Why do people insist on telling me that I need to relax and I will get pg? If it were that easy we'd have a whole soccer team by now!
Growing up, there were 4 of us girls who all went to school together and have known each other since kindergarden. Our parents are also friends. So this weekend was one of the girls (J's) father's 60th birthday party. J and her sister, G, both have kids...this I knew going in...didn't bother me. What bothered me was that our parent's sat there and passed pictures of their grandkids around. My poor mother (who knows our IVF woes) and one other mother didn't contribute to the picture parade. When my mom was asked if I had kids (right in front of me by the way, couldn't they just ask me) she said no, but that we were working on it.
In my pissed off state, I decided to chime in and say that we are seeking medical assistance...to which I get, from not one, but THREE people...oh just relax and it will happen...I know so and so was having issues and they did this and they got pg! UUGGHH I wanted to strangle them!! Why do people insist on putting their 2 cents in when it's not asked for or wanted?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
I wonder...
I wonder what it will be like to see those 2 pink lines
I wonder what it will feel like to first know you are there, growing big & strong inside me
I wonder if I will cry out with joy when I first hear your heartbeat...this I can guarantee
I wonder when I'll first get to feel you move and kick...where will I be?
I wonder if you will look like me, or like your daddy, or like whomever first gives you life
I wonder about your birthday and cry when I think of how happy I will be when you are laid upon my chest.
I wonder when I will be able to hold you in my arms and inhale your sweet baby scent
I wonder when I'll be able to look into your eyes and see your sweet smile
I wonder when you will decide to come into our lives...we think of you often...
I wonder what it will feel like to first know you are there, growing big & strong inside me
I wonder if I will cry out with joy when I first hear your heartbeat...this I can guarantee
I wonder when I'll first get to feel you move and kick...where will I be?
I wonder if you will look like me, or like your daddy, or like whomever first gives you life
I wonder about your birthday and cry when I think of how happy I will be when you are laid upon my chest.
I wonder when I will be able to hold you in my arms and inhale your sweet baby scent
I wonder when I'll be able to look into your eyes and see your sweet smile
I wonder when you will decide to come into our lives...we think of you often...
Should weight be an issue in adoption?
Someone on another board posted this article. Should weight come into play when deciding if someone can be a proper caregiver to a child? In my opinion, it can go either way. If someone who is morbidly obese and unable to care for themselves, then I would say they shouldn't be able to adopt a child...if they can't care for themselves how can they care for a baby? But a person who is still active and generally healthy...in this man's case...then I don't think weight should play into it. It's a fine line...China has restrictions on weight to adopt internationally...no one is in uproars over that. Is it discrimination when a judge in our country rules that weight is an issue but not when China does? Would love to hear other's ideas...
Tired of rain...
DH and I live in a new construction community...and with that comes dirt, lots of dirt...and with lots of rain, that dirt turns into mud...not just wet dirt, but the kind of mud that when you step in it, you actually are sucked down into the ground. It's been raining here almost everyday for the last 2 weeks...and we're not talking a spring shower here...terrential downpours with all the thunder and lightning you can handle, tornado warnings, flood watches...you get the idea.
Yesterday was garbage day, so when I got home from work I decided I'd take the can from the street to the yard where we keep it. It was only drizzling at this point, though I knew from the black storm clouds that it was going to get much much worse. As I'm taking the can into the yard, I'm being sucked into the ground by all the mud and yuck that is currently our yard. I realized at that point that we were missing one of our patio chairs. Now, our yard is fenced, so for a patio chair to be missing means either someone took one, or the wind was so bad earlier that it blew away. You can guess that the answer is the latter.
I located our patio chair in our neighbor's yard and proceeded to retrieve it, only to turn around and SEE the wall of rain coming through the yards towards me. Now usually when it rains it starts as a few drops then proceeds to get progressively worse...not yesterday...as that wall of water came towards me, I could hear it moving...like a live animal stalking it's prey. I was doomed. As I tried to run back around to the front of the house, all the while the mud wants me to stay in one place, the wall hit. In the 30 seconds I was in the actual downpour I was soaked to the core. Underthings and all. Drenched. I looked like a drowned rat.
