Toddlers and Test Tubes

The check is in the mail.

2012-02-20T13:50:00.003-05:00

Less $500 for monitoring and office fees.

I must say, I'm a little surprised at how cold this process was. I called and left a voicemail for the financial coordinator at Dr. Millionpicturesonthewall's office, and she left me another voicemail today informing me that the check would be in the mail.

I'm not sure what I expected. I know that I wouldn't have some dramatic scene with Dr. M calling me asking me to come in for a face to face appointment, wrinkled brow and concern in his voice. But six months of almost weekly to twice weekly appointments down to 2 voice mails and a hefty refund with no conversation.

Weird.

It is OK and probably better. Tomorrow I have an appointment at the new Baby Lab at 7:15am. More bloodwork and more monitoring.

Let's hope we are turning the corner.

BFP = Big Fat Postive = Pregnant

2012-02-19T14:02:00.000-05:00

Just kidding, kind of.

On this Sunday of President's Day Weekend, last year, I had taken two home pregnancy tests and felt that my nerves were ragged after 3 months of negative home tests. Imagine that, feeling that sad after 3 months. It is a funny story, really. Because I had gone through about 6 of the super expensive digital tests, I went to the cheapie generic ones. Well, Sunday morning, I woke and tried the test. Wouldn't you know, it broke. I went about my day, looking at carpet, eating lunch at McDonald's (haven't been back there since) and thenI went to do my grocery shopping and picked up a name brand $16 test. Mr. T put Toddler T down for his nap, and we waited. Back to the ragged nerves, I couldn't even stand to look at the test. I handed it over to Mr. T and was honestly shocked when he said "Pregnant."

Pregnant. Ahhhh, Pregnant.

We had plans to celebrate my father in law's birthday that night and we were excited to once again have our own little secret. We were also excited to talk with Mr. T's brother and fiance about their wedding plans. It seemed like everything was falling into place for everyone. I felt content with my mild nausea while I held my Pinot Noir up to my mouth for my fake sips at dinner. I even imagined what style dress I might wear to the wedding. I made a mental note to browse the Pea in a Pod website while at work on Tuesday.

Then it changed. All of it. The online maternity dress browsing, the reviews of the best double strollers, the planning my life as a Stay at Home Mom. It changed when I heard the doctor say "Early ultrasound to detect viability." In a flash, I was reading every single article I could about miscarriage, threatened miscarriage, subchorionic hemorrhage, vanishing twin syndrome, HCG levels by week and anything else I could to try and understand what my body was already telling me. But I never ONCE came across anything about Ectopic Pregnancy. This fact haunts me to the day. The idea of that pregnancy being possible ectopic fell off everyones radar. I even asked my doctor what she thought would have happened differently had I asked that question to the nurse. "Do you think it's an ectopic?" I'll never know and she didn't say.

In the 365 days since I got the 2nd ever positive pregnancy test in my life, I then got a third and went through 3 surgeries, a dose of methotrexate and a blood transfusion. I have also had 2 attempts at IVF cancelled and a change in my doctor.

Other things have happened in this past 365 days. I got to realize my dream of being a stay at home mom to Toddler T. I have been able to enjoy so many things about his personality. I have had the opportunity to challenge some of my beliefs on Eastern vs. Western Medicine and have been pleasantly surprised with my reaction. I have learned to let some things roll off my back.

I wish I had that crystal ball to know what I might be writing about 365 days from now. Will we remain our family of 3? Will we be successful in building our biological family? Will we move on to adoption? I wish I had those answers because I'm anxious about how these next few months will go. March 16th was the day of the emergency surgery and April 24th would have been the due date of my 2nd ectopic pregnancy. I just pray for the strength to deal with whatever may come as these next annivesary dates come.

Acupuncture

2012-02-17T15:00:00.001-05:00

Is life changing.

It is hope, calm, self-indulgent and beneficial all at the same time.

I wish I had gone 12 months ago.

I fully embrace the tiny needles. It is true, they do not hurt.

I pray to be one of the 40-60% that report a successful IUI/IVF/natural cycle with the use of acupuncture.

If you are considering it.. GO for it.

I'll listen to my 2 year old instead.

2012-02-12T16:28:00.001-05:00

As you may have guessed from my last few post, the last week has been a hard one. I would be willing to say that it has been more challenging than dealing with the immediate aftermath of the two ectopic pregnancies. I wrote in a previous post, that if my 2nd IVF cycle was cancelled, it would surely be the end of me. Well, since it's me typing and not a ghost writer, that did not happen. I'm here. I'm standing. I'm getting a new plan together.

Now, let's be clear. I'm not standing on my own two feet. This past week, I have been surrounded by a large group of people who stepped in and helped to prop Mr. T and I up, when it seemed to be too much for us. Here is my very public thank you to all that checked in, emailed, called and came by to hang out with Toddler T. Your help allowed us to take a deep breath and reassess and reaffirm.

Our goal is another child. And we'd like to meet that goal in the safest and most efficient way possible. So, revisiting another IVF protocol that uses Lupron did not seem to make too much sense. Nor, does it seem to make too much sense to stay with Dr. Million.pictures.on.the.wall. I will never take away that he is a very intelligent man. But this is a business and we are paying him. We gave him 6 months of our time and in the end, it just made sense to part ways.

We will start things up next month and go back to the drawing board. Full work up and a realistic reassessment of the risk associated with an IUI vs IVF. This makes me feel more in control and like the pendulum has swung back from NO HOPE toward IT MIGHT BE OK. The megaphone is there, although it has quieted some.

Dr. Neutral seems to be a better fit for us and he didn't jump right on the egg donor train.

But the biggest thing that has lifted my spirits?

My son.

He gave me hope in the innocent way that only a child can.

Mr. T and I were giving him a bath Thursday Night. It was a bubble bath and he was digging bubbles with a shovel. He put some bubbles aside and muttered. "I'm saving these for my sister." I heard it. I asked him to repeat himself a few times, but he wouldn't say it again. Then Mr. T said, "He said what you think he said, I heard it too."

It was just what I needed to hear.

Riding the IF rollercoaster.

2012-02-09T14:39:00.000-05:00

I started a post yesterday to summarize my 2nd opinion appointment. I didn't even have the energy to type it out. I feel drained. I feel lost in this world of life creating science and medicine. I am amazed to truly have an understanding of the analogy "this is a roller-coaster ride", used by so many people who are facing infertility. I thought that the roller coaster effect was measured over the course of several days or cycles. I had no idea it could apply to one single doctor's appointment. I think it has taken me a day to get over the nausea related to the emotional G-force that we experienced yesterday.

The clinic was well-appointed, the rooms nice, the staff friendly. There was neutral artwork on our doctor's wall, not one framed diploma, article or magazine cover. It was clean and he was 'purposfuly neutral.' Given my experience with Dr. Million.pictures.on.the.wall, and his 'slam-dunk and super sperm' comments, I was OK with this subdued persona. Dr. Neutral gave us an hour of his time and went through my 12 page, new patient registration form with a fine toothed comb.

The safety harness of the Free Fall at Great Adventure just tightened around my chest.

I felt that I may fall of the side of the world at any given moment. Drooling for a scrap of good news, terrified of the bad. It was wonderful to have Mr. T by my side and pen and paper to make my notes. Dr. Neutral believes that my history and lab work are in conflict with one another. For instance, I have an undetectable measure of AMH. This is bad. This indicates poor egg quality and low egg count. But in reality, I have gotten pregnant 3 times, with no assistance and no more than 3 months to attain a pregnancy. He then asked about diagnostic tests. Truth be told, we sort of jumped past all of that, because I was told by two doctors that the safest way for me to get pregnant was via IVF. I did not feel the need to subject myself to more testing and Dr. M agreed. Dr. Neutral, did not.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, going up to the top of the ride

His recommendation was that I take one month to have a diagnostic cycle. Clomid Challenge Test, HSG, a complete lab workup. Mr. T will complete a sequential SA to get a more accurate picture of his motility and all that great stuff. I was perplexed, why, why back to this, when I needed IVF?

