Today is Day One. While there's no surprise that the "natural method" once again yielded no results, the surprise lies in the fact that our progress has stalled. Sigh...
The plan was to call the Doctor's office tomorrow, have a preliminary ultrasound, and start the shot treatments. However, recently Ryan has been struggling in his police training. While he's determined not to quit, his career is feeling less than stable to me at the moment. Although I have the money saved up for the first round of shots, I think it would be irresponsible to aggressively pursue getting pregnant when I am feeling so unsure about the status of our future finances. When the day finally comes that I do get pregnant, I want to feel joy and gratitude, not stress and worry that I will not be able to give my baby everything she needs.
Even though I am incredibly disappointed, I feel comfortable with this decision. I feel proud that I am making the responsible choice and not the selfish one that I wish I could make. Good mothers put their children's interest before their own. I guess it's never too early to start.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
Post-Op Appointment & Blood Work
On Monday, I had my post-op appointment with Dr. Synn. As expected, the surgery did not find anything that would be affecting my fertility.
I got to see pictures of my insides. That was pretty cool. The only item that was out of the ordinary was a string of scar tissue behind my uterus. This was snipped off and removed.
Other than that, there was absolutely nothing the Doctor was interested in. So, he ran dye through my tubes (both were clear, the right one was a tad slow), scraped out my uterus, and sewed me back up!
So, everything inside me is "Frustratingly Perfect". Pretty much sums up my entire infertile existence! Nothing wrong... everything's textbook... no pregnancy. I guess when they say "unexplained" infertility, they really have no explanation.
Speaking of which, we re-ran certain tests of my Cycle Day 3 blood work. My 2004 numbers in comparison with 2007:
TSH (Thyroid Stimulating Hormone: Mid-range normal in most labs is about 1.7)
2004: 1.59
2007: N/A
FSH (Follicle Stimulating Hormone: FSH is often used as a gauge of ovarian reserve. In general, under 6 is excellent, 6-9 is good, 9-10 fair, 10-13 diminished reserve, 13+ very hard to stimulate.)
2004: 5.0
2007: 4.3
LH (Luteinizing Hormone: A normal LH level is similar to FSH)
2004: 3.7
2007: 2.6
Prolactin (Normal is < 24. Increased prolactin levels can interfere with ovulation.)
2004: 6
2007: N/A
Estradiol (Normal is 25 - 75. Levels on the lower end tend to be better for stimulating.)
2004: 51
2007: 65
All of my numbers are within the normal range. The weird thing is the tests show I have more, better quality eggs now than 3 years ago. Hmmm...
The update is as follows, we went ahead and tried to conceive this month using the "old school" method (my trusty ovulation monitor and good ol' fashioned baby-dancing). The Doc says there's less than 1% chance of conceiving this way, but who cares?! It was worth a shot.
Once cycle Day 1 of my next cycle hits (which it inevitably will, I'm sure), I will go in for an ultrasound to check that everything is good to go. Then I order my shots and that's when the fun begins!
I got to see pictures of my insides. That was pretty cool. The only item that was out of the ordinary was a string of scar tissue behind my uterus. This was snipped off and removed.
Other than that, there was absolutely nothing the Doctor was interested in. So, he ran dye through my tubes (both were clear, the right one was a tad slow), scraped out my uterus, and sewed me back up!
So, everything inside me is "Frustratingly Perfect". Pretty much sums up my entire infertile existence! Nothing wrong... everything's textbook... no pregnancy. I guess when they say "unexplained" infertility, they really have no explanation.
Speaking of which, we re-ran certain tests of my Cycle Day 3 blood work. My 2004 numbers in comparison with 2007:
TSH (Thyroid Stimulating Hormone: Mid-range normal in most labs is about 1.7)
2004: 1.59
2007: N/A
FSH (Follicle Stimulating Hormone: FSH is often used as a gauge of ovarian reserve. In general, under 6 is excellent, 6-9 is good, 9-10 fair, 10-13 diminished reserve, 13+ very hard to stimulate.)
2004: 5.0
2007: 4.3
LH (Luteinizing Hormone: A normal LH level is similar to FSH)
2004: 3.7
2007: 2.6
Prolactin (Normal is < 24. Increased prolactin levels can interfere with ovulation.)
