My FET buddy had her ultrasound today; the day I would have had mine if the pregnancy had stuck. She is pregnant with twins. She has two perfect, healthy babies growing inside of her and I have none. I truly thought I was prepared for this but I wasn't. I feel like I can't breathe. If I am this torn apart now, how will I survive when those babies are born?
I had a great post planned for yesterday - a shiny, happy, "making lemonade" post. But I never got around to writing it and I really wish I had because it would be such a welcome oasis in this wasteland of a blog. Maybe I will get to it tonight but probably not. At this point, it's probably best put off for a different day anyway.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
better today...
... for many reasons, I suspect. Here are a few:
- I'm spotting. AF is the last thing I need to physically close the door on this experience and she appears to be scratching at the door.
- Getting all of that stuff I have been blogging about lately (especially yesterday) OUT into the open took a big weight off my shoulders.
- Lots of pep talks to myself about perspective and, sadly, lots of suffering in the world around me to remind me how relatively lucky I am.
- All the supportive comments that have been left on this blog in the last week and a half. I know this blog has been a complete drag to read and it's tough to keep commenting when there's nothing good to say anyway, but your patience and virtual hand-holding (even as I've been totally MIA on your blogs) has really meant a lot to me.
- Putting down the smart phone. I know this sounds like a weird one, but I have intentionally "unplugged" from my iPh.one this week and I actually think it has made a difference. It's something I've been wanting to test out for a while and was forced into it this week by a desperate need to turn down the noise in my head. More on this soon, in a totally non-chemical-pregnancy-related post. (Yes, I do intend to talk about something else one day. I promise.)
- M and I joined forces last night to solve an external problem totally unrelated to TTC. While we are certainly not opponents in this latest round of TTC drama, we're not exactly on the same page with it either and that has been a challenge for me to navigate. It was refreshing to unite against a shared "enemy" and remember what it feels like to be unequivocally on the same team.
- A little bit of plain ol' time.
- There is actual, non-metaphorical sunlight breaking through the clouds today. I am reminded that time will continue to pass, that spring will eventually come, and with it, new chapters of our story will present themselves.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
reminders
I feel myself slipping into the quicksand. I do this. My mom said that even as a tiny child, I was like a dog with a bone once I got something in my head. I'd like to put the worry to rest, I just... can't.
Newest development as of Monday night: There are no remaining vials of KD's sperm on this planet. But we knew that already, right? Yes and no. Yes, we received this news over the summer and I grieved it mightily at that time. But then a few weeks ago, I read this sentence on KD's post about his vasectomy (on his blog I'd forgotten existed): WifesName and I aren't going to be having any children, but should it be necessary, there is some genetic material stored for those who may need or want it. I'm sorry... what? That's us, right?! It was like a ray of light, albeit a filtered one. On one hand, it couldn't possibly be referring to what I hoped because surely he'd have told us about it and sent us a bill for storage but on the flip side, he has generously absorbed minor expenses before and what else could it possibly mean? The FET was just around the corner so I tried to strike a balance of holding onto this possibility (so as not to implode from the pressure of our "last chance" FET cycle) but not putting any weight into it until we knew what it actually meant. M asked him point-blank on Monday whether he banked anything prior to his procedure and the answer is no, there is nothing saved. I'm crushed. Again. Looks like I didn't do as good a job of suspending my hope as I thought I did.
My next task was to start researching MESA, TESE, and all of those other male factor treatments every lesbian couple should have a foolproof exemption from. The RE said we'd talk about these at our WTF appointment on 2/17, but that is practically a lifetime away. It's a minor procedure - no more invasive than the vasectomy he's already had - but I can't imagine he'll agree to do it for us. That statement is partially genuine (I am truly afraid this will be where he draws the line) and partially just me trying to prepare myself for the worst. History shows me this preparation is useless. I'll still be destroyed if he says no, so why am I bothering to worry about it now? And that is what I came here to write about before I was hit by a case of verbal (er, digital) diarrhea.