It got so bad yesterday that the emergency sirens went off and continued their ear piercing warning for about 45 minutes. As my dog and I hunkered down in the basement, all I could say to myself was "There's no place like home, There's no place like home".
The aftermath wasn't too bad...a lot of LARGE puddles, but thankfully, since we are in a new construction community, there weren't the large tree limbs falling that there were in other nearby suburbs.
What's the point of this post? There isn't one. There isn't anything new to report on the IF front, so I figured I talk about my experience with the weather front. God I just LOVE the Midwest!
Yesterday was garbage day, so when I got home from work I decided I'd take the can from the street to the yard where we keep it. It was only drizzling at this point, though I knew from the black storm clouds that it was going to get much much worse. As I'm taking the can into the yard, I'm being sucked into the ground by all the mud and yuck that is currently our yard. I realized at that point that we were missing one of our patio chairs. Now, our yard is fenced, so for a patio chair to be missing means either someone took one, or the wind was so bad earlier that it blew away. You can guess that the answer is the latter.
I located our patio chair in our neighbor's yard and proceeded to retrieve it, only to turn around and SEE the wall of rain coming through the yards towards me. Now usually when it rains it starts as a few drops then proceeds to get progressively worse...not yesterday...as that wall of water came towards me, I could hear it moving...like a live animal stalking it's prey. I was doomed. As I tried to run back around to the front of the house, all the while the mud wants me to stay in one place, the wall hit. In the 30 seconds I was in the actual downpour I was soaked to the core. Underthings and all. Drenched. I looked like a drowned rat.
It got so bad yesterday that the emergency sirens went off and continued their ear piercing warning for about 45 minutes. As my dog and I hunkered down in the basement, all I could say to myself was "There's no place like home, There's no place like home".
The aftermath wasn't too bad...a lot of LARGE puddles, but thankfully, since we are in a new construction community, there weren't the large tree limbs falling that there were in other nearby suburbs.
What's the point of this post? There isn't one. There isn't anything new to report on the IF front, so I figured I talk about my experience with the weather front. God I just LOVE the Midwest!
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
My furry son...
So this is my furry boy, Sox. This picture was taken about 3 years ago when he first came to live with us. He looks so happy here. When we first saw Sox in his cage at a local animal control, he cowered in the corner and looked so pitiful...like he had given up all hope. DH initially didn't want to consider him, but something in his eyes made me want to take him outside and play. Once outside, he was a different dog...playful and obedient...even rolled onto his back for a belly rub! Turns out, his first family wasn't very kind to him. When we first brought him home, he would run away if we rolled up a newspaper to swat a fly. After lots of work and lots and lots of love, he's the most loyal companion we've ever had. Spoiled rotten too. But he's an "only" and you know what they say about "only's"...
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
History...
So the purpose of this blog is to vent, whine, cry and swear at the world of infertility...but it occurred to me that no one would know why I am such a bitter bitch when it comes to IF unless I explain (not that I give a rat's ass what people think). So DH and I have known each other since we were 15...at 27 (in 2003) he finally decided that he wanted to settle down...low and behold he chose me. In January of 2004, I stopped bcp...I was 27 years old...had no reason to believe we would have problems conceiving. Had I known then what I know now, I would have saved all the money I spent on bcp!
I digress, we proceeded to try to have a baby the natural way...with no success. In 2005 I began to chart my temps and check my mucus every month...when that didn't work, we made an appointment to see urologist for DH to get a sperm analysis done. We had no reason to think that the problem would be with me...I'd had what I considered regular periods since I was 13...every 28 - 32 days...with an occasional longer cycle that I attributed to stress or some other live event going on at that point. The results of the SA were not good...but they weren't horrible. DH had low sperm counts, but the urologist stated that there was no reason that we couldn't concieve...it just might take longer than normal.