2004: 6
2007: N/A
Estradiol (Normal is 25 - 75. Levels on the lower end tend to be better for stimulating.)
2004: 51
2007: 65
All of my numbers are within the normal range. The weird thing is the tests show I have more, better quality eggs now than 3 years ago. Hmmm...
The update is as follows, we went ahead and tried to conceive this month using the "old school" method (my trusty ovulation monitor and good ol' fashioned baby-dancing). The Doc says there's less than 1% chance of conceiving this way, but who cares?! It was worth a shot.
Once cycle Day 1 of my next cycle hits (which it inevitably will, I'm sure), I will go in for an ultrasound to check that everything is good to go. Then I order my shots and that's when the fun begins!
Friday, June 29, 2007
Infertility...in a song
This was passed along to me by a friend who shares my same struggle. It’s a glimpse inside the world of infertility...
Anyone who has lived inside that world will relate to the words of this song (and may want to grab a kleenex before watching the video - I learned that the hard way).
Anyone who has lived inside that world will relate to the words of this song (and may want to grab a kleenex before watching the video - I learned that the hard way).
Friday, June 15, 2007
Ouch! The Surgery.
Preparing for surgery: What an adventure this was. From IV holes in my hands to the “support hose” on my legs, all the way down to the air compressed booties on my feet, this was certainly something new. I felt like some kind of astronaut with all of my “gear”. And, of course, Ryan was by my side taking pictures of the whole experience on his cell phone. Gotta love a comedian...
The lady bruised both hands trying to get the IV in, but she
the other side of the OR...
The lady bruised both hands trying to get the IV in, but she called me "petite" so I let it slide.
and I was ready to go!
Soon it was time to wheel me into the OR. As we turned the corner, I saw a large dry-erase board to my right. Just like in Gray’s Anatomy, names were written under each room. I looked for my name frantically but before I could find it, I was whisked away in no time and into OR Room 2.
In the OR: I was asked to move myself from the gurney over to the operating table. Not exactly the easiest thing to do, but I managed to do it with whatever grace and dignity I had left (Although I’m pretty sure the anesthesiologist got a show in the process). Above me hung two lights the size of pizza pans. The room seemed empty and sterile. Then I was given some sort-of drug that made me feel loopy, which scared me. So, of course, I cried. Not the weepy, sobbing kind-of cry but a sad, pitiful cry – no sound, tears only. My right arm was stretched to the side with the IV and my left arm had the blood pressure cuff, which meant the nurse had to wipe my tears. How humiliating.
It only took a minute and I got myself together. Dr. Synn was fashionably late (what’s new) so I tried to make small talk with the nurses through my oxygen mask. Soon I heard that the Doctor had arrived. Next thing I knew, a cold feeling ran up through my right arm and I felt like I was slipping away. I actually said “thank you” to the anesthesiologist and waved goodbye to the nurses with my free hand. I am such a dork.
After the surgery: Now, I had told Ryan that I dreaded this part of the day. I told him how awful I would feel when waking up from surgery. I told him I would be tired, but uncomfortable, cold and nauseous. He said that it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought it would be. He said it would be like waking up from a long nap. I’ll let you guess who was right…
As soon as I could open my eyes, I began asking whatever nurse was beside me, “Did I have endometriosis?” over and over. The problem was that my mouth hadn’t woken up yet so it sounded more like “Diidihaveendometriosis?? DIIDIHAVEENDOMETRIOSIS???” Needless to say, it took about 5 minutes for her to figure out what I was saying.
She looked at my chart and told me, no. There was no mention of endometriosis. I was crushed and barely listened to the rest of what she said while I cried silently for about a half an hour. Meanwhile, she tried to convince me that it was a good thing, that I didn’t want endometriosis, that this means I’m healthy. All I could think was I did this for nothing.
That’s when the nausea set in. I’ll spare you the details as you can probably imagine what it feels like to throw-up repeatedly for hours on a completely empty stomach that has just been cut into and patched back together. They normally expect you to be in the recovery room for about an hour and I was there almost four. Finally, I made it home and, you know what? I think I made it through pretty well. I was walking on my own that same night!
Today’s Thoughts: Now, with a clearer mind, I am able to comprehend what the nurse was trying to tell me in the recovery room on Wednesday. Although, my chart did not say “endometriosis”, what it did say was that the Doctor removed scar tissue, lesions, and possibly fibroids. He also scraped my uterus. Any one of these things can affect fertility. Basically I am all “cleaned out and ready for a baby”, as the nurse said. So this was a good decision. It wasn’t that I did this for nothing. Good things can come from it. I have grown fond of my black and blue stomach and my old lady walk. Battle wounds happen when fighting infertility. On July 9th, I will meet with the Doctor and will get the real story, complete with pictures and all. Then we will see what comes next…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Turns out, the nurse was overzealous in her analysis of the surgery results. She was probably just trying to stop my crying. For the real results of the surgery, see Post-Op Appointment .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I just have to say I am so grateful to everyone who has been such a support to me during this last week. Ryan was by my side the whole day; holding my hand, giving me popsicles and, most importantly, pretending not to be embarrassed as I threw-up for what seemed like the millionth time, this time right in front of the hospital. My mom spent Thursday cooking enough meals to last all week and stocking my fridge until I could hardly get the door closed. My dad called to check-up on me, leaving a voicemail message in a silly accent making me laugh. And many friends and family sent me emails and voicemails of love and encouragement. Thank you.
In the OR: I was asked to move myself from the gurney over to the operating table. Not exactly the easiest thing to do, but I managed to do it with whatever grace and dignity I had left (Although I’m pretty sure the anesthesiologist got a show in the process). Above me hung two lights the size of pizza pans. The room seemed empty and sterile. Then I was given some sort-of drug that made me feel loopy, which scared me. So, of course, I cried. Not the weepy, sobbing kind-of cry but a sad, pitiful cry – no sound, tears only. My right arm was stretched to the side with the IV and my left arm had the blood pressure cuff, which meant the nurse had to wipe my tears. How humiliating.
It only took a minute and I got myself together. Dr. Synn was fashionably late (what’s new) so I tried to make small talk with the nurses through my oxygen mask. Soon I heard that the Doctor had arrived. Next thing I knew, a cold feeling ran up through my right arm and I felt like I was slipping away. I actually said “thank you” to the anesthesiologist and waved goodbye to the nurses with my free hand. I am such a dork.
After the surgery: Now, I had told Ryan that I dreaded this part of the day. I told him how awful I would feel when waking up from surgery. I told him I would be tired, but uncomfortable, cold and nauseous. He said that it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought it would be. He said it would be like waking up from a long nap. I’ll let you guess who was right…
As soon as I could open my eyes, I began asking whatever nurse was beside me, “Did I have endometriosis?” over and over. The problem was that my mouth hadn’t woken up yet so it sounded more like “Diidihaveendometriosis?? DIIDIHAVEENDOMETRIOSIS???” Needless to say, it took about 5 minutes for her to figure out what I was saying.
She looked at my chart and told me, no. There was no mention of endometriosis. I was crushed and barely listened to the rest of what she said while I cried silently for about a half an hour. Meanwhile, she tried to convince me that it was a good thing, that I didn’t want endometriosis, that this means I’m healthy. All I could think was I did this for nothing.
That’s when the nausea set in. I’ll spare you the details as you can probably imagine what it feels like to throw-up repeatedly for hours on a completely empty stomach that has just been cut into and patched back together. They normally expect you to be in the recovery room for about an hour and I was there almost four. Finally, I made it home and, you know what? I think I made it through pretty well. I was walking on my own that same night!
Today’s Thoughts: Now, with a clearer mind, I am able to comprehend what the nurse was trying to tell me in the recovery room on Wednesday. Although, my chart did not say “endometriosis”, what it did say was that the Doctor removed scar tissue, lesions, and possibly fibroids. He also scraped my uterus. Any one of these things can affect fertility. Basically I am all “cleaned out and ready for a baby”, as the nurse said. So this was a good decision. It wasn’t that I did this for nothing. Good things can come from it. I have grown fond of my black and blue stomach and my old lady walk. Battle wounds happen when fighting infertility. On July 9th, I will meet with the Doctor and will get the real story, complete with pictures and all. Then we will see what comes next…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Turns out, the nