Friday, November 30, 2007

Count Down to Shoot Up

  1. Schedule received: check.
  2. Calendar to track timing of shots, blood draws, etc hung back on wall of my little "shooting up room": check.
  3. Meds for me and donor ordered and paid for: check.
  4. Credit cards pulled back out and maxed again to pay for cycle: check. Meds will be delivered to our door on Monday morning.

Ok, so, everything is in order. On track to start again, all over again, on WEDNESDAY. Just found out that in her last donor cycle, our donor had 23 follicles, 16 of which matured, and although it didn't result in a pregnancy, that lucky couple now has 12 embies on ice to try again with. Twelve! Recall that our first donor had so few follicles that we canceled the cycle. Twice.

All of this, fantastic news on top of the last set of great news. So why is it that I am a second away from sobs?

I've been in a funk for a few days now. You'd think I was already on lupron by the way that I have had no ability to focus, let alone work. Useless. I have been useless. And I think I have finally pinpointed what my problem is:

I am scared.

How to explain. The first few times, honestly, this felt more like an experiment. Like, wouldn't it be cool if....But now. Now, dammit, I am invested. I am hopeful. I am wanting. And I am near tears every time I think about the possibility of it not working. Am I willfully setting myself up for a heartbreak that I might not be able to bear?

Monday, November 26, 2007

Super Great News

Great News #1 - I start lupron December 5th thus marking the beginning of a new DE cycle. That's just a little more than a week away. Good lordessa, has anyone been so eager to begin a daily routine of needles and pins?

Great News #2 - Remember way back when I told you about this scholarship fund for young adult cancer survivors? And how the application involved all kinds of paperwork and essays and the like? Well, I just got off the phone with Sam from the SAMFund and it turns out I am one of this year's recipients!!!!

They received three times the amount of applications this year, which was completely unexpected. Their funding rate dropped from 60% to 38%. But luckily, thankfully, blessedly, I was among the 38%. The scholarship fund allows you to apply for up to $5000 for fertility-related expenses. I will (or rather, my clinic) will be receiving $2500!!! Just in time to help for this cycle.

What news. What great, great news. Happy Thanksgiving indeed.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

The First Snow

...of the season is falling as I type.

Meanwhile, I am finally recovering from a weekend long snot fest and hubby is now shivering in bed - looks like he is just about ready to begin his. FYI - I have a much higher tolerance for discomfort than him. Oh yes, and my bedside manner is much worse. I think we would both rather it be me that's the sicky.

Ah winter. I love it, but then again, I don't.

Saturday, November 17, 2007


First and foremost: thank you, ladies, for your sentiments and soothing words for my friends and my fears. They were very appreciated. And you are right. If I am lucky enough to get pregnant, I know that I will probably panic with every random bleed, bump, and belch. But I have to tell you how overjoyed I was to see that H had her baby this week. It's like a little beacon in the distance for me, letting me know that it can happen. Maybe even for me.

Now, on to the random.

I've been home sick since Friday morning. Actually, the sickness started mid-morning on Thursday. Snot started pouring out of my nostrils, sinuses started swelling and all has just now started to cease. This condition has given me ample time to start reading my current fem book club's selection and watch some movies with hubby.

The book is pedestrian. And that's being nice. It's not even chick lit; it's matron lit. Less like reading and more like being guided through a non-stressful sitcom or made-for-Lifetime movie starring Jean Smart or Carol Burnett or some other way-too-talented-to-be-doing-that woman.

So why am I reading it? Part of it is obligation. I am hosting the next Sunday gathering and it will probably be my last hurrah before beginning attempt #3 (which will really be attempt #1 if we make it to transfer). I also have a feeling that some other members will boycott this book entirely since it's not our normal kind of read. And the reason we chose this book in the first place was because it was suggested by a young woman in the group who hadn't suggested anything yet and it was suggested timidly and with a confession of "I'm not really sure it or I am feminist enough...." Which, of course, had our wine soaked selves guffawing and saying "oh no! sister!" Your book is the book we choose! We are all feminists! All books are worthy of a read!" I dutifully got it out of the library and started the chore.

But damn it if I'm not lapping it up like its candy. I'm 100 pages deep already and show no sign of stopping. It's hokey. It's corny. But I can see how one could find it inspiring or empowering, I guess. All I know is that my head hurts right now and its not making it hurt worse so I am all about it. And since I don't have to think so hard as I read it, my mind has been wandering to all sorts of feminist thoughts:

Do I lose all street cred if I confess to you that I love Carole King? I am listening to Tapestry right now and with every song I just want to say, "damn! now that's a woman." I nearly got into a fist fight with hubby when he suggested that she hadn't written one of the songs.

Is there anything funnier than Madeline Kahn's Lili von Shtupp in Blazing Saddles? How can her humor be so subtle and so over the top at the same time? Now that's a woman.

Are there women more mysterious than Persian women? Have a look and see what Josh Moore, an American basketball player who was temporarily playing in Iran, has to say and who he thinks really runs shit. Hubby turned me on to this blog (I count on him for my non-fertility internet news) and I love it. It is honest and sweet and offers perspective that one usually doesn't see.

So, there you have it. Some non sequiturs for your Saturday evening. Now, if you'll excuse me. I've got some reading to do.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

A Confession

Warning: Sensitive info here about miscarriage and loss. Please don't read if you think it will upset you. It might.

I got a text Friday morning from one of our dearest friends. "Call me. Its important."

And so I did. And that's when I learned that he and his partner (who also happens to be hubby's cousin) would most likely be meeting at the emergency room in a few hours. They feared she had a miscarriage the night before. They were right.

This has consumed our weekend. Long talks with our friend, who at 40, was shocked, then thrilled, then absolutely thrilled at the prospect of becoming a father for the first time. The pregnancy was not planned, but not unwanted. The pregnancy and miscarriage has left them both reeling, uncertain of their next steps or of their future together. I am just sad. So sad.

While some of this is not really my story to tell, hubby and I are inextricably linked to it. He is one of our very best friends; she is a blood relative. We introduced them. We watched him as he pined for her from afar. We made it a point to include them both in group outings to give her more confidence in him. One day, they went out without us. For months, we heard little from them, which we interpreted as a good sign. And it was. They were falling in love and making plans to be together in a permanent kind of way.

Then, the bomb dropped. "We are expecting!" I cried. Happy tears, I think. I was so moved by the idea that two people in love really could create another. What a fucking concept, hey?

We helped them move into their new place together, I looked through baby books with her. But I think both hubby and I could sense that things seemed to be moving way too fast for these people who are both notoriously independent and self-reliant. While we had our doubts about their future together together, there were no doubts that the baby was wanted.

But things happen. She began to spot, then bleed, then cramp, then....

And before you know it, our friend is calling at midnight, after hours at the ER with a simple message: "We lost the baby." He cried. I cried. In fact, I have had a hard time not crying all weekend.

Why am I feeling this loss - which is not my loss - so acutely? Because I love my friends? Yes, of course, that's some of it. But it doesn't explain it all, I think.

He called me yesterday to apologize profusely about the midnight call. Hubby filled him in on our situation when he told us theirs. He woke up thinking that he had upset me terribly talking about the miscarriage. God love him. His world is falling apart and he is worried about hurting my feelings. I reassured him that he had done nothing of the sort.

But still, my heart is breaking.

I think because a miscarriage is my greatest fear. When I think of "worse case scenario" in this adventure - that is it. Not a bad retrieval. Not no embryos to freeze. Not a failed transfer. Not even a BFN (big fat negative). I fear a successful transfer that results in a miscarriage. Because then the loss is real.

Please understand. Up until the point where my womb is occupied, pregnancy, motherhood, all of it, remain theoretical concepts to me. Never in my adult life had I ever thought these were possible. Never. Even now after thousands of dollars have been charged, hormones injected, donors chosen, none of this is real for me. Because right now, I have nothing to lose. I am no worse off than when we started. We are no more childless than last year or the year before of the year before. Some of it is cognitive dissonance and a desire to stay sane, stay functional, not get too excited about the possibility. But this is all a pre-pregnancy state of mind.

When hubby and I first discussed donor eggs, I was so wary. And this was the reason: what if it works and then it doesn't? Then, I think, I will be worse off than when we started.

I know so many of you have already experienced this loss, have mourned like my friends are mourning. I hope I haven't offended anyone with my post. I just want you to know that in this moment, I am just a little bit scared of the future.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

So this is what happens

When I go away for a few days. You're all pregnant!

Ok, I've known about Kami for a while, but Rae's announcement took my by complete surprise. This morning's perusal of some of my favorite blogs has left me smiling. Looks like you are all A-ok. Pam and Dmitri are days away from retrieval. Sweet Daisy is counting the days until her transfer, which coincides with Thanksgiving. WifeThereOf is transferring TODAY. Drowned Girl, Peep and StacyB are full of baby goodness. And H at Mi Historia is ready to pop any day now.

I've followed H's pregnancy so intently because her experiences seem to mirror mine. Childhood cancer survivor, never ever assumed that pregnancy was something that she could experience, until the concept and practice of egg donation matured and became a viable option. After a few scary moments in the beginning (in which I swear I cried as if it were happening to me), she and her mate are eagerly awaiting the arrival of their baby girl. I can only hope that our paths continue to parallel (minus the scary moments in the beginning).

Spring Forward. Fall Back.

As I was sleeping late this lovely Sunday morning, hubby jumps on the bed and says, "I have good news: a.) I love you. [awwwwww] and b.) today is daylight savings time and you actually aren't sleeping in at all. It's only 8 am! Enjoy."

And with that, I curled up a little tighter, smiled a little wider and enjoyed a few more minutes of sleep.

But then I started thinking of all the things I could do with a whole extra hour in my day (like, catch up on all of your blogs and comments that were neglected last week) so I got up and started doing them.

And then I started thinking, hey, this is great, as if the wait until December isn't long enough, I've just been given one MORE hour delay to begin the next egg donor cycle.


And then I got a little sad.

But I know that mid-December will be here before I know it. I know. For anyone who's counting, there are probably about 45 more days until we try, try again.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

Happy National Infertility Awareness Week

Anybody having a party?

[That was a joke.]

What's no joke is the fact that according to Resolve: The National Infertility Association, there is a 1 in 8 chance you either know someone with infertility or you are experiencing the challenges of infertility yourself.

Wowsers. I encourage you to visit the Resolve website for ways to "celebrate" November 4-10. I'm starting a day early.