When we weren't pregnant by 2006, we decided that we should seek additional medical help. Now this is where I start to regret my choices. We weren't the most knowledgeable on RE's...had no idea how to find one. I asked my general practitioner, who was also my gyne, and he really didn't know...I called around to some obs and none could recommend anyone for us to go see. We ended up searching on our insurance website for RE's and picked one that "sounded good". She had studied at Harvard and had high reviews by other insurance holders who chose her.
My first appointment I was alone...DH couldn't get off work...and so nervous. That was in May 2006. I remember her saying that "we will get you pregnant"...OMG was I naive to believe and fall for that hook, line and sinker. I quickly made an appointment to have the recommended tests run...my HCG, endometrial biopsy, and glucose tolerance test were all scheduled before the end of May...before DH even had a chance to meet her.
My HCG revealed slight blockages in both my tubes that were "blown out" during the most hideously painful 10 minutes of my life. My biopsy was good, and my glucose test showed slight insulin resistance. She diagnosed me as PCOS...Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I was put on Metformin and fish oils and told to keep trying naturally. In September 2006, I had ovarian drilling surgery, which I now believe was a complete waste of money and time. I noticed nothing different after the surgery than before...except that I was very weepy for about a week...but that could have been due to the fact that I felt like I'd been socked in the gut.
My RE suggested IVF...we told her we weren't ready to take that step yet and we would wait a few months for me to heal properly...we also had just sold our townhouse and were living with the in-laws at the time...we wanted to wait until we had our house...we really thought IVF would work the first time. Ha!
I called my RE's office in February of 2007...
"We're ready to start IVF with Dr so and so" I said
"Oh, Dr so and so left the practice in October" said the know it all receptionist
What the fuck!!
"Didn't you receive the letter we sent to all her patients" she continued
"Um, no, I didn't" (obviously) I said
"Well she did...you can see Dr pain in the ass though"
"Um, ok?"
I should have known from that conversation that things would not go well. Don't get me wrong, I didn't almost die or anything, but things just didn't go how I thought they would. I was put back on bcp when I started my period at the end of February...and started stims in April. During all my monitoring appts I was never told how many follies I had, never told how large they were...didn't know that I was supposed to be told those things until I joined an IVF board and all the other women were talking about follie size. On April 26th, Dr pain in the ass retrieved 23 eggs from me...16 of which were mature. None fertilized initally. We were devasted...we told the embyrologist that if there were no good signs we weren't going to transfer. On April 30th, the office called me and patched in Dr Egg (the embryologist)...3 eggs had fertilized...very slowly. There were currently 2 4 cell embies and 1 3 cell embie. They were slow growing, but other than that, looked good. He recommended we transfer.
I rushed from work to the office after consulting with DH. I was never given photos of my embies...and was so hopped up on adrenaline, I didn't even think to ask for them. During my 2ww, I knew...I knew that it would be negative. I knew it like I knew my name...it was just there. Sure enough, on May 15th, we went for the beta...absolutely no HCG in my system. Even though I knew...it was still a huge blow.
Now my bitterness comes into play at the way Dr pain in the ass treated the whole after consult...we waited for an hour before he saw us, told us "Oh well, it's all in the numbers, you can't expect a positive every time...when would you like to cycle again". What???? No, I'm sorry for your pain. No, I know it's hard. Just when would you like to pay me again????? He proceeded to shove us into a nurse's office so she could answer any questions we had about our failed cycle. I knew at that moment that I would never step foot in his office ever again. On the way out, I requested copies of my records be sent to me....I made appointments with 2 other RE's for consults...I did whatever I could to move forward and not be bitter at this man...but the reality is, I am bitter at him. That was my first experience with ART...I was nervous and scared and hopeful and he took advantage of that. He drives around town in his Maserati thinking he's God's gift to ART...but he's a pig...plain and simple.
I digress, we proceeded to try to have a baby the natural way...with no success. In 2005 I began to chart my temps and check my mucus every month...when that didn't work, we made an appointment to see urologist for DH to get a sperm analysis done. We had no reason to think that the problem would be with me...I'd had what I considered regular periods since I was 13...every 28 - 32 days...with an occasional longer cycle that I attributed to stress or some other live event going on at that point. The results of the SA were not good...but they weren't horrible. DH had low sperm counts, but the urologist stated that there was no reason that we couldn't concieve...it just might take longer than normal.
When we weren't pregnant by 2006, we decided that we should seek additional medical help. Now this is where I start to regret my choices. We weren't the most knowledgeable on RE's...had no idea how to find one. I asked my general practitioner, who was also my gyne, and he really didn't know...I called around to some obs and none could recommend anyone for us to go see. We ended up searching on our insurance website for RE's and picked one that "sounded good". She had studied at Harvard and had high reviews by other insurance holders who chose her.
My first appointment I was alone...DH couldn't get off work...and so nervous. That was in May 2006. I remember her saying that "we will get you pregnant"...OMG was I naive to believe and fall for that hook, line and sinker. I quickly made an appointment to have the recommended tests run...my HCG, endometrial biopsy, and glucose tolerance test were all scheduled before the end of May...before DH even had a chance to meet her.
My HCG revealed slight blockages in both my tubes that were "blown out" during the most hideously painful 10 minutes of my life. My biopsy was good, and my glucose test showed slight insulin resistance. She diagnosed me as PCOS...Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I was put on Metformin and fish oils and told to keep trying naturally. In September 2006, I had ovarian drilling surgery, which I now believe was a complete waste of money and time. I noticed nothing different after the surgery than before...except that I was very weepy for about a week...but that could have been due to the fact that I felt like I'd been socked in the gut.
My RE suggested IVF...we told her we weren't ready to take that step yet and we would wait a few months for me to heal properly...we also had just sold our townhouse and were living with the in-laws at the time...we wanted to wait until we had our house...we really thought IVF would work the first time. Ha!
I called my RE's office in February of 2007...
"We're ready to start IVF with Dr so and so" I said
"Oh, Dr so and so left the practice in October" said the know it all receptionist
What the fuck!!
"Didn't you receive the letter we sent to all her patients" she continued
"Um, no, I didn't" (obviously) I said
"Well she did...you can see Dr pain in the ass though"
"Um, ok?"
I should have known from that conversation that things would not go well. Don't get me wrong, I didn't almost die or anything, but things just didn't go how I thought they would. I was put back on bcp when I started my period at the end of February...and started stims in April. During all my monitoring appts I was never told how many follies I had, never told how large they were...didn't know that I was supposed to be told those things until I joined an IVF board and all the other women were talking about follie size. On April 26th, Dr pain in the ass retrieved 23 eggs from me...16 of which were mature. None fertilized initally. We were devasted...we told the embyrologist that if there were no good signs we weren't going to transfer. On April 30th, the office called me and patched in Dr Egg (the embryologist)...3 eggs had fertilized...very slowly. There were currently 2 4 cell embies and 1 3 cell embie. They were slow growing, but other than that, looked good. He recommended we transfer.
I rushed from work to the office after consulting with DH. I was never given photos of my embies...and was so hopped up on adrenaline, I didn't even think to ask for them. During my 2ww, I knew...I knew that it would be negative. I knew it like I knew my name...it was just there. Sure enough, on May 15th, we went for the beta...absolutely no HCG in my system. Even though I knew...it was still a huge blow.