It's time to put down the worry. There will be plenty of time to worry and grieve if what I fear actually comes to pass. I have collected a handful of quotes over the years that challenge this charming personality trait of mine, and I'm feeling the need to have them all in one place so I can read them 10 or 20 or 1000 times a day while I wait for the next chapter to unfold. So without further ado...
We are more disturbed by a calamity which threatens us than by one which has befallen us. ~John Lancaster Spalding
Anxiety is a thin stream of fear trickling through the mind. If encouraged, it cuts a channel into which all other thoughts are drained. ~Arthur Somers Roche
We can easily manage if we will only take, each day, the burden appointed to it. But the load will be too heavy for us if we carry yesterday's burden over again today, and then add the burden of the morrow before we are required to bear it. ~John Newton
That the birds of worry and care fly over you head, this you cannot change, but that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent. ~Chinese Proverb
The bridges that you cross before you come to them are over rivers that aren't there. ~Gene Brown
Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength. ~Corrie Ten Boom
Newest development as of Monday night: There are no remaining vials of KD's sperm on this planet. But we knew that already, right? Yes and no. Yes, we received this news over the summer and I grieved it mightily at that time. But then a few weeks ago, I read this sentence on KD's post about his vasectomy (on his blog I'd forgotten existed): WifesName and I aren't going to be having any children, but should it be necessary, there is some genetic material stored for those who may need or want it. I'm sorry... what? That's us, right?! It was like a ray of light, albeit a filtered one. On one hand, it couldn't possibly be referring to what I hoped because surely he'd have told us about it and sent us a bill for storage but on the flip side, he has generously absorbed minor expenses before and what else could it possibly mean? The FET was just around the corner so I tried to strike a balance of holding onto this possibility (so as not to implode from the pressure of our "last chance" FET cycle) but not putting any weight into it until we knew what it actually meant. M asked him point-blank on Monday whether he banked anything prior to his procedure and the answer is no, there is nothing saved. I'm crushed. Again. Looks like I didn't do as good a job of suspending my hope as I thought I did.
My next task was to start researching MESA, TESE, and all of those other male factor treatments every lesbian couple should have a foolproof exemption from. The RE said we'd talk about these at our WTF appointment on 2/17, but that is practically a lifetime away. It's a minor procedure - no more invasive than the vasectomy he's already had - but I can't imagine he'll agree to do it for us. That statement is partially genuine (I am truly afraid this will be where he draws the line) and partially just me trying to prepare myself for the worst. History shows me this preparation is useless. I'll still be destroyed if he says no, so why am I bothering to worry about it now? And that is what I came here to write about before I was hit by a case of verbal (er, digital) diarrhea.
It's time to put down the worry. There will be plenty of time to worry and grieve if what I fear actually comes to pass. I have collected a handful of quotes over the years that challenge this charming personality trait of mine, and I'm feeling the need to have them all in one place so I can read them 10 or 20 or 1000 times a day while I wait for the next chapter to unfold. So without further ado...
We are more disturbed by a calamity which threatens us than by one which has befallen us. ~John Lancaster Spalding
---
---
We can easily manage if we will only take, each day, the burden appointed to it. But the load will be too heavy for us if we carry yesterday's burden over again today, and then add the burden of the morrow before we are required to bear it. ~John Newton
---
That the birds of worry and care fly over you head, this you cannot change, but that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent. ~Chinese Proverb
---
The bridges that you cross before you come to them are over rivers that aren't there. ~Gene Brown
---
Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength. ~Corrie Ten Boom
Monday, February 7, 2011
navigating the highs and lows
I had a pretty good weekend, considering.
Last week, I had a track playing in my head that just kept repeating "I hate my life" over and over again. I hate that M and I have to involve anyone else in our family building in the first place. I hate that even after we prostrate ourselves, it still isn't easy. I hate that we have so little say in when and how our family will grow. I hate that we have to weigh the value of another child against the significant, real, and enduring financial consequences to our family that continued OOP treatments will bring about. What a gut-wrenching equation. Most of all, I hate that we have to do all of these things when others do not. These things are not the prerequisites to child-rearing for most people. I hate that they are for us.
This weekend, I was able to coax myself into some perspective. I don't hate my life; I hate this part of my life. This part of my life is all-consuming right now, but it won't always be. There are many things about my life that are wonderful and should not be short-changed:
Last week, I had a track playing in my head that just kept repeating "I hate my life" over and over again. I hate that M and I have to involve anyone else in our family building in the first place. I hate that even after we prostrate ourselves, it still isn't easy. I hate that we have so little say in when and how our family will grow. I hate that we have to weigh the value of another child against the significant, real, and enduring financial consequences to our family that continued OOP treatments will bring about. What a gut-wrenching equation. Most of all, I hate that we have to do all of these things when others do not. These things are not the prerequisites to child-rearing for most people. I hate that they are for us.
This weekend, I was able to coax myself into some perspective. I don't hate my life; I hate this part of my life. This part of my life is all-consuming right now, but it won't always be. There are many things about my life that are wonderful and should not be short-changed:
- I have an uncomplicated, supportive relationship with a wonderful partner. During our ten years together, we have honed our ability to cut through the static and care for each other, even in the hardest of times.
- We have a healthy, smart, and funny little boy that is generous with his hugs and kisses. The fact that he made it into this world seems more of a miracle to me now than ever.
- We have good jobs and a comfortable home.
- We have the unconditional love and support of both of our extended families.
- We have the resources to try again. I'm not sure yet where they will come from. I do know there will be pain and sacrifice involved. But we'll make it happen somehow.
There are even silver linings to the loss of this pregnancy to be grateful for:
- I'm fulfilling maid of honor duties for an out-of-town friend in April. It will be much easier to enjoy all of the travel and pre-wedding festivities (not to mention the bar at the reception) without any first trimester ick to contend with.
- We just booked a trip to England in June. Part of the trip includes four days on a canal boat with KD and his wife and they... how shall I put this... let's just say there will be at least as much pub-crawling as canal-boating going on. I was fully prepared to be the sober chaperone, and also to manage the international flight with a toddler and a 20-week belly, but the trip will certainly be easier and more enjoyable without these considerations.
- I'm not in great shape right now. I'd be better off to start a pregnancy 10-15 lbs. lighter than I am and now it looks like I will have time to make that happen.
When we were TTC Elliot, I had a mantra that helped me get through the BFNs. I wrote about it here. The gist is that our child will be one in a billion, conceived at a precise moment in time, and to wish for that time to be earlier than it is meant to is to wish for a different child than the one we are going to have. So it is okay to wish that OUR child could be conceived earlier rather than later, but it has to stop there. Once the BFN comes, there is no point longing for the pregnancies or the babies that weren't to be, because they were never meant to be ours, and they had to be lost to keep our arms and hearts open for the child that is still waiting for us. (I should note that this is how I personally choose to think about this, because it helps me, but it doesn't mean I think anyone else should subscribe to the same philosophy.) Anyway, I tried to focus on that a lot this weekend too, and it took some of the sting away. Well, I think it did.
The problem with all of this is that today is another bad day, and I've lost sight of the sunshine I found this weekend. I thought I would be grateful for today's test as a step toward closure, but I had the same sick feeling walking into the RE's office today as I did on Thursday. This time, however, I got lost in the shuffle at the front desk and had to sit in the waiting room for 30 minutes prior to my test. While I was sitting there, I realized how different and scary that office seems now. We didn't move to the RE until IVF, so to me, that office has always been magical. After nearly two years of BFNs, we walked through their doors and left with a baby. Our experience with them has been strictly that you go to them when you need a miracle and, lo and behold, they achieve the unachievable. This failed FET has reminded me of the darker side of RE's offices; the side I was mercifully spared the first time around. Now they have dealt me heartbreak, too. My 30 minute wait also gave me the time to survey my routing slip, complete with the "reason" for today's visit: rpt qbhcg not a gd# Translation: Repeat quantitative beta hcg, not a good number. Ouch. By the time I finally got back for my blood draw, I was hanging on by a thread. The nurse spotted this instantly and asked if I was okay. That was apparently enough to open up the flood gates. Teary meltdown in public = everyone's favorite way to start the day.
