start walking?
8. Oh, I have just the opposite problem. I have to walk walk walk - everywhere I go!
9. But don't you *want* to walk?
10. You're just trying too hard. Relax and you'll be able to walk.
11. You're so lucky... think of the money you save on shoes.
12. I don't know why you're being so selfish. You should at least be happy that *I* can walk.
13. I hope you don't try those anti-paralysis drugs. They sometimes make people run too fast and they get hurt.
14. Look at those people hiking... doesn't that make you want to hike?
15. Just relax, you'll be walking in no time.
16. Oh do my legs hurt, I was walking and walking and going up and down the stairs all day.
17. I broke my leg skiing, and was on crutches for weeks, and was worried I'd have a permanent limp, but I'm 100% healed.
18. I'd ask you to be in my wedding party but the wheelchair will look out of place at the altar.
19. You're being selfish, not coming on the hike with us, and looking at all of my track & field trophies.
20. Don't complain, you get all the good parking places.
21. If you just lose weight your legs will work again.
22. If you would just have more sex, you could walk!
23. You don't know how to walk? What's wrong with you? Here let a real man show you how to walk!
24. You are just trying too hard to walk. Give up, and then you'll walk.
25. Here, touch my legs, then you'll walk!
26. Just take a vacation, and the stress-break will be sure to get you walking!
I've heard many versions of most of these comments myself. If you wouldn't say it to a paraplegic, don't say it to an infertile person. Unless you've been through the exact same thing, you don't know how it feels. And someone else's success story is not usually as hopeful or inspirational as you may think.
A simple "I am sorry you are going through this and am here if you need to talk" is plenty to support someone going through this! Anything else might be unintentionally hurtful.
Wednesday:
It's National Infertility Awareness Week, and I am choosing to post every day to raise awareness for a condition that affects 1 in 8 couples, most of whom struggle quietly. My husband and I are 1 in 8. And I don't think I have ever done anything quietly!
I wanted to take this post to mention the often forgotten warriors of this condition. As a woman, I am the victim most people think of when they think about infertility. And yes, I am the one who has to live in a body that has betrayed me, and I am hyper aware of every ache and twinge. I cannot escape it. I am the visible victim of infertility as I wear stretch pants due to swollen sore ovaries and my lower abdomen bruised from shots to stimulate my ovaries and give us a better chance at success after so long. Yet I am not the only one in this battle.
Some joke that men have it easy with this condition, and while they don't typically have dozens of needles poked into them each month, I cannot tell you how hard this has also been on my husband. Not only does he want a baby every bit as badly as I do, he also gets his hopes up right along side me each month, but then has to handle his disappointment quickly with another failure to comfort me. Yet he is unceasingly optimistic, which buoys me through my worst days.
He is my emotional rock. He holds me as I cry and gives me space to process the ugly days. He never complains about the mountains of vitamins I stuff into his weekly pill box, or the doctor appointments where he is required to attend and miss work. He balances our budget so we can afford month after month of treatment. He handles my hormonal roller coaster and my single-minded focus on our struggles with love and affection. He is delicate and loving as he carefully stabs me with a needle each night, kissing the spot after. He is insistent that he does not care how we become parents - through medical procedures, adoption, kidnapping (kidding!) - but that he knows it will happen somehow one day.
I honestly did not know my husband was nearly this wonderful when I married him. He has blown me away with his compassion and love. I just know that I would not have the strength to keep hope alive without his support, love, and strength. And I know more than ever that he will make a fabulous father one day.
Men are victims of infertility, too. They may not react openly, but this condition is tough on everyone. It is especially tough on a relationship. I am incredibly lucky to say we are weathering this storm together.
I love you and appreciate you more than you will ever know, sweetheart.
Thursday:
I have been posting every day this week for National Infertility Awareness Week. Because we are 1 in 8 couples struggling to have a child, and because infertility is not a bad word, it does not define me, is not at all shameful, and it is okay to talk about.
Today's message is a simple one. Those suffering cannot make it without the love and support of friends and family. Sometimes infertility brings former strangers together to commiserate over a painful struggle. Sometimes incredibly special friendships are created and cemented for life. For all the support we have received from so many, I say thank you. We infertiles remember who is there for us time and time again. We know we're not a lot of fun when all we can talk about is fertility treatments and depression, and we appreciate those who stick with us through the rough patches.
"Coming out" this week on Facebook has been an incredibly cathartic and therapeutic experience for me, far more than I could have imagined. To each of you who has called, texted, emailed, responded, "liked" a post, or messaged me this week, I cannot tell you how much your support means to me. Thank you for letting me share our story, and for embracing us as we struggle. To those of you who are fighting similar demons, it helps me to know we are not alone, and I hope it helps you to know that I am always here to talk or just listen or cry or celebrate when one of us finally, finally succeeds.
If you know or suspect someone is going through infertility and don't know how to talk to them about it, here's a great link to some fabulous suggestions (and I'm always happy to talk about it): http://www.resolve.org/
Saturday:
Thank you all for letting me recognize National Infertility Awareness Week. It was therapeutic for me, and I hope that I made even a little progress in getting the word out that infertility is an actual medical condition, that it's more common than you'd likely believe, that treatment is expensive and insurance in the US is woefully inadequate in its coverage for testing and treatment, and that emotional support is essential.
If you know 8 couples who have kids, chances are at least one of them took longer than a year to conceive and/or required medical intervention for it to happen. And chances are they've never told you.
If you know a couple who has been together a long time, don't ask when they plan to have kids - they very well may be struggling privately. Honestly, don't ask anyone that question. You never know what they might be going through.
If you know someone having a tough time, and they have tried on their own for 12 months (or 6 months if over 35 years old), please encourage them to see a Reproductive Endocrinologist for testing. An OB/GYN is great at pregnancy but not as familiar with the hormones and function of the reproductive system.
Don't tell someone going through infertility to "just relax" and that "it will happen when you stop thinking about it." That's not only very likely wrong, it's insulting and hurtful. If someone told you they had cancer or diabetes, you wouldn't give them that advice. It makes it sound like it's somehow their fault for not being relaxed enough. That's just simply not true.
Infertility is a real medical condition. There are always real medical reasons why conception hasn't happened (whether or not testing can uncover it). Respect that.
Infertility also does not (usually) mean barren, just less likely to conceive - anecdotal evidence of someone who tried for 8 years and finally conceived is a result of incredibly low odds replayed over and over and over and finally winning the lottery. It doesn't mean they were somehow misdiagnosed - it means they're infertile and got very lucky. It also doesn't usually give hope to other people battling infertility to hear stories like that. Avoid "I know this one person who..." stories. Usually not helpful at all.
I hope beyond hope that this is our last National Infertility Awareness Week without a baby (or at least being pregnant), but I know it's entirely possible we'll still be fighting this battle in a year. However, infertility has broken pieces of me, and while I may be able to glue it back together, I will forever wear the emotional scars, so I will always support the infertility community.
Regardless of whether we get pregnant this month or in 10 months, whether we have a biological baby or adopt, I know that this struggle will someday be resolved in some way. I look forward to that, and we will keep getting up to fight again after every time we get knocked down with another failure until we finally find an answer.
Thank you all for your kindness, sympathy, and understanding. Your support means the world to both of us. You've given me strength this week with your "likes", comments, messages, and phone calls. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I have to say that I had no idea when I started how it would go. I didn't want it to come off as preachy, but I also didn't want to let the opportunity go by to educate. Many of my Facebook friends are very involved in politics and community service and public policy (I went to college in DC, what do you expect?) so I knew it was a chance to spread the word about infertility to an audience with potential influence. Even after continually pruning my Facebook friends, I still have 552 friends. That's a potentially large audience for my posts. I wanted to capture attention without being dismissed as politically motivated or requesting pity.
I received over 200 "likes" combined between my posts, and 26 comments as of now. Several friends have messaged me to tell me that they, too, are struggling with infertility privately (or at least not on Facebook), and several others have called and texted and messaged me to express support. The response has been overwhelmingly supportive and I do believe several people are more informed now than they were before. I'll call that a win!
The best part was how cathartic it was for me. I truly feel better than I have in months after this week. I had no idea that's how it would go down. I think putting our struggle in words and out in front of the public eye was validating to all the fears and pain I've gone through. It also was my own personal soap box to pontificate on the unfairness of infertility and the various annoying and poorly informed comments I've heard throughout the process.
So here's the rest of this week's posts (I didn't get around to posting on Friday... whoops!). As always, if you are going through or have gone through infertility and would like to use some of my words in your own NIAW posts on Facebook, please feel free to do so with a big hug from me. If you are going to repost on a blog, please link back to my blog and give credit for sharing some of my words. I am happy to put our shared struggle into words, if it helps you express your own feelings on it.
Without further ado, here's the rest of my week's posts:
Tuesday:
(The paraplegic bit is not my original work. I don't know who wrote the list to give credit to, so if this is yours, please let me know in comments and I will gladly link to your original piece!)
In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I am posting each day to bring awareness to the condition and those of us fighting the good fight.
"So, what do you think people would say to you if you were paraplegic instead of infertile?"
1. As soon as you buy a wheelchair, I bet you'll be able to walk again!
2. You can't use your legs? Boy, I wish I was paralyzed. I get so tired of walking, and if I were paralyzed I wouldn't have to walk anywhere!
3. My cousin was paralyzed, but she started shaving her legs in the other direction and she could walk again. You should try that.
4. I guess God just didn't mean for you to be able to walk.
5. Oh, I know exactly how you feel, because I have an ingrown toenail.
6. Sorry, we don't cover treatment for paraplegia, because it's not a life-threatening illness.
7. So... when are *you* going to start walking?
8. Oh, I have just the opposite problem. I have to walk walk walk - everywhere I go!
9. But don't you *want* to walk?
10. You're just trying too hard. Relax and you'll be able to walk.
11. You're so lucky... think of the money you save on shoes.
12. I don't know why you're being so selfish. You should at least be happy that *I* can walk.
13. I hope you don't try those anti-paralysis drugs. They sometimes make people run too fast and they get hurt.
14. Look at those people hiking... doesn't that make you want to hike?
15. Just relax, you'll be walking in no time.
16. Oh do my legs hurt, I was walking and walking and going up and down the stairs all day.
17. I broke my leg skiing, and was on crutches for weeks, and was worried I'd have a permanent limp, but I'm 100% healed.
18. I'd ask you to be in my wedding party but the wheelchair will look out of place at the altar.
19. You're being selfish, not coming on the hike with us, and looking at all of my track & field trophies.
20. Don't complain, you get all the good parking places.
21. If you just lose weight your legs will work again.
22. If you would just have more sex, you could walk!
23. You don't know how to walk? What's wrong with you? Here let a real man show you how to walk!
24. You are just trying too hard to walk. Give up, and then you'll walk.
25. Here, touch my legs, then you'll walk!
26. Just take a vacation, and the stress-break will be sure to get you walking!
I've heard many versions of most of these comments myself. If you wouldn't say it to a paraplegic, don't say it to an infertile person. Unless you've been through the exact same thing, you don't know how it feels. And someone else's success story is not usually as hopeful or inspirational as you may think.
A simple "I am sorry you are going through this and am here if you need to talk" is plenty to support someone going through this! Anything else might be unintentionally hurtful.
Wednesday:
It's National Infertility Awareness Week, and I am choosing to post every day to raise awareness for a condition that affects 1 in 8 couples, most of whom struggle quietly. My husband and I are 1 in 8. And I don't think I have ever done anything quietly!
I wanted to take this post to mention the often forgotten warriors of this condition. As a woman, I am the victim most people think of when they think about infertility. And yes, I am the one who has to live in a body that has betrayed me, and I am hyper aware of every ache and twinge. I cannot escape it. I am the visible victim of infertility as I wear stretch pants due to swollen sore ovaries and my lower abdomen bruised from shots to stimulate my ovaries and give us a better chance at success after so long. Yet I am not the only one in this battle.
Some joke that men have it easy with this condition, and while they don't typically have dozens of needles poked into them each month, I cannot tell you how hard this has also been on my husband. Not only does he want a baby every bit as badly as I do, he also gets his hopes up right along side me each month, but then has to handle his disappointment quickly with another failure to comfort me. Yet he is unceasingly optimistic, which buoys me through my worst days.
He is my emotional rock. He holds me as I cry and gives me space to process the ugly days. He never complains about the mountains of vitamins I stuff into his weekly pill box, or the doctor appointments where he is required to attend and miss work. He balances our budget so we can afford month after month of treatment. He handles my hormonal roller coaster and my single-minded focus on our struggles with love and affection. He is delicate and loving as he carefully stabs me with a needle each night, kissing the spot after. He is insistent that he does not care how we become parents - through medical procedures, adoption, kidnapping (kidding!) - but that he knows it will happen somehow one day.
I honestly did not know my husband was nearly this wonderful when I married him. He has blown me away with his compassion and love. I just know that I would not have the strength to keep hope alive without his support, love, and strength. And I know more than ever that he will make a fabulous father one day.
Men are victims of infertility, too. They may not react openly, but this condition is tough on everyone. It is especially tough on a relationship. I am incredibly lucky to say we are weathering this storm together.
I love you and appreciate you more than you will ever know, sweetheart.
Thursday:
I have been posting every day this week for National Infertility Awareness Week. Because we are 1 in 8 couples struggling to have a child, and because infertility is not a bad word, it does not define me, is not at all shameful, and it is okay to talk about.
Today's message is a simple one. Those suffering cannot make it without the love and support of friends and family. Sometimes infertility brings former strangers together to commiserate over a painful struggle. Sometimes incredibly special friendships are created and cemented for life. For all the support we have received from so many, I say thank you. We infertiles remember who is there for us time and time again. We know we're not a lot of fun when all we can talk about is fertility treatments and depression, and we appreciate those who stick with us through the rough patches.
"Coming out" this week on Facebook has been an incredibly cathartic and therapeutic experience for me, far more than I could have imagined. To each of you who has called, texted, emailed, responded, "liked" a post, or messaged me this week, I cannot tell you how much your support means to me. Thank you for letting me share our story, and for embracing us as we struggle. To those of you who are fighting similar demons, it helps me to know we are not alone, and I hope it helps you to know that I am always here to talk or just listen or cry or celebrate when one of us finally, finally succeeds.
If you know or suspect someone is going through infertility and don't know how to talk to them about it, here's a great link to some fabulous suggestions (and I'm always happy to talk about it): http://www.resolve.org/
Saturday:
Thank you all for letting me recognize National Infertility Awareness Week. It was therapeutic for me, and I hope that I made even a little progress in getting the word out that infertility is an actual medical condition, that it's more common than you'd likely believe, that treatment is expensive and insurance in the US is woefully inadequate in its coverage for testing and treatment, and that emotional support is essential.
If you know 8 couples who have kids, chances are at least one of them took longer than a year to conceive and/or required medical intervention for it to happen. And chances are they've never told you.
If you know a couple who has been together a long time, don't ask when they plan to have kids - they very well may be struggling privately. Honestly, don't ask anyone that question. You never know what they might be going through.
If you know someone having a tough time, and they have tried on their own for 12 months (or 6 months if over 35 years old), please encourage them to see a Reproductive Endocrinologist for testing. An OB/GYN is great at pregnancy but not as familiar with the hormones and function of the reproductive system.
Don't tell someone going through infertility to "just relax" and that "it will happen when you stop thinking about it." That's not only very likely wrong, it's insulting and hurtful. If someone told you they had cancer or diabetes, you wouldn't give them that advice. It makes it sound like it's somehow their fault for not being relaxed enough. That's just simply not true.
Infertility is a real medical condition. There are always real medical reasons why conception hasn't happened (whether or not testing can uncover it). Respect that.
Infertility also does not (usually) mean barren, just less likely to conceive - anecdotal evidence of someone who tried for 8 years and finally conceived is a result of incredibly low odds replayed over and over and over and finally winning the lottery. It doesn't mean they were somehow misdiagnosed - it means they're infertile and got very lucky. It also doesn't usually give hope to other people battling infertility to hear stories like that. Avoid "I know this one person who..." stories. Usually not helpful at all.
I hope beyond hope that this is our last National Infertility Awareness Week without a baby (or at least being pregnant), but I know it's entirely possible we'll still be fighting this battle in a year. However, infertility has broken pieces of me, and while I may be able to glue it back together, I will forever wear the emotional scars, so I will always support the infertility community.
Regardless of whether we get pregnant this month or in 10 months, whether we have a biological baby or adopt, I know that this struggle will someday be resolved in some way. I look forward to that, and we will keep getting up to fight again after every time we get knocked down with another failure until we finally find an answer.
Thank you all for your kindness, sympathy, and understanding. Your support means the world to both of us. You've given me strength this week with your "likes", comments, messages, and phone calls. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Monday, April 21, 2014
NIAW: Day 2
I'm choosing to post daily during National Infertility Awareness Week to make my voice as loud as possible to show people that infertility affects real people.
Today I posted another post on Facebook. There's about half as many "likes" as when I "came out" yesterday, and absolutely zero comments, but I hope some people read it and learned something, and maybe I made a small step towards changing someone's view towards mandating insurance coverage for infertility.
This is what I posted today:
In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I will be posting a brief topic of interest each day on the subject to support my fellow infertility warriors.
Today I want to touch on insurance coverage. In 13 states, infertility coverage is mandated by law. For people who find themselves incapable of conceiving on their own, this is a huge relief. For those of us who don't live in those states, or whose insurance has a loop hole, the cost of trying to have a child can be overwhelming.
I want everyone to stop and think - what if you were told you had cancer, and only a 5% chance of spontaneous remission each month without treatment, with a cumulative 20-30% chance of long term survival. Testing alone costs upwards of $3000. Then there's a procedure that cost $3000 each month which would give you a 20% chance of being cured each month, with a maximum of 60% chance of cure after 4-5 months. Or you can pay $10-15k for an invasive surgical procedure with 50% chance of being cured, which you can try repeatedly with a cumulative 85% chance of remission regardless of how many times you try.
You'd want insurance to help you pay for that, so you can survive, right? Well, for the vast majority of couples facing infertility, their insurance covers little to none of that.
I know some of you are thinking, "But having a baby isn't life or death!" For those of us who have always dreamed of being parents, sometimes it feels like it's life or death. The depression rates for infertility patients is at the same level as those who have been diagnosed with terminal cancer.
I ask all of my friends who have children to imagine that someone kidnapped your child, and told you to cough up $10-30k for an 80% chance of having that child returned to you. Dreadful, right? That's the stuff of nightmares. Well, right now, for infertile couples, that's pretty much the options they face. Pay the money or risk never seeing your child be born.
The chance of having a child is essentially financial Russian Roulette. How many times can we afford to try before we bankrupt ourselves? Can we refinance our home? Can we max out credit cards? Can we beg family for private loans? At what point does continuing to try to have a child of our own become financially irresponsible? Are we willing and able to spend another $10-30k to adopt after failed treatments?
Insurance companies that cover these services are able to negotiate discounted rates with providers up to 60% cheaper than what their clients who pay themselves are charged. Having access to treatment at an affordable price can alleviate much of the stress and panic of finding yourself diagnosed infertile.
Having a child should not be a privilege of the wealthy and fertile. Infertility is a serious medical condition, and should be treated as such by laws mandating insurance coverage across this country.
#niaw2014 #infertility
Today I posted another post on Facebook. There's about half as many "likes" as when I "came out" yesterday, and absolutely zero comments, but I hope some people read it and learned something, and maybe I made a small step towards changing someone's view towards mandating insurance coverage for infertility.
This is what I posted today:
In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I will be posting a brief topic of interest each day on the subject to support my fellow infertility warriors.
Today I want to touch on insurance coverage. In 13 states, infertility coverage is mandated by law. For people who find themselves incapable of conceiving on their own, this is a huge relief. For those of us who don't live in those states, or whose insurance has a loop hole, the cost of trying to have a child can be overwhelming.
I want everyone to stop and think - what if you were told you had cancer, and only a 5% chance of spontaneous remission each month without treatment, with a cumulative 20-30% chance of long term survival. Testing alone costs upwards of $3000. Then there's a procedure that cost $3000 each month which would give you a 20% chance of being cured each month, with a maximum of 60% chance of cure after 4-5 months. Or you can pay $10-15k for an invasive surgical procedure with 50% chance of being cured, which you can try repeatedly with a cumulative 85% chance of remission regardless of how many times you try.
You'd want insurance to help you pay for that, so you can survive, right? Well, for the vast majority of couples facing infertility, their insurance covers little to none of that.
I know some of you are thinking, "But having a baby isn't life or death!" For those of us who have always dreamed of being parents, sometimes it feels like it's life or death. The depression rates for infertility patients is at the same level as those who have been diagnosed with terminal cancer.
I ask all of my friends who have children to imagine that someone kidnapped your child, and told you to cough up $10-30k for an 80% chance of having that child returned to you. Dreadful, right? That's the stuff of nightmares. Well, right now, for infertile couples, that's pretty much the options they face. Pay the money or risk never seeing your child be born.
The chance of having a child is essentially financial Russian Roulette. How many times can we afford to try before we bankrupt ourselves? Can we refinance our home? Can we max out credit cards? Can we beg family for private loans? At what point does continuing to try to have a child of our own become financially irresponsible? Are we willing and able to spend another $10-30k to adopt after failed treatments?
Insurance companies that cover these services are able to negotiate discounted rates with providers up to 60% cheaper than what their clients who pay themselves are charged. Having access to treatment at an affordable price can alleviate much of the stress and panic of finding yourself diagnosed infertile.
Having a child should not be a privilege of the wealthy and fertile. Infertility is a serious medical condition, and should be treated as such by laws mandating insurance coverage across this country.
#niaw2014 #infertility
Sunday, April 20, 2014
National Infertility Awareness Week 2014
Today is Easter... and it's also 4/20, as my youngest sister-in-law reminded me this afternoon.
But it's also something else, something that means a great deal to me this year.
It's the first day of National Infertility Awareness Week 2014.
Unfortunately, this is a battle we've been personally trying to overcome for nearly two years now. There's a lot of misinformation out there about infertility, so I am choosing to step out of the shadows to bring a face to the experience. If you have any questions, I am happy to try to answer them. Please be kind and considerate in your comments, because while I'm open about our struggles, it's still incredibly difficult for me to go through this, and there are others who struggle more privately with the same condition.
Myths I have heard:
- "You're too young to be infertile!" - infertility is defined by the medical community as failure to achieve pregnancy after one year without prevention. For a woman under 30 like myself, 1 in 10 will find herself in that position. While there are increasing challenges as you age, infertility can strike at any age.
- "Can't they just fix what's wrong?" - in about 1/4 of the cases, infertility can be attributed to female issues, in about 1/4 of the case, it can be attributed to male issues. For 1/4 of infertile couples, both male and female issues contribute. And for 1/4 of couples (like us), no determinable reason can be found after extensive testing. For most causes they can uncover, there is no sure fix. It is a game of risks and chances, all of which are expensive, time consuming, and painful (emotionally and physically).
- "So if nothing's wrong, it'll happen as soon as you relax and don't think about it!" - this is one of the most hurtful pieces of "advice". Something is wrong, but tests are limited in what they can determine as a cause. I could go on and on about what could potentially be wrong, and what our chances of success would be with each, but none of them are going to "answer" our problem.
- "Just relax, it will happen eventually!" - doctors have proven that the "spontaneous cure rate" (or the "it just happened rate") is less than 5% per month. Over the course of 2 more years, someone our age with no explained cause of infertility has only a 20-30% chance of success.
- "Just do that IVF thing, or adopt!" - there is a grieving process to not having this happen as easily as it seems to happen for just about everyone else. Each month hurts like a loss as we dare to hope it will finally happen. Financially, most insurance carriers cover little to nothing for treatment. We have to pay around $1,000 per month right now, with thankfully some coverage, for only a 20% chance of success. If this doesn't work, we will indeed move on to IVF later this year, which will cost close to $10,000 and give us only about a 50% chance of success. That's a lot of money for not very good chances. But we're willing to continue to try, because we still dream of a baby who has my husband's nose and my eyes. If we lose that dream, we will gladly move on to other ways of building our family because we desperately want to be parents, but that's another grieving process that we have yet to go through.
For anyone wondering how to speak to someone going through infertility, RESOLVE's "Infertility Etiquette" page is a great place to start. If anyone has any questions for me, as I said, I'm happy to answer them. To those who are battling this alongside me, my heart goes out to you and I am always here to talk and be a shoulder to cry on.
However, I knew by opening up that I couldn't control the response I got, and that while everyone seems to be well intentioned, many attempts at support can be misguided and end up hurting more than helping. I'm in a good place emotionally today to handle whatever comes, so it was a good time to do this for me.
And speaking of infertility treatment, I had my final monitoring appointment yesterday morning. A nice plushy lining right around 10mm. I had a VERY active right ovary - there were 6 of measurable size. One dominant was just under 20 mm, the smallest was around 11 mm. Most were between 11-13mm, but one was 15mm. There were a handful of smaller follicles that weren't in play, but make me hopeful that if I do move on to IVF with its higher dose of gonadotropins, that I will likely have a very good response. On my left ovary, there was one measurable one at 16 mm, and a handful of tiny ones.
All together, we're looking at around 7 follicles that could be of big enough size by ovulation, and around 17-18 total follicles. Wowza! I'm super sore, I feel like someone tucked water balloons under my belly button and filled them up. Even lifting my legs to get into the car, I can feel the swollen portion of my lower abdomen with my thighs. It's weird and uncomfortable. Not outright painful usually, though walking around for awhile ends up rather uncomfortable. It's a similar sensation to when you have strep throat and your glands in your throat swell and ache and are sore to the touch. Except in my lower abdomen.
My E2 levels were around 190 on Thursday (two days earlier) with only one follicle over 15 mm. So I'm guessing it didn't shoot through the roof or the doctor would have cancelled the cycle for a likely over-response and higher risk of higher order multiple pregnancy. Still, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slightly concerned about a multiple pregnancy here. It's definitely a risk factor this cycle.
However, on the flip side, with all the failed cycles I've had so far, I feel relatively confident that we won't get every single egg. I'm just hoping for one (or two... heaven help me, I'd be happy for two at this point, though twins have never been my dream) to fertilize and stick.
Also, with so many follicles, and a plushy lining, if this cycle doesn't work, I think I'll be all the more confident that moving on to IVF is the right decision. If this doesn't work, I don't know that we have much hope with continued IUIs.
The doctor told me to do one more shot of Follistim 75 iu at 6pm last night, and trigger tonight at 10:30pm for an IUI on Tuesday at 9:30am.
I'm hopeful that it seems like there's at least 3 follicles, hopefully not many more, that are in play. We have a really good chance this cycle! This could be it!
And if not, I think I'll be okay. I'll be disappointed for sure, and I won't promise that I won't cry, but overall I'm doing really well with the current plan. A break would be nice, and I have already been verbally brainstorming with my husband about which alcoholic beverages I would want after a failed cycle (Margarita Day might replace Mothers Day for me this year, and I'd be hitting up the microbrew section of the local grocery store with enthusiasm). And after that much needed break, I have high hopes that IVF (or FETs from the fresh IVF cycle) will hold our answer and our long awaited dream.
Here's hoping that this is my list National Infertility Awareness Week without a baby (or at the least, being pregnant this time next year)! I hope the same for all of my lovely readers who are struggling with the same battle.
But it's also something else, something that means a great deal to me this year.
It's the first day of National Infertility Awareness Week 2014.
I remember last year reading about it, and thinking that it would never apply to me. I was about 7 months into trying to get pregnant, and filled with optimism that we would certainly be pregnant within the year mark.
Not so.
As of today, we've been off birth control over 2 years. We've been actively trying for 598 days, which is a little over 85 weeks. It's also 1 year, 7 months, and 21 days.
No pregnancies. We had the likely chemical pregnancy last cycle, so for two whole days I got to believe this might have finally happened for us. But like a good dream where I have a pregnant belly or a baby, I woke up and it was gone and I was back to the nasty reality of infertility.
I have stabbed myself (or my husband has stabbed me) in the belly with a needle 22 times (so far).
I have gone through 21 cycles of hope and disappointment.
I can't count how many times I've cried. I started crying around the end of my 8th cycle or so, and while it hasn't been consistent, I have a bad day or week around the end of each cycle ever since.
There's been probably a half dozen body-wracking sob fests. My husband and my mother and my dear friends Hannah & McKenzie have been on the receiving end of some of the worst moments of my life, when the emotional pain became physical and I felt hopeless and miserable.
I feel like I lost 2013. The entire year just went missing, somewhere between Cycle Day 1 and Ovulation and the Two Week Wait. I have wished my life by in 2 week increments, hoping for a different end than the one I've seen over and over and over each time we try.
Dozens upon dozens of friends have gotten pregnant and delivered in the meantime. A few have even gone on to conceive second children. Each Facebook pregnancy announcement or adorable baby picture is like another dash of salt in the wound.
As we started testing and treatment, I gradually started becoming more open about our struggles. At this point, I'll tell anyone. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned our infertility to a grocery store check out lady at some point. Not the nitty gritty, but just a simple statement of fact that we're having trouble conceiving or we're going through infertility treatment. With friends, I'm open about the process and the cost.
Today, as the start of National Infertility Awareness Week, I took it one step further. I came out about our struggles on Facebook.
Here is what I posted:
Today is not just Easter (Happy Easter!)... it is also the beginning of National Infertility Awareness Week.
Myths I have heard:
- "You're too young to be infertile!" - infertility is defined by the medical community as failure to achieve pregnancy after one year without prevention. For a woman under 30 like myself, 1 in 10 will find herself in that position. While there are increasing challenges as you age, infertility can strike at any age.
- "Can't they just fix what's wrong?" - in about 1/4 of the cases, infertility can be attributed to female issues, in about 1/4 of the case, it can be attributed to male issues. For 1/4 of infertile couples, both male and female issues contribute. And for 1/4 of couples (like us), no determinable reason can be found after extensive testing. For most causes they can uncover, there is no sure fix. It is a game of risks and chances, all of which are expensive, time consuming, and painful (emotionally and physically).
- "So if nothing's wrong, it'll happen as soon as you relax and don't think about it!" - this is one of the most hurtful pieces of "advice". Something is wrong, but tests are limited in what they can determine as a cause. I could go on and on about what could potentially be wrong, and what our chances of success would be with each, but none of them are going to "answer" our problem.
- "Just relax, it will happen eventually!" - doctors have proven that the "spontaneous cure rate" (or the "it just happened rate") is less than 5% per month. Over the course of 2 more years, someone our age with no explained cause of infertility has only a 20-30% chance of success.
- "Just do that IVF thing, or adopt!" - there is a grieving process to not having this happen as easily as it seems to happen for just about everyone else. Each month hurts like a loss as we dare to hope it will finally happen. Financially, most insurance carriers cover little to nothing for treatment. We have to pay around $1,000 per month right now, with thankfully some coverage, for only a 20% chance of success. If this doesn't work, we will indeed move on to IVF later this year, which will cost close to $10,000 and give us only about a 50% chance of success. That's a lot of money for not very good chances. But we're willing to continue to try, because we still dream of a baby who has my husband's nose and my eyes. If we lose that dream, we will gladly move on to other ways of building our family because we desperately want to be parents, but that's another grieving process that we have yet to go through.
For anyone wondering how to speak to someone going through infertility, RESOLVE's "Infertility Etiquette" page is a great place to start. If anyone has any questions for me, as I said, I'm happy to answer them. To those who are battling this alongside me, my heart goes out to you and I am always here to talk and be a shoulder to cry on.
Feedback so far has been overwhelmingly supportive. I've had many friends "Like" and comment on my post, all to express support.
Only one has tried the whole, "I know someone who struggled and eventually got pregnant!" comment, and one other has suggested I read "Taking Charge of Your Fertility" (which, while a good book for those initially struggling to make sure they've tried their best on their own, is not going to solve our infertility at this point and I'm very much aware of all of the book's suggestions - I could probably write a sequel at this point). I'm glad at least no one has suggested lifting my hips up after sex, or eating gluten free, or taking cold showers (all suggestions I've heard in the past).
While I appreciate the comments as friends genuinely trying to be supportive and helpful, what many don't realize is that it's not so helpful. For infertiles, someone else's story is anecdotal at best and not reflective of our own journey. Simply because someone else got pregnant eventually does NOT mean that I will, too. I also don't need to learn more about my cycle to get pregnant - I am seeing a doctor who is controlling every aspect of my cycle. Even if I were checking basal body temperature, during a medicated cycle it's pointless.
And speaking of infertility treatment, I had my final monitoring appointment yesterday morning. A nice plushy lining right around 10mm. I had a VERY active right ovary - there were 6 of measurable size. One dominant was just under 20 mm, the smallest was around 11 mm. Most were between 11-13mm, but one was 15mm. There were a handful of smaller follicles that weren't in play, but make me hopeful that if I do move on to IVF with its higher dose of gonadotropins, that I will likely have a very good response. On my left ovary, there was one measurable one at 16 mm, and a handful of tiny ones.
All together, we're looking at around 7 follicles that could be of big enough size by ovulation, and around 17-18 total follicles. Wowza! I'm super sore, I feel like someone tucked water balloons under my belly button and filled them up. Even lifting my legs to get into the car, I can feel the swollen portion of my lower abdomen with my thighs. It's weird and uncomfortable. Not outright painful usually, though walking around for awhile ends up rather uncomfortable. It's a similar sensation to when you have strep throat and your glands in your throat swell and ache and are sore to the touch. Except in my lower abdomen.
My E2 levels were around 190 on Thursday (two days earlier) with only one follicle over 15 mm. So I'm guessing it didn't shoot through the roof or the doctor would have cancelled the cycle for a likely over-response and higher risk of higher order multiple pregnancy. Still, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slightly concerned about a multiple pregnancy here. It's definitely a risk factor this cycle.
However, on the flip side, with all the failed cycles I've had so far, I feel relatively confident that we won't get every single egg. I'm just hoping for one (or two... heaven help me, I'd be happy for two at this point, though twins have never been my dream) to fertilize and stick.
Also, with so many follicles, and a plushy lining, if this cycle doesn't work, I think I'll be all the more confident that moving on to IVF is the right decision. If this doesn't work, I don't know that we have much hope with continued IUIs.
The doctor told me to do one more shot of Follistim 75 iu at 6pm last night, and trigger tonight at 10:30pm for an IUI on Tuesday at 9:30am.
I'm hopeful that it seems like there's at least 3 follicles, hopefully not many more, that are in play. We have a really good chance this cycle! This could be it!
And if not, I think I'll be okay. I'll be disappointed for sure, and I won't promise that I won't cry, but overall I'm doing really well with the current plan. A break would be nice, and I have already been verbally brainstorming with my husband about which alcoholic beverages I would want after a failed cycle (Margarita Day might replace Mothers Day for me this year, and I'd be hitting up the microbrew section of the local grocery store with enthusiasm). And after that much needed break, I have high hopes that IVF (or FETs from the fresh IVF cycle) will hold our answer and our long awaited dream.
Here's hoping that this is my list National Infertility Awareness Week without a baby (or at the least, being pregnant this time next year)! I hope the same for all of my lovely readers who are struggling with the same battle.
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