Now my bitterness comes into play at the way Dr pain in the ass treated the whole after consult...we waited for an hour before he saw us, told us "Oh well, it's all in the numbers, you can't expect a positive every time...when would you like to cycle again". What???? No, I'm sorry for your pain. No, I know it's hard. Just when would you like to pay me again????? He proceeded to shove us into a nurse's office so she could answer any questions we had about our failed cycle. I knew at that moment that I would never step foot in his office ever again. On the way out, I requested copies of my records be sent to me....I made appointments with 2 other RE's for consults...I did whatever I could to move forward and not be bitter at this man...but the reality is, I am bitter at him. That was my first experience with ART...I was nervous and scared and hopeful and he took advantage of that. He drives around town in his Maserati thinking he's God's gift to ART...but he's a pig...plain and simple.
Some women shouldn't be mothers...
So ok...on one of the other boards I post on someone posted this article. I can not express how angry Maier's comments made me. I want to be a mother more than anything...and for someone to describe her children the way she did is just wrong. Maybe she shouldn't have had children...maybe she should show her kids a little love and attention instead of bitching about them. I mean, her eldest is 13...old enough to read the horrible things her mother says about her. Now I know that motherhood isn't all sugar and roses...but it can't be the sewer rut Maier describes it as...otherwise no one would want children.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Another day...another doctor
So C and I went to see Dr N yesterday...he's a urologist specializing in male factor infertility. He seemed quite nice...reminded me alot of Dr McDreamy from Grey's Anatomy...same hair cut, color, body shape and all. So he started by going over our history...but since I'm anal about keeping records straight, it was easy...simply handed him a binder with all our medical records in it....separated into sections for C and I each and also a section for our cycles...then he proceeded to ask me to leave the room while he did a physical exam on C. Uh ok...it's not like I haven't seen C's package before, or seen how a dr does an exam...but ok...whatever. What happened next was completely unexpected.
Before I share, let me preface by saying that C has had multiple SA's done, and has also had ultrasounds done to verify the presence of varicocele...with the only issue being his sperm. So Dr. N after 5 minutes of just feeling up C tells us that he could FEEL the varicocele! I guess all the other drs who've touched C's sack weren't really all that in tune with what they were looking for!
So anyway, Dr N suggested that C provide him yet another sample to be tested at the University lab he is affiliated with. Along with blood tests...but doesn't think that the varicocele will be an issue...
So I'll add Dr N's card to my ever growing stack...
Before I share, let me preface by saying that C has had multiple SA's done, and has also had ultrasounds done to verify the presence of varicocele...with the only issue being his sperm. So Dr. N after 5 minutes of just feeling up C tells us that he could FEEL the varicocele! I guess all the other drs who've touched C's sack weren't really all that in tune with what they were looking for!
So anyway, Dr N suggested that C provide him yet another sample to be tested at the University lab he is affiliated with. Along with blood tests...but doesn't think that the varicocele will be an issue...
So I'll add Dr N's card to my ever growing stack...
Monday, August 13, 2007
Just once...
Just once I'd like to know what it's like to be pregnant...to see those 2 little lines on a HPT. I've long ago given up on the notion that my husband and I will ever conceive a child "the old fashioned way"...by having sex. I wanted to start this blog as a way for me to vent my frustrations, document our journey and share our experiences.
Some history...my husband, we'll call him C, and I have been married 2 years this October...and TTC#1 for 3 years...by no means any significant length of time compared to some. C has low counts and abnormal morphology...I have a high FSH level (13 at age 30) and PCOS. We've been through one IVF cycle...which was a JOKE...but we'll leave that for another day....and will be attempting another cycle sometime in the near future. We have an appointment for C at a male factor specialist on Wednesday...so we'll have to go from there I guess.
Anyway...this is my first crack at a blog, so be kind.
Some history...my husband, we'll call him C, and I have been married 2 years this October...and TTC#1 for 3 years...by no means any significant length of time compared to some. C has low counts and abnormal morphology...I have a high FSH level (13 at age 30) and PCOS. We've been through one IVF cycle...which was a JOKE...but we'll leave that for another day....and will be attempting another cycle sometime in the near future. We have an appointment for C at a male factor specialist on Wednesday...so we'll have to go from there I guess.
Anyway...this is my first crack at a blog, so be kind.
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