Dr. Neutral isn't convinced that we needed IVF in the first place.

Yes, you read that correctly. He is not in agreement that I have a 30-50% chance of a 3rd ectopic. In fact, he'd put it around 8-12%. EIGHT TO TWELVE percent is a low enough percentage, that I would have considered trying naturally without one damned injection or ultrasound or 7am blood draw or any of it.

AND FALL

He suggested starting back with an IUI. That with close monitoring, if a pregnancy resulted and IF it was ectopic, he would know early enough to avoid rupture and treat with methotrexate.

AND GO AROUND THE FIRST TURN, UP TO THE TOP.

Then he preformed an ultrasound and commented that I had a low Antral Follicle Count. and that this low AFC coupled with the low AMH, was concerning. These two together, indicated a challenge with egg production and obtaining a healthy, intrauterine pregnancy.

AND SWOOSH DOWN

And then my voice cracked and the tears welled up. I sat on an exam table with my familiar paper sheet, Mr. T at my side and said "I am losing hope that this will ever end."

When all of this started, I truly believed that given what we had been through, Mr. T and I would dodge the bullet of the emotional train wreck that is infertility. From my very naive point of view, I looked at it like this: Ectopic pregnancies are bad. My risk is high, issues are tubal. IVF will be the answer and I will be pregnant with one baby by Christmas. Six months after my 2nd ectopic pregnancy and I am NO closer to bearing a child than I was on the day I was discharged. I am now going back to the drawing board. In a way, that is a good thing... because obviously something was off. But emotionally, these are thoughts and feelings I wasn't ready to need to face.

This is all consuming. It is the first thought when I wake up in the morning and the last thought before I go to sleep. I feel half present in my interactions with family and friends. I am conversing and smiling and maybe even cracking jokes. But in the background, there is a person with a megaphone SCREAMING... YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO GET PREGNANT! I am afraid that I am becoming self-centered and unable to be invested in what's going on with those around me. I am not sure how to turn off the megaphone. I want to, but fear it will only be silenced with a successful pregnancy.

Mr. T and I are together on a ride we never signed up for. No one does. But we stay on it, because I want the picture that you get when you leave. Not the one of everyone making a funny face with their hair standing up, that was taken by an automated camera at the second drop, but the one taken by an ultrasound tech that outlines a perfect baby that you will meet in just a few months.

One foot in front of the other..

2012-02-07T14:43:00.000-05:00

In my many years as a social worker, I have told countless people that sometimes, you just need to put one foot in front of the other. I, am doing just that. I'm not sure where this path is going to take me. To be honest, I'm not sure I want to know what is around the next corner. So, for today, I am just putting one foot in front of the other. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

It is my only option. Crawling into bed, with my fists held angrily in the air, yelling "why me? why me?" just doesn't fit my lifestyle. Besides, I hate to think of Toddler T seeing such a display. So, I will just let my brain imagine that's what I'm doing. In my imagination, it feels kind of nice to have such a All My Children meltdown.

But since the only thing Susan Lucci and I share is the same hair color, I'll move on. I had the chance to speak with Dr. Specialist yesterday. He called bright and early at 8am on Monday morning. He jumped right into what we'd do differently next cycle. A huge increase in the stimulation meds and back to the Long-Lupron protocol. He told me to think things over, but that I didn't have too much time on my side. He also threw in a commentary about the quality of my eggs. His theory is that the two ectopic pregnancies may have been related to poor egg quality and not tubal issues. I'll admit, that sounds suspect. And if I have such rotten eggs, why would I go through IVF at all??? He backed off on the donor egg conversation and told me to call with any questions.

Since he didn't give me too much time to interject, I guess it will need to be my little secret that I'm getting a second opinon. I confirmed that I have a referral to the new doctor, got an updated referral for him and checked that my medical records will be ready for me to pick up tomorrow, AFTER Tumble Bears. I also think I'm going to revisit Traditional Chinese Medicine. I called an accupunturist who works with infertility issues. I even ordered a copy of the Infertility Cure. If you read my blog and have had success with either, please, please, please share.

That's all for now. Wish me luck with the second opinion tomorrow. It would be very nice to have a hopeful doctor's appointment, following 12 consecutive months of sad, dissapointing or painful ones.

Cancelled

2012-02-03T15:34:00.000-05:00

One word says so much, yet doesn't even come close to explaining how much my heart hurts at this very moment.

I had a small reason to be suspect after Wednesday's monitoring appointment. I was trying to remain hopeful and really felt like the medications were doing their jobs. I was tired, felt bloated, had hot flashes and headaches. You know the symptoms that I'd love to complain about, but this time wanted to embrace. Because maybe, just maybe, that meant that things were working.

I went in for my monitoring appointment this morning and was feeling full of hope. I was ready to talk about trigger date and retrieval and all of that good stuff. The phase that I hadn't yet gotten to. The part where I would be one step closer to being pregnant.

But that is not the case.

Where my math skills failed me earlier in the week, they were dead on today. In the stimulation phase, the goal is to track more follicles and larger follicles with every appointment. Today they were smaller and there were less of them. My nurse believes that this cycle is over. Again.

I asked if Dr. Million.pictures.on.the.wall would be available for a consult to review what is happening with my reproductive system. She replied, "You may schedule a consult with Dr. M whenever you think its appropriate." I then said "I'm not a special snowflake and don't need the royal treatment, but this doesn't warrant a phone call from him." She said she'd check, but couldn't make any promises. In all honesty, I don't blame her. This is the way the practice works. I'm just not sure it's working for me anymore.

I cried. I cried my best Julia Roberts "Don't Talk about me like I'm not here" tears from Steel Magnolias. I hustled out of the office and handed my office visit sheet to the receptionist and told her I didn't need a follow up scheduled. I opened the doors with too much force and the door slammed against the metal frame. I then realized that I had left my jacket in the office, so I sheepishly turned around, muttered a tearful apology, retrieved my jacket and got the hell out of there.

Then I cried some more. I called Mr. T and he kept saying "I'm sorry", which prompted Toddler T to keep asking Daddy why he was sorry. Finally, Mr. T answered that he was sorry that he forgot to leave coffee out for Mommy. Then I cried and called my mom. I told her that maybe it is time to accept that Toddler T is our only child. She offered to leave work immediately. I declined. She then told me that she truly believes that one way or another, we will be parents to more than one child. I will let her be my belief system for right now.Then I called Wheezey and left her a voicemail. Then I called someone else, then someone else, then someone else. I was too sad to be alone with my thoughts. Shocked stupid to the point where I just needed to keep talking, even if I couldn't really follow what the other person was saying to me.

There is a level of pain and sadness that I cannot wrap my head around. We are approaching the one year mark and I never in a million years would have believed that I would be where I am today. I feel lost, I feel inadequate, as the body I was given can't fulfill its duties, I am scared and losing the ability to stay positive. Today, I cried. My husband, mother and mother in law all cried. My son asked me why I was crying and I had to tell him that I stubbed my toe when I was walking up the stairs. He went and got me ice and kissed my boo-boo. And that made me cry some more.

I want to be a mother of more than 1 child. I want to experience having a baby again. I want the chance to be more relaxed with the newborn phase. I want to see my son love a sibling and most of all, I want our family to feel complete. This is a journey I would not wish on not one single person. It is not fair. It is not just nor is it equitable.

The one thing that does keep me going is that I am lucky to be surrounded by a family that just does what is needed and a husband that was sent to me for a reason. I am also lucky to have a little bit of the fight still in me. I have made an appointment at another clinic, for a second opinion, set up for next week. I have already faxed a records release to get my medical records and spoken with the financial coordinator to see how much money we can get back if we switch clinics.

My mother is saying a prayer to Saint Jude. I will be sending my prayers to Saint Gerard.

The importance of double checking my math.

2012-01-31T20:31:00.000-05:00

Toddler T is upstairs sleeping and I was just taking a minute to plan out my day tomorrow. It looks a little like this:

7am- bloodwork and ultrasound

9am- Tumble Bears

10:30-1:30 - Toddler T to Nanny's house so I can clean the house top to bottom

4pm- MOMS meeting at my house.

This all looked doable until I reviewed my medication inventory. Currently, I take 3 vials of Bravelle and 1 vial of Menopur along with the microdose Lupron, two times a day. For my dose tomorrow morning, I have 2 vials of Bravelle and 1 of Menopur. So, I'm short 1 vial of medication for my morning dose. CRAP. Math was never my thing. Ever.

Ok self- don't panic. I should be able to swing by the pharmacy after my early morning appointment. The one I made super early so that I could get back in time to take Toddler T to Tumble Bears. Right, well the pharmacy doesn't open until 8:30am. So I am getting up at the crack of dawn to rush to an appointment to sit and wait at a pharmacy and in the end will miss Tumble Bears.

Is this life shattering? No.

Irritating? Yes.

On the one hand, thank God for modern medicine. Without this specialty field of Reproductive Endocrinology, I have no idea if I'd be able to conceive a viable pregnancy. So I am forever grateful. But it is with a heavy heart that I walk through these steps of IVF. I continue to battle the idea of logically understanding the process but struggling emotionally with what that means.

Looking back, I was so lucky with Toddler T. Mr. T and I even kept my pregnancy a secret for 12 weeks. It was our seceret and that was a special thing to share. We knew what our plan was (I'm guessing others suspected) and I even drank mocktails at a coworkers' wedding so that no one suspected a thing. Now, everything is medicinal. I am following a care plan to conceive. I hope I'm not coming across as bitter and ungrateful, I am just sad to be losing the innocence and privacy of creating a child.

I can hear some of you thinking....

BUT YOU STARTED A BLOG

YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT THIS TO YOURSELF, IF PRIVACY IS WHAT YOU ARE AFTER.

And you would be correct. I did and I have no regrets of blogging AND sharing the link with family and friends. Why? This is so far from where I ever thought I'd be. The switch from a private affair between husband and wife was flipped with my second ectopic pregnancy. All of the rules changed and I suddenly had ZERO desire to keep this private. I think in sharing, some of the weight was lifted off my shoulders. But that's not to say, that if I could have had it my way..... Well, you'd never even know we were 'trying'.

Hello Lupron

2012-01-29T21:12:00.002-05:00

How I've missed your dull headaches.

I can only hope that I avoid the dreaded 3am hot flashes, the ones that were so hideous, that I found myself drenched with sweat and feeling trapped in the Sahara several times throughout the night. I'm told that the microdose Lupron will be much more tolerable. It's a diluted version of regular Lupron and the hope is that my body isn't suppressed to the point of not responding to the stimulation medications this go around. Less suppression = less feeling like I'm in early menopause.

Bravelle and Menopur, I did forget your burn. Good to see you both again.

Doxycycline, you can't fool me twice. I will never again take you on an empty stomach.

Burn, give me a headache, make me nauseous and throw in a few bruises.... But

DO YOUR JOB!

That is all.

Mrs. T

Running Late and Chocolate Cake

2012-01-27T23:10:00.000-05:00

I woke up and it was light out.

LIGHT OUT.

Why is that a problem?

Well, its only a problem if you are supposed to be at the baby lab at 7:30am. AND said baby lab is approximately 45 minutes from your house. AND its the winter and it should be dark if you are waking up at 6am. But no, it was light out, because I was LATE. I am never LATE. In my world, LATE is a four letter word.

I had to call the office. I was mortified. I mean who oversleeps on a day that her IVF cycle is officially starting. I actually said, "My alarm didn't go off". The nurse responded, "Well, we are very busy." My stomach flipped over.

In the end, I got there when I got there and no one gave me the side eye. Blood draw was excellent. ( I drank tons of water). The ultrasound was well, an ultrasound. For those of you doing fertility treatments... you know how they are. I did appreciate when the nurse introduced herself and said, I'm Nurse Curly Hair... As If we'd never crossed path's before. I remembered her very clearly from when I was a sobbing mess of a patient, on the table,who just realized her IVF cycle was being cancelled. Clearly, she made more an impression on me, than I on her.

Sobbing girl who can't get pregnant, Sigh, Next.

But that was the past, today is a new day. I got my calendar. I start injections tomorrow. Lupron, Bravelle and Menopur 2 times a day. Mr T and I will also begin taking our antibiotics in preparation for the retrieval. I got a little giddy when I saw HCG and Retrieval written on the calendar. Giddy but then the floor fell out from under me. The funny thing is, I can't even blame the drugs for these crazy fluctuations in my thought process, because I haven't even started them yet. But no sooner was I excited about getting started, was I filled with dread that it wouldn't work.

I asked the nurse, "Is this going to work?"

Seriously?

She can't answer that with any validity.

I know that.

But I asked anyway.

Her answer was awesome. "It worked last time. We just want more eggs this time."

Thank you.

From my appointment I headed to the pharmacy. I felt like a veteran. I ordered only enough meds to get me to my next appointment. But then an odd thing happened. I saw the husband of a patient I had just seen in the waiting room of our clinic. Do I smile? Do I acknowledge that we just came from a place full of mixed emotions? Does he think we are united in our membership of this club?

So, I smiled. And moved on.

I came home and unloaded and organized all of my medications. Pulled some of the leftover supplies out of the closet and dusted them off. My sharps container is next to Clorox wipes and on the same shelf as Toddler T's bubbles. Three items in my home, that for very important and different reasons, need to stay out of his hands.

So today was a good day. Here is a brief summary:

Cleared to start injections. (Yeah, twice-daily injections with two different needles.)

Toddler T accompanied me on a morning's worth of errands in BIG-BOY underwear.

Toddler T kept said underwear DRY.

I scored a $369 car seat for $190.

I just finished eating a large piece of chocolate cake.

Sometimes, Its the little things.

It happened.....

2012-01-24T21:13:00.002-05:00

I had my first viceral reaction to a pregnancy announcement.

It was via a Facebook status update. (The announcement, not my reaction.)

I am not close at all to the girl.

I got to simply make a colorful statement to Mr. T and then move on. Well, blog about it. Then move on.

I immediatly felt guilty for my reaction.

Then I was angry over the last 12 months.

Then I was scared again.

Then I realized, pity parties are no fun. There are no goodie bags, no delicious cake, no one makes a toast in your honor. (But there is wine!)

I can honestly say that I have not spent too much time dwelling on the "why me" moments. But once in a while, they sneak up on me. Just like an unexpected status update. The problem is, I'm not angry that someone else is pregnant. I'm sad that its not me.

If I had to anyalyze (OK, twist my arm), my working theory would be this, as the stimulation phase of this cycle comes closer, I am hypersensitve and my anxiety is rising. The idea of actually being pregnant with a viable pregnancy is SO close. I need to focus on the positive. This can happen.