The nurse called while I was writing this post. Beta is down to "less than five." This is mostly good news, given the circumstances, but sad news as well. Nothing left to do now but stop my meds and wait to bleed.
*deep breath*
Today is a bad day. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow, the sun will come out again and I will remember the things I knew over the weekend: I am a lucky woman with so much to be grateful for. Someday, this will all be worth it.
Friday, February 4, 2011
"You are pregnant, but..."
That's how the conversation started when the nurse called with my beta results yesterday. She went on to say my number was 5 which is "very low" and the doctor wanted to caution me against getting my hopes up. No hope - check.
Apparently, 5 is the precise lowest number you can have and still be required to come in for a repeat beta. Lucky me! I should buy a lottery ticket. Ha. Next blood draw will be Monday.
In related news, I'm still in the grief bubble. It's wreaking havoc on our home life and I've got to shake it off. Poor M has been taking up a lot of slack this week, all the while coping with her own disappointment, and poor E is channeling all of my bad vibes and turning into a bonafide MONSTER - epic temper tantrums over nothing that last an hour or longer - and neither M or I are able to cope well given our already frayed nerves.
I had a local cycle buddy who had her FET 20 minutes before mine with the same doctor at the same clinic. She transferred three embryos and her beta was 1004 yesterday. I'm confused about what "day" our embryos were so yesterday was either 18 or 19dpo. Her 19dpo beta with her first pregnancy was 147. She's probably having twins, at least, and I'm having nothing. Genuinely over the moon for her. Genuinely devastated for me.
Apparently, 5 is the precise lowest number you can have and still be required to come in for a repeat beta. Lucky me! I should buy a lottery ticket. Ha. Next blood draw will be Monday.
In related news, I'm still in the grief bubble. It's wreaking havoc on our home life and I've got to shake it off. Poor M has been taking up a lot of slack this week, all the while coping with her own disappointment, and poor E is channeling all of my bad vibes and turning into a bonafide MONSTER - epic temper tantrums over nothing that last an hour or longer - and neither M or I are able to cope well given our already frayed nerves.
I had a local cycle buddy who had her FET 20 minutes before mine with the same doctor at the same clinic. She transferred three embryos and her beta was 1004 yesterday. I'm confused about what "day" our embryos were so yesterday was either 18 or 19dpo. Her 19dpo beta with her first pregnancy was 147. She's probably having twins, at least, and I'm having nothing. Genuinely over the moon for her. Genuinely devastated for me.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
confirmation
Digital BFN this morning. I knew it was coming and I still feel like all of the oxygen has gone out of our house.
I don't know where to put the pain. Normally, I could crawl under the covers for a couple of days until the worst of it passed, but Elliot and I are home on Snow Day #2 and he doesn't accept less than 100% of me, nor would it be fair to ask him to. There are many things that are easier about TTC #2. This is not one of them.
I don't know where to put the pain. Normally, I could crawl under the covers for a couple of days until the worst of it passed, but Elliot and I are home on Snow Day #2 and he doesn't accept less than 100% of me, nor would it be fair to ask him to. There are many things that are easier about TTC #2. This is not one of them.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
January: Blue
A day late and a bunch of photo talent short, but here is my submission for An Offering of Love's photo project. The theme for January was blue, which kind of works for me right now. I'm not thrilled by how this month's collection turned out, but it was kind of a tunnel-vision month for me without a lot of photo-worthy activity. Oh well, I have eleven more months to redeem myself.
Where am I?
Oh lord, I don't know. I'm sad. Really, really sad. I sort of can't believe this is happening. I hate the way that sounds because I know so many of you have walked this path before me and it's not that I think I'm somehow different than you or immune to the blows you have fallen to but... actually, I guess I kind of did in a subconscious way. I thought my problem was Getting Pregnant, not Staying Pregnant. Once I had a couple of positive pregnancy tests under my belt, I considered the hard part to be behind me. Silly me, I should have realized that being 1 for 1 is just as likely dumb luck as anything else. I hope that this pregnancy was the exception to my body's rule and not Elliot's successful gestation, but I guess only time will tell.
I try not to engage in the Pain Olympics, but it's hard not to feel like a bit of a loser for being so leveled by this disappointment when many of you have stood gracefully on the other side of much worse. Good grief, I was pregnant for like five minutes. I've spent a lot of time today focusing on all I have to be grateful for. I am a very lucky woman. I just don't think I realized how much I wanted this pregnancy until I had it. Going into the FET, I thought we'd roll the dice and if it was negative, we'd break for a while to focus on some other stuff we have coming up and plan our next steps. When I got my BFP and started thinking about a 2011 baby (!!) and a two-and-a-half year age difference between our children, I kind of fell in love with it all. And then it was gone. And now I'm desperate - desperate - to try again, as much as the idea of another full IVF cycle makes me want to vomit.
M and I talked about money last night and came up with some options. I can't believe we're even considering another fresh cycle, but I don't know how to not consider it either. I think we may ask KD about TESE. He may say no, but I need to have asked. I am so head over heels for Elliot and as crazy as he makes me sometimes (ahem, today), I want another child with his exact hard-wiring. I know there's no way to parse out what is nature and what is nurture, and I also know enough about genetics to know that repeating the same equation does not produce the same outcome, but I want to at least roll the same dice if we can, you know? And if that isn't an option, we'll cross that bridge and it will be okay, but I'm not going there just yet.
In the meantime, I'm still having all kinds of symptoms and they're really pissing me off. I have always been really sensitive to biochemical changes - I react strongly to low doses of medications, etc. - and I guess this chemical pregnancy is pumping out just enough hormone to mess with me. I still have the full, twinge-y uterus feeling, the intermittent, mild queasiness, and the fatigue. This afternoon, I got terrible heartburn for the first time since I was pregnant with Elliot. All of these things combined with the fact that I didn't test this morning (so no fresh BFN to keep me grounded in reality) are messing with my head and causing me to fantasize about this all being a terrible misunderstanding. Faulty tests! Yeah, that's it! I'll go to my beta (rescheduled for Thursday, btw) and I'll die of shock when they call to congratulate me on my great number! Even as I type this, I know it's not true. I just need to get through these next couple of days and get some closure so I can stop torturing myself.
Thanks so much for all of your support and virtual hugs after my last post. I've read your comments over and over. The first few times through, they just made me cry, which is probably what I needed. After that, they reminded me of how lucky I am to have you all to lean on. I really don't know how people survive this stuff without a circle of friends to prop them up during hard times.
I try not to engage in the Pain Olympics, but it's hard not to feel like a bit of a loser for being so leveled by this disappointment when many of you have stood gracefully on the other side of much worse. Good grief, I was pregnant for like five minutes. I've spent a lot of time today focusing on all I have to be grateful for. I am a very lucky woman. I just don't think I realized how much I wanted this pregnancy until I had it. Going into the FET, I thought we'd roll the dice and if it was negative, we'd break for a while to focus on some other stuff we have coming up and plan our next steps. When I got my BFP and started thinking about a 2011 baby (!!) and a two-and-a-half year age difference between our children, I kind of fell in love with it all. And then it was gone. And now I'm desperate - desperate - to try again, as much as the idea of another full IVF cycle makes me want to vomit.
M and I talked about money last night and came up with some options. I can't believe we're even considering another fresh cycle, but I don't know how to not consider it either. I think we may ask KD about TESE. He may say no, but I need to have asked. I am so head over heels for Elliot and as crazy as he makes me sometimes (ahem, today), I want another child with his exact hard-wiring. I know there's no way to parse out what is nature and what is nurture, and I also know enough about genetics to know that repeating the same equation does not produce the same outcome, but I want to at least roll the same dice if we can, you know? And if that isn't an option, we'll cross that bridge and it will be okay, but I'm not going there just yet.
In the meantime, I'm still having all kinds of symptoms and they're really pissing me off. I have always been really sensitive to biochemical changes - I react strongly to low doses of medications, etc. - and I guess this chemical pregnancy is pumping out just enough hormone to mess with me. I still have the full, twinge-y uterus feeling, the intermittent, mild queasiness, and the fatigue. This afternoon, I got terrible heartburn for the first time since I was pregnant with Elliot. All of these things combined with the fact that I didn't test this morning (so no fresh BFN to keep me grounded in reality) are messing with my head and causing me to fantasize about this all being a terrible misunderstanding. Faulty tests! Yeah, that's it! I'll go to my beta (rescheduled for Thursday, btw) and I'll die of shock when they call to congratulate me on my great number! Even as I type this, I know it's not true. I just need to get through these next couple of days and get some closure so I can stop torturing myself.
Thanks so much for all of your support and virtual hugs after my last post. I've read your comments over and over. The first few times through, they just made me cry, which is probably what I needed. After that, they reminded me of how lucky I am to have you all to lean on. I really don't know how people survive this stuff without a circle of friends to prop them up during hard times.
Monday, January 31, 2011
too good to be true
After that beautiful digital test on Saturday morning, I switched back to the two line variety to reassure myself until my beta on Wednesday... and this is how I watched my pregnancy slip right through my fingers. It looks like a chemical this time around. I couldn't detect a second line at all this morning, so my only hope is that my beta is low enough on Wednesday that I don't have to come back again a week later.
I still have symptoms - now all progesterone and/or mentally induced, it seems. The strongest of the pack is the cramping which I guess is my body trying to expel the non-viable Little Engine but the progesterone is keeping it in, and the thought of that battle going on makes me sick to my stomach.
I'm shocked by how quickly I pinned hopes to that embryo, and how painful this is as a result. A chemical pregnancy is a new one for me. In all of our cycles of trying, we never had a BFP until the one that stuck. Until now, my body had never failed to hold on to a pregnancy. Now I have a new inadequacy to add to my collection.
Sadly, the only thing I can think to do to stop the hurting is to try again - now, today - and we can't. We have no more snowbabies. I used to think having to go through another fresh IVF cycle would be terrible, but now I'd start shooting up stims today if they'd let me. But it's not an option for so many reasons. We now have big decisions to make about sperm, and that's not a process I want to rush. Even if there was an easy answer there, we have no infertility coverage and we can't afford another fresh cycle right now. All there is to do now is to sit with the grief, and wait and hope for beta results that give us clear and swift resolution.
I still have symptoms - now all progesterone and/or mentally induced, it seems. The strongest of the pack is the cramping which I guess is my body trying to expel the non-viable Little Engine but the progesterone is keeping it in, and the thought of that battle going on makes me sick to my stomach.
I'm shocked by how quickly I pinned hopes to that embryo, and how painful this is as a result. A chemical pregnancy is a new one for me. In all of our cycles of trying, we never had a BFP until the one that stuck. Until now, my body had never failed to hold on to a pregnancy. Now I have a new inadequacy to add to my collection.
Sadly, the only thing I can think to do to stop the hurting is to try again - now, today - and we can't. We have no more snowbabies. I used to think having to go through another fresh IVF cycle would be terrible, but now I'd start shooting up stims today if they'd let me. But it's not an option for so many reasons. We now have big decisions to make about sperm, and that's not a process I want to rush. Even if there was an easy answer there, we have no infertility coverage and we can't afford another fresh cycle right now. All there is to do now is to sit with the grief, and wait and hope for beta results that give us clear and swift resolution.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
morning sighting
Feeling a bit like the luckiest woman alive right now...
So, so thankful and not taking a moment of it for granted. Looks like we have a Little Engine That Could in there.
We have out-of-town family staying with us so I will have to fill in the details in a later post, but I didn't want to leave you in suspense any longer. Thank you so much for all of the love and support sent our way over the past week.
Holy crap, we're pregnant!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)