But damnit if there is not a little, tiny voice that says, It will be your turn soon. You deserve it.

A Rainbow Baby

2012-01-23T22:26:00.000-05:00

Have you heard of this term?

I have. In fact, I follow a blog with this term right in her blog title.

But, I have a confession.

I never understood what it meant.

I didn't take too much time to investigate, because I never felt like I fit into this world of infertility.

I assumed it had to do with the beauty that is a baby.

Today, I got the most beautiful message sent to me from a friend, who paid her dues to the infertility club. She is on the other side and the proud mother of twins.

Here it is:

This made me think of you...you will have your rainbow baby...one day:

Rainbow Babies" are the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it does not mean that the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and the clouds. Storm clouds may still loom over but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy, and much needed hope."

I felt like an idiot for never having investigated the term. It is the most perfect way to sum up the last 12 months. We have been through a storm. Two, if I am being technical. I'm not quite sure that the pain of these experiences will ever go away in their entierty. I am sure, that this pain will change form. I am sure that it will move to the background a little more everyday. It will become a little more dull and less sharp.

Throughout the past 12 months, I have felt ravaged, physically and emotionally. There have been days when I have been full of hope and days where I make peace with being a family of three. What this quote does, is pay tribute to the road many of us have found ourselves traveling while looking to the promise of the future.

While I wait for my rainbow baby, I am strengthened by our friends and family. They have stepped in to provide the sunshine and hope when I feel dark and scared.

Rainbow baby, we are waiting with open arms.

The Daily Minutiae

2012-01-19T15:39:00.001-05:00

minutiaeplural of mi·nu·ti·ae

Noun: Trivial details of something

Potty Training: in pull-up purgatory. Toddler T finds sitting on the potty less enthraling, so underwear have been replaced by pull-ups. Diapers are no longer acceptable to him so we are playing a waiting game. But, I'm ok with it.

Existentialist Crisis: Over. Why? Several reasons.

Just by writing my thoughts down, I felt less jumbled.
I recevied many messages both public and private about the idea that God does not hand you more than you can handle, regardless of how it winds up in your lap or in my case, uterus. I found this comforting and a good dose of reality.
Mr. T spent an overnight at a man baby shower. I can assure you, no one was writing down the dad's suspected weight, or measuring his stomach. In reality, it was a last hurrah for him, as this man-shower also coincided with playoff games. None of that is important. What is important is that several of the attendees where dad's of multiplies via IVF. They got to share their perspectives and that was much appreciated.
I am excited. One, Two.. I'm ok with either. I am just ready to get to the point where I am pregnant. I am ready to think about names, and baby clothes and Christmas Cards and all those other things that pop into your mind when you are pregnant.

Weekend Agenda:

Friday: Aquarium!! Mommy, Daddy and Toddler T Day!!! Followed by, dinner at a new Mexican Restaraunt (Just Mr. T and I. So excited. Dinner, Adult conversation and a margarita!

Saturday: Entertaining our friends' girls while the parents pack up their home for an upcoming move. It is true, the more the merrier. A whole morning can sail by when Toddler T has a few pals to keep his attention.

Sunday: Playoffs... a few more weeks and then football is behind us.

But the best of all- Next Friday will be here before I know it and that is my FIRST monitoring appointment to see if I can go ahead with the stimulation meds for IVF 1.5!

Pulling the Higher Power card

2012-01-16T20:17:00.001-05:00

There has been a facet of infertility treatment that has always been ironic to me. I have always been intrigued by how people can use religion to justify or condemn infertility treatments. More so, I am really intrigued when people may use religion to justify or condemn portions of infertility treatments. Religion and the treatment of infertility have one thing in common, they are filled with grey areas that can be open for personal choice.

Why the religious focus today? Today, I am grappling with choice versus higher power.

When Mr. T and I envisioned our family we always looked at 2 kids/2 parents. It seemed like a good fit. Occasionally, I thought about 3 kids/2 parents but never felt strongly about it. So, we fell into the idea that we would be a 2/2 family. Man-to-man defense as opposed to Zone Defense. It worked for us. When we started meeting with Dr. Specialist, he assured us that at my age coupled with the current standards of care in IVF, we would be looking at a single embryo transfer. This made sense. 2/2 family and we are happy. Then, the cycle was cancelled, my AMH was ridiculously low for a girl my age and I've been labeled a 'poor responder'. Dr. Specialist changes his recommendation and talks of a 2 embryo transfer.

This is where everything gets murky.

Twins run in both our families. I even joked when I was pregnant with Toddler T, that it must be twins. I looked like I was carrying quads. But, no.. just one little/big boy. After he arrived, Mr. T and I felt relieved that we had been given one at a time. But now, I'm that much older, we are paying out of pocket and I hear myself saying things like "Lots of people have twins."

Now it is murkier.

I believe in religion and faith. I do believe that there were lessons to learn this past year. Perhaps, Mr. T and I are going to be better parents if our children are further apart in age and someone up there knew that. This belief has made the past year bearable. But then, I got off the higher power train and met with Dr. Specialist. IVF is medical and scientific. From a religious standpoint, you could argue that God provided individuals with the talent, intellect and determination to become a doctor who specializes in infertility. Therefore, we are just taking a detour to get to the final destination in God's plan.

But how much is too much? How much control should we have? Because I am in the middle of what I have always found to be ironic. I have heard Infamous Multiple Moms say the same thing over and over and over. Usually something like, "Well it was god's plan for us to have 8, 6, 5 kids at once." But really, was it? Did God plan for us to have this much control?

How can an individual talk about the unpleasant sides of IVF (read: selective reduction) with religious fire? How can one claim that reduction is immoral or not God's will, when many religions teach that birth control or any type of infertility treatment is immoral? So, it is ok to break religious views to get pregnant.. but not ok to really struggle with carrying multiples?

If I were to have gotten pregnant, on my own, with twins or above. It would have been what it was. It's not like I would have left the other at the hospital and said, "No, sorry, we didn't sign up for two." But here, we are being asked to do just that. Sign up for something that we had always wondered if it was too much.

I'm not sure I have any answers. It is a challenging discussion to have internally, let alone with other people. I have always thrived in a black and white enviornment and have struggled in the grey. I know that while I don't know the total plan or how much say I'm supposed to have in it, Mr. T and I will try to make the safest and most reasonable decisions for our family. And whether we continue to use man to man or make the switch to zone defense, we'll be just fine.

Well, that was fast.

2012-01-08T16:28:00.001-05:00

A new record on a broken New Year's Resolution.

It is January 8th and I completely broke it. You see, my hope was to write a blog entry in a few weeks about the success of my resolution. I was planning on being very proud of myself and hopefully, helping someone who is dealing with any type of fertility treatments avoid this mistake. Since I'm not too proud of myself, I will share my broken resolution. So, since you can't learn from my tale of success.... learn from my mistakes.

In 2012 I was not going to live my life by the calendar.

"Examples, please?" you ask.

Here you go.

In 2012, was going to refrain from saying any version of the following:

The next time I get my hair cut, I will be pregnant.
Oh, perfect, I can wear a maternity dress to that.
XYZ event/holiday/celebration will be OK, because I will be pregnant.
Toddler T will be exactly (____) fill in the blank, age when his sibling arrives.
I can't do that, because I will most likely have a doctor's appointment that day.
I shouldn't be able to do that, because I'll probably be doing my transfer/retrieval/bed rest that day.
By the time we have Toddler T's two and a half year old well visit, I will be pregnant and can ask the Doctor for advice on expanding a family.

You get the point. Not pretty and a little crazy.

So what did I do today? Why is my resolution broken?

Well, I looked at a sample Lupron Micro-Dose Flare Calendar and then calculated my information. This coming from a girl who has been through a cancelled cycle. I know better, I do. Red circles on a calendar mean nothing when held up against the results from an ultrasound and or blood work. But, I did it.

And guess what, it is bringing a little smile to my face to know when the 'magic' might happen.

So, if I had to offer up a little Monday Morning Quarterbacking (The playoffs are on in the T Household.), I'd say this. Sure, look at a calendar for this month and the next. But try your hardest not to fantasize the events that are further off than that. I've been to weddings in my spanx and not a forgiving maternity dress. I switched hairdressers because during my last cut, I hinted to expanding my family. I've celebrated holidays and birthdays with a different wish than I intended.

I brought those experiences on myself and I made things harder than they needed to be. But... once in a while, it feels right to think about the positive side of what if and have a date on the calendar to mark it by.

And we're off

2012-01-04T14:01:00.005-05:00

I started my day at the baby lab at 7:30am. It was very dark and very cold when I left my house. Funny, I was kind of feeling the same. I have been thinking a lot about this upcoming cycle and my conflicting emotions and a 45 min car ride at 6:45 am was just the time to address them.

I am not going to lie, I am dealing with an incredible sense of fearing the process and already dreading a negative outcome. 3 months ago, I went in for cycle day 1 blood work, left with a tentative calendar and a prescription for birth control. I left in a state of euphoria and hope. Finally after 9 months and two ectopic pregnancies, I was leaving a doctor's appointment with hope and the belief that success was guaranteed. (To be fair, no one guaranteed me that success BUT I was doing IVF for tubal and not hormonal issues.)

Fast forward to last night, I am not feeling euphoric or hopeful. I am feeling anxious as I have the experience of being let down. I could not sleep. I was feeling conflicted. I really and truly wanted to get this IVF show on the road. Yet, I also found myself taking some comfort in the forced break. You cannot fail at what you cannot start. This forced break both infuriated and protected me. And now, it was over. Cycle Day 1 was here. (Mother nature stepped in and helped this girl out). What I was waiting for and dreading was here.

How's that for a mixed bag?

Dr. Million.pictures.on.the.wall said that if I did not succeed at this upcoming cycle, then he would have a very clear picture of what my overall chances of achieving a pregnancy via IVF would be. (not good) Therefore, I look at this cycle as my 'best and final offer' cycle.

So, where I am I tonight? It is once again dark and cold outside. But I am toasty under my most favorite brown blanket. I am still feeling a range of emotions. I am feeling vulnerable. I am feeling scared. I am feeling anxious. I am about to find a fair or carnival and shake down the fortune teller for her crystal ball because God knows, I am not a patient person. But most importantly, I am feeling hopeful. I am going to take the very real but negative emotions and attempt to put them in the backseat. I acknowledge that they are there... lest anyone think I am running around with visions of rainbows and cute little puppies in my head. But they cannot take over. They cannot be the drum beat that I hear. I will try and be positive. But then I have to not be so positive that I've named my additional offspring.

This is a tricky dance.

In the meantime, I will pray. I will take my baby aspirin and prenatal vitamins. I will put my faith in this new protoco (microdose flare)l. I will hang on tight to this bumpy ride. I won't take the baby name book out just yet, but will review the injection video on youtube. When you are paying cash for really expensive drugs, the last thing you want to do is screw up an injection. I did that in the first cycle. The only positive thing was that I got to use the phrase "I just flushed xxx amount of money down the toilet" and it was true. I literally flushed the improperly mixed meds down the toilet. I Will not make that mistake again.

Balancing

2012-01-03T14:07:00.000-05:00

Our tree is down.
Ornaments packed securely away.
I have vacuumed the family room 3 times.
I have my eye on an arts and crafts project for Valentine's Day.
Toddler T went to nursery school in pull-ups and came home dry.
Tomorrow I go back to the baby-lab for blood work and an ultrasound.
I hope to get an idea of what we do next.

This is how I balance.

I'm a mom of pacifier dependant, potty training, humorous toddler and I'm also trying very hard to give him a sibling. Here is a good example. I canceled my baby-lab appointment today. I can hear the gasp's. The remarks. "What, she cancelled a baby-lab appointment?" or "Who does that? " or "IVF treatment above all else!!!!" Now, please exhale and let me explain.

Balance, It is healthy.

I made the appointment for my blood work and ultrasound while sitting in my friend's kitchen and helping two, two year olds get settled for lunch. Something was nagging at me the whole time. Something felt amiss. Then I got home and realized. Toddler T will be back at nursery school this morning. In pull ups. After a week's vacation. It was important for me to go with him. To take him to the school bathroom and explore it. I could not be in two places at the same time.

So, I balanced.

Toddler T to school today. Non-critical lab appointment tomorrow.

It felt to take some control.

Because if all goes well, in a few weeks I will be back to living life by the IVF calendar and will be surrendering control to Dr. Specialist.

Oh God, are you there? It's me, Mrs. T

2011-12-31T14:40:00.001-05:00

This seems like a fitting title for me today.

Young Margaret and I share some things in common. Ok, she is 14 and I am 34, but we are both desperately waiting for our periods, cycles, menses... Whatever you'd prefer to call them we are both enlisting in a higher power to summon them.

In a previous post, I mentioned that I did not have one.single.issue.ever. when it came to my gyn history. I was dependable. Like clockwork. But now, I have spent 2 weeks injecting myself with drugs that didn't work. What they did do, was wreck havoc on my cycle. Dr. Specialist told me that I would be back on track 6 days following the last injection of Lupron. Here it is 23 days later and I'm looking at another ultrasound and blood draw to see what's going on.

I called the nurse yesterday to figure out what to do next. She agreed it's time for that ultrasound and blood work. She said that I probably felt like I'm wasting time.

Seriously. Come on. FEEL like I'm wasting time. I AM wasting time.

What does this mean... well, the promise that "I'd look good for an egg retrieval and embryo(s) transfer mid-January" just went.right.out.the.friggin.window. It means that it's more likely February. It means that another month is going by. It means that we are still waiting.

So, 2011, it is time for you to leave. It is time for your empty promises, failed deadlines and craptastic doctor's appointments to be a thing of the past.

2012, I welcome you with open arms. Please, be kind to us.

Tonight we will ring in the New Year and I will pray for strength for tomorrow and continued happiness with what we do have today. I wish the same to all of you that have stopped by to read and leave a comment. They are wonderful to read and are very much appreciated.

What to do with my free time?

2011-12-27T21:22:00.001-05:00

Why, potty train, of course!

I thought figuring out how to mix my ~~million dollar~~ very expensive, hormone cocktail was stressful. Boy, was I wrong. Self-injecting super pricey meds for an unknown outcome was nothing compared to potty training.

Who knew?

There are approximately 876 different techniques of how to get your child our of diapers. I know this because I have scoured every resource on the world wide web. I have talked with friends. I have talked it over with Mr. T. I have consulted with both grandmothers. What I have realized is - everyone has their own best method. But the kick is, it's not only figuring out WHAT method to use... it's figuring out WHEN to start.

I decided that today was the day. I decided that we were going cold turkey. No pull-ups.

So, I told Mr. T, today is the day. I turned the heat up in the house. I even dressed Big Elmo in some new knickers. I announced that today was the day and handed Toddler T his new big boy truck underwear. We spent the day playing with new Christmas toys. I in my jammies, Toddler T in a sweatshirt, underwear and socks... we both looked good! Things went great (for day 1). And then it was time to sleep.

Round 3 decisions... Are we night and day training at the same time? Will he wear a diaper? Rubber pants? Plain old truck underwear. I was panicked. I put a garbage bag under his fitted sheet. I tried rubber pants and he said "Off! These are scratchy." Off came the rubber pants. I guess I'm just diving on in. Toddler T was put to bed in the truck underwear.

For the record, I have changed the sheets once. I contemplated a diaper. I stood strong.

It is 9:15 he is still awake and is usually asleep by 7:45. I hear him singing little diddy's right now. I'm staying downstairs and will try not to research potty training to death on the Internet.

But, if anyone would like to throw a tip my way...... feel free.

Life Ain't All Hormones, There is Christmas too.

2011-12-26T20:53:00.001-05:00

I am on an IVF Break.

It is funny the way your opinions change with a little distance. When my first attempt at my first IVF cycle began to circle the drain, I couldn't imagine anything more awful. A king's ransom was just spent on drugs, I had injected myself in the stomach, in the bathroom, of three places that were not my home and I could not deal with the thought of ONE MORE FLIPPIN' DELAY. I wanted, I needed to have this work. I felt owed a positive pregnancy test by Christmas morning. I was pretty sure I was on Santa's nice list and I asked him and every other higher power for it to come true. But no. It was not to be. My body did not want to cooperate. The decision was made. Suspend the cycle.

The nurse at the clinic tried to boost my morale (while gauging whether or not I was going completely mental). She mentioned that at least I'd be able to enjoy the holidays without spending every other day getting bloodwork, panicking about the dreaded 2WW (two week wait) or just being immersed in a cycle. At the time, I contemplated kicking her in the shins. I couldn't imagine a more flippant response to my situation. Putting a positive spin on this most recent setback? Was she already hitting the holiday punch? What I heard her say was "Oh relax, have some egg nog and eat a candy cane." I left with a pit in my stomach and cried the whole way home. Yes, I even had those 'why me' thoughts. Not my finest moments.

Tonight, I'm sitting here with Mr. T. Toddler T is upstairs snuggled in with Elmo, warm jammies and a few pacifiers. (I'm aware he's getting to be on the old-ish side for the pacifiers, but I just can't face taking away his beloved BB's). I'm being reflective. We had a fantastic Christmas. Perfect mix of family time, food and holiday cheer. There were only 1 or 2 Toddler T meltdowns. And yes, I avoided one by allowing a nutritionally void Christmas dinner. Buttered rolls, m&m's and chocolate milk, is Toddler T dined on. That child did not have one nutritious thing to eat in 24 hours, and he is just fine. We even had our prime rib leftovers on the carpet tonight. Toddler T just loves a "Picmic"

So, while I once dreaded the idea of not being involved in the IVF cycle over the holidays, I have since changed my tune. I think 2011 has been a mixed bag, to say the least. Maybe my Karma will be rejuvenated in 2012 and we be successful. I hope we are, because a 2 year old, is the best thing ever during the Holidays. Who can resist hearing "Mehwee Chwithmuth"?

Below the surface

2011-12-22T20:18:00.000-05:00

Today was a day I've been waiting for for a long time. Before I became a mother, I knew what I wanted in life. I wanted to be married. I wanted to be a mother. I wanted to make cupcakes for school holiday parties. I wanted to come to recitals with my camera. I wanted to be able to stay at home with my child(ren) for as long as made sense. Today, I realized all of the big dreams and the small dreams were coming true.

I sat as, a mother, and watched my child in his first show. It was three songs. It was ridiculously adorable. He sang when no one else was and then was quiet when the other children were singing. He cracked me up and I took way too many pictures.

Today was good. Christmas is coming. Grocery list is complied.

So, why the sadness that is trying to peek through?

Because, our family is not yet complete. And right now there isn't a damn thing I can do to change it. We are in a waiting period before we can get back to IVF. Because, I'm less naive and know that IVF is not a guarantee.

I try not to go there, too often. But once in awhile, I hear... "What if?"

What if our 2nd attempt at IVF doesn't work? What if our family remains a family of 3? These questions don't deserve top billing in my brain, but they do creep to the surface. I want them gone. I want to be past the uncertainty. I want to have a 20 second pity party and then move on.

And I will move on, because, today was a great day.

And Christmas is coming!

And I feel grateful for what I do have, with sprinkles on top.

Strep, No Nap and Flowers

2011-12-21T20:11:00.000-05:00

I'll just bet that you thought that the first two words were related to Toddler T.

Nope.

He did not nap today.
But I shouldn't complain, he took a 4.5 hour nap on Monday. The sad thing is, I was convinced that he was going to wake up any minute. Therefore, I would not start any large task. You know, like cleaning the house from top to bottom to get prepared for Christmas, ironing napkins or cleaning out the fridge. Nope, nothing. Just a few loads of laundry and a whole lot of Internet time.
Looking back, perhaps I was a tad lazy that afternoon.

But back to the riddle at hand.

No Nap goes to Toddler T. Any guesses about the next two?

Strep

That's me. I have strep.
Right, like I'm 10 years old.
Like I haven't had my fill of doctors this past year.
But I don't mind entirely.
This doctor is fantastic, and he gave Toddler T a mock check up, too.
And anyone who is engaged with my child wins with me.

Now - FLOWERS

ME!!! Flowers, delivered to me.
From Mr. T. with a sweet sentiment about giving the boot to 2011.
Is there anything better than that?
Pretty flowers with my name on the card, just because.
JUST BECAUSE.

I agree with Mr T, adios 2011.

Free Therapy

2011-12-20T21:20:00.000-05:00

When I decided to start this blog, my initial reaction was to make it anonymous. Hence, the monikers. But then I worried, what if no one reads it. I have things that I want to say and want validated, but struggle with saying them out loud. So I am feeling a little stuck.

Do I, "Empower" myself (Can't tell you how many times I've used the word empowered over the last 10 years. It actually makes me laugh a little.) and tell anyone who will listen that this is what I'm living with. Or. Muddle through it.

It is the most ironic position for a former family therapist/social worker. Throughout my career as a ~~well paid~~ social worker, I've talked with patients and their families about some pretty devastating things. Think telling a parent that their 20-something year old, 4.0 student who is a musical prodigy, just had a classic psychotic break and will never return to their former level of functioning or explaining to a mom that her haunch was correct and her child had been the victim of assault. Then guide those parents in processing this diagnosis, situations, feelings. The stories I have are endless, but just imagine, this is what I did. Day in, Day out. Let's talk, let's communicate, let's remember to use "I" statements.

But talk with the average peer/family member/mom at nursery school about this. Yeah, totally-tongue tied. Deerinheadlights when someone asks me when I'm giving Toddler T a sibling. (Um, when I get on the right protocol and say several Novena's to Saint Gerard)

I attribute this inability to communicate to a few factors.

People are generally uncomfortable talking about something that is typically a private affair between two parties.
People are soemthimes looking for an 'out' to this converation and quickly say "just relax, nature will take its course" or "oh course it will happen, enjoy what you have in the meantime." Because it is not a comfortable topic to discuss.
People are very unsure about talking about miscarriage and what type of attachment you had. IE Fetus vs. Baby.
People like happy endings and thinking about a sad outcome is too much. (Face it, how badly did you want Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn's characters to get back together in The Break-Up?)
This list could go on and on. But please take note, my reasons for these conversations going awry are positive.
OK- I can't resist, some people are just inconsiderate. (Wheezy - that's for you)

And you are thinking, how does this relate to the title of the post?

As I mentioned, this was originally going to be anonymous, but I still craved some validation. So, I sent the link to some of the closest people in my circle and to a few that I thought would appreciate the view into what was going on in the T household. A friend wrote back some kind words and said that at the very least its 'free therapy'. Couldn't be more true.

Before this was launched, I did my due-diligence. I researched acupuncture and mindfulness. Sure I could lose a few lbs (Christmas cookies, be damned) And I even once saw a counselor. But these were not what I needed. I have Toddler T. How could, I justify spending more money and asking family members to babysit even more (not that they complained) so I could sit and have needles poked in me and someone coach me on relaxing. Just thinking about it made my stress level rise. And for the record, the counselor meant well. But I fought the urge to punch this gal in the throat when she asked me to tell her about losing my baby. She was talking the remnants of ectopic #1. I heard 'tell me about losing your baby' and only thought of Toddler T.

As far as patient, counselor moments go.. that was pretty damn awkward. But, I completed my 3 free sessions with her through my then-employer's EAP plan. (If you are working and think you might want to explore the idea of counseling, check with your employer. You may just have access to FREE sessions.) And aside from our glitch, Counselor was very empathic and helped me process the previous medical drama in my life.

I guess I have three messages here:

One, if you are dealing with something that seems bigger than you, get involved in something that eases that load, exercise, counseling, being more social, writing, meditating, acupuncture. You get the point. Try to keep it on the positive side, drinking, shopping and opening up multiple credit cards, avoiding people, avoiding food, will never get you anywhere good. An evening watching A&E will teach you that.

Two, if someone attempts to share with you her or his (dad's are impacted too), experience with infertility, secondary infertility, miscarriage or infant loss, listen and breathe. We are struggling just as much as you are to get through the conversation.

Three, listen some more. I told Counselor that I was not attached to the first pregnancy. I did not equate that loss with the loss of life, other than my own. Therefore, the her misguided but well-intentioned request to describe the loss of my baby was more than I can bear. Toddler T is alive and healthy and the center of the T world. He is my baby. End of story. This reaction is 100% situational. Anyone who has experienced miscarriage will have a different reaction and will process that loss differently. So again, listen.

For the record, I am finding this semi-anonymous blog a good way to feel both empowered and less muddled. And, our families are doing a pretty fantastic job of being amazingly supportive.

Toddlers, Sprinkles and 2IF

2011-12-18T21:26:00.000-05:00

If there is one thing a curious 2 1/2 year old is good for, it is forcing you to live in the moment.

It is the Holiday Season and I have a child who is mesmerized by it. The lights. The songs. The cookies. The candy canes. The fact that Santa sent him a video on mommy's computer. The tacky, singing plush holiday bears. All of it, he loves it all.

And I love watching him take it all in.

So sure, I can feel steamrolled by Secondary Infertility. Truth be told.. I often do. But today and this week it is all about Christmas. No Doctors, No blood draws, No feeling of dread.

Fa la la la la la la la la

So I have a house decorated, presents wrapped, Christmas cards mailed, Christmas Day menu planned. (Prime Rib if you are wondering) and cookies. Lots and lots of cookies. I love cookies.

Toddler T and I baked cookies together (togedder, as he would say). If you are getting cookies from me, don't panic. He washed his hands first and didn't double dip too much.

Let me say a word about baking with a toddler. PREP. Prep like you are Paula Deen with everything in a pretty clear glass bowl. (But make them plastic). Forget about a step stool, drag the toddler table into the middle of your kitchen and set aside your expectations of 'pretty' cookies. I used to pride myself on making beautiful sugar cookies that were perfectly iced. Well, this year it was all drop cookies with more sprinkles on the cookie sheet than the actual cookie. And I loved them just the same.

This cloud of secondary infertility may be hanging over my head. But my feet remain firmly planted in the here and now of life with Toddler T, because Santa is coming and that is magical. If all that merriment and wonder wasn't enough, my kitchen looks like a spinkle bomb exploded and needs my attention.

As Clark Griswold so poignantly expressed it, " I am going to have the hap hap happiest Christmas this side of the nuthouse." And I will.

The Fix-it-Up Chappie

2011-12-16T14:58:00.000-05:00

“My friends”, he announced in a voice clear and clean,
“My name is Sylvester McMonkey McBean.
And I’ve heard of Your troubles. I’ve heard you’re unhappy.
But I can fix that, I’m the Fix-It-Up Chappie.

I’ve come here to help you.
I have what you need.
And my prices are low. And I work with great speed.
And my work is one hundred per cent guaranteed!”

Then, quickly, Sylvester McMonkey McBean
Put together a very peculiar machine.
And he said, “You want stars like a Star-Belly Sneetch?
My friends, you can have them for three dollars each!”

“Just pay me your money and hop right aboard!”
So they clambered inside. Then the big machine roared.
And it klonked. And it bonked. And it jerked. And it berked.
And it bopped them about. But the thing really worked!
When the Plain-Belly Sneetches popped out, they had stars!
They actually did. They had stars upon thars!

As the title goes, this is Toddlers and Test Tubes. So I may pull my materials from the world around me. This is a quote from one of Toddler T's favorite books, "The Sneetches" by Dr. Suess. We just read it tonight. As I type, he is currently as snug as a bug in a rug and Mr. T has headed out to a work Christmas Party.

This story is meant to teach tolerance. Lately, it reminds me of the IVF process and my doctor, Dr. Millionpicturesonthewall.

Why, does this remind me of Dr. M?

Because he is smooth. He is ~~cocky~~ very confidant. He really does have a million pictures and articles on his wall proclaiming that he is practically the Messiah of Reproductive Endocrinology. Oh, and he told Mr. T that he has 'super-sperm' and me, that I'd be a "Slam-dunk". He spoke confidantly of smooth process, embryo transfer mid-December and happy closure by Christmas. He stressed that my issues were tubal not hormonal and since IVF would bypass those pesky tubes, I'd be set. He may just bill himself as the real-life 'Fix-it-Up Chappie."

Now, for the comparisons to the process of IVF. IVF, in my experience and opinion is like a very peculiar machine. Where I found myself clambering inside, paying our money (I wish it was $3 each) and getting klonked, bonked, jerked and berked only to be popped outside on the other end. Except we aren't trying to pop out with Stars Upon Ours.. but rather a pregnancy. I was so (and still am) willing to get in Sylvester McMonkey McBeans's machine because it holds the promise of what I want.

Before I go too far with my posts and leave the majority of you all thinking that I am seeing this doctor against my will, let me clarify. I realize that my descriptions of him are less than becoming. I refer to him as Dr. Specialist, Dr. Millionpicturesonthewall or Dr. M for short. That is my emotional reaction to him. Not my intellectual one. You see, I do not worship doctors. I have had the privilege of working beside some really, really smart ones. I respect doctors and see them as individuals who had the intelligence and tenacity to complete their training. I believe they should get the same respect as every other person on their team, from the receptionist, to the tech, to the embryologist to the housekeeper. So when Dr. M patted me on the back with a bright smile and said that this would be fine... I was skeptical. I thought he was seeing us as a way to bolster his clinic success rates. I did not care for the broad-brush statements, when so many doctors before him had been proven wrong. But you see, those were my emotions. My thoughts were clear. This man is brilliant and I'm not asking for him to be my tennis partner ( not that I play, but you get the comparison). I am asking him to help use have a safe and successful pregnancy. And judging by his education and proven track record, I think I've picked the right guy.

It was this support of his intellect that proved to be incredibly challenging when we had our consultation following the cancellation of my IVF cycle. (Trying to keep my time line straight, go here.). Going into the cycle, I knew my AMH was low and yet I went through 3 weeks of needles, several monitoring appointments and a boat load of money to be cancelled. CANCELLED, due to poor response. That consult was last week and it still stings. We will try to complete our IVF cycle in January. The meds will be stronger and the anxiety will be higher. It's like we are going into a bidding war over buying a house and our realtor has just told us to come back with our best and final offer.

If that attempt fails, the following consult will definitely include the words, egg donation and or adoption. While there is nothing wrong with these two words. I keep feeling blindsided.

In-Vitro Fertilization and The Emotions

2011-12-16T14:11:00.001-05:00

IVF, Test-Tube Babies, Octomom and Kate + 8.

These words and personas are such a part of our culture. Because of this, you think you understand what these moms must be going through. How they feel. The truth is, you can't. It's not because you don't want to. It's not because you are a cold-hearted person incapable of empathy. It's because you just can't.

(OK, honestly no one knows what the hell was going through Octomom's head or even Kate with that reverse mullet)

To be fair, I know what I am going through. I don't know what the girl, sitting in the next chair at the doctor's office, is going through. Even if we are both on the exact same 'cycle day' doing the exact same treatment. I don't know her pain and she doesn't know mine. IVF brings with it so many emotions like anger, sadness, frustration. It also brings forward some really tricky ones like vulnerability, fragility and feelings of being powerless. It will make you question everything you know about faith and religion. It doesn't matter what those beliefs are. When you trust that your body is capable in doing something and find out sort of the opposite your beliefs can go through the wringer.

With that said, I am not about to get on a soapbox about religion. Religion, your salary, your mortgage balance and what you wish for when you blow out your birthday candles are things better left unsaid. I will go so far as to say, I do believe in religion. I believe very strongly that people are put in your life to help you through low points.

Case in point, my good friend Wheezey. Clearly, not her real name. But one I heard her husband call her. She and I were social workers together and generally had a great time in each other's company. While I was living in the la-la land of being a newlywed. She was embarking on her journey with IVF. We parted ways and moved to different areas of the country. We kept each other updated on our lives through the occasional email or phone call. After ectopic #1. She was one of the first I called. She didn't understand exactly where I was, but she knew enough to speak kindly. Let it be noted that she has never once said, " Thank God, you have Toddler T. Imagine how much worse it would be if you didn't."

My path crossed Wheezey's because I was going to need her. And I do. It has been a breath of fresh air to hear someone tell it like it is, to normalize my emotions and fears and to tell me when it's time for a glass of wine.

How did I get here?

2011-12-15T16:50:00.002-05:00

Well, if you've stumbled across my blog, you arehere for a few reasons.

1. You made a mistake in your search.

2. You have a friend/sister/cousin/wife/partnerdealing with infertility and aren't sure what to say.

3. You yourself are dealing with infertility orsecondary infertility (as is my case).

In any event, welcome. Feel free to stay. Maybeyou'll learn something. Maybe you'll laugh. Maybe you'll tear up. (I hope not,but you might).

Now, that's how you may have gotten here.How I ended up in the murky waters of secondary infertility is not asimple 1, 2 or 3.

When Toddler T was about 18 months old, Mr. T and Idecided that it would be a good time to consider giving him a sibling. Weattended our friends' wedding and figured we knew what the outcome would be. Fast forward 3 months later and a positive pregnancy test. It wasjoyous, for about 12 hours and then something changed. A dark feeling cameover me. I called the nurseline to schedule my 8 week appointment and to reportthat I was having trouble keeping my head out of the toilet bowl. She laughed,"Welcome to your second pregnancy, honey. I'll call in some Zofran." The next two weeks were spent at the lab, giving vials of blood and onthe Internet researching everything under the sun about miscarriage. I wasspotting, I was not responding to the Zofran. I was told "thatthings didn't look good","Sometimes, a pregnancy is just not meant tobe." and the absolute best "We are practicing watchful waiting".

I refused to get attached to the pregnancy. I knewmy beta levels weren't rising appropriately. I knew. I just did. Now would be agood time to mention that my mother is an ER nurse and a brilliant one. Mymother in law is a midwife and my aunt is an ob/gyn. They knew. They knewsomething was up. They wondered why my doctor was not ordering an early ultrasoundto confirm the location of the pregnancy. But they trusted my Dr/Patientrelationship and let me make my own health care decisions.

Well, that watchful waiting got me into the ER witha ruptured ectopic pregnancy. Was I surprised? No. I knew all along somethingwasn't right. Did I know that I was going to pass out mid- ultrasound infront of Mr. T? God no. Did I know that a ruptured ectopic is lifethreatening? No, I did not.

Always one to be a little over the top. This storydoes not end with emergency surgery, a removed right tube and a pat on theback. No, 4 hours after discharge I was back in the ER needing a bloodtransfusion. I owe that trip to the diligent watch of my mom. She was alreadyreeling from the past 24 hours and was on high alert as my mom/nurse. I was sofurious, I tried to refuse to go the hospital. She took one look at mebasically told me I didn't have a choice.

I took a week off of work, collected myself.Returned to work, gave my notice and began my new life as stay at home mom toToddler T. I followed up with my doctor and got the all clear to commencewith adding to our family. I was reassured that the ectopic was a fluke and waspleasantly surprised to feel like a normal pregnant girl in just a few months.I was feeling so appropriately nauseous that at my viability ultrasound, Ibegan joking with the tech. Telling her that by this time with the last one, Iwas already a passed out. Did I speak too quickly? Yes, Yes, I did.

The tech said "Have you gotten bloodworkdone?" and "Have you had any spotting?" And once again, I knew.Just knew. Holy Hell.. something isn't right. Off to the ER again. Betawas 9000, nothing could be seen on ultrasound. A doctor from my groupcame to my beside and told me that she was 99% I miscarried and that a D&Cwas the way to go. Then I got a migraine. Then I got dilaudid and didn't reallycare what happened next.

So, off to surgery I go. Guess what, the pregnancywas NOT where it should be. I hear the words ectopic again. I am crushed. Thenext doctor admits me to the hospital with the working theory that the ectopicpregnancy is in the stump of my right tube. She was 99% sure itwasn't in my left. (the only one remaining). I was not allowed to leave thehospital. Did I mention there was a hurricane blowing into town. So, off to the2nd surgery in 24 hours. Imagine Mr. T's surprise when the doctor leavessurgery to tell him that it was in my left tube and did he want her to save thetube or remove it. It should be noted that I am a former social worker. So, Italk things out a lot. Given my nature to talk, we had discussed such ascenario and agreed that the tube should be saved if possible. So, that's whatwas done.

I awoke from surgery, groggy and with a picture ofmy Fallopian tube being held inches from my face. All I heard was the word"left". And once again, I knew. Baby # 2 was going to a biggerchallenge than I ever thought.

Does the story end here? No, remember, I have beenknown to be dramatic. We leave the hospital and pack up for the familytrip to the beach. I get a call. It's my doctor. She is calling personally. Labresults aren't good. Need to come home for a shot of methotrexate. My body isstill showing signs of pregnancy. Mr. T and I say goodbye to Toddler T. ( Wewere with my parents) and head to the specialist. The reproductiveendocrinologist. (RE for those in the know). He is tan. He is cocky. Heis obviously brilliant, given the number of framed pictures of himself on hiswall. He tells me I'll be fine. And in comes the nurse with a large shot of achemo drug and a list of recommendations to avoid alcohol, leafy greens andsun. I guess she didn't realize I was in the middle of my vacation. Icould ditch the salads, but the sun and the alcohol. Awesome.

Now, one would thinkthat after two surgeries, one shot of methotrexate and a few (a lot) of tears.I would be able to move on. I asked my Dr. how I should go about creating baby# 2. She said "If you try it alone... pray. Otherwise, its time to startlooking into IVF"

And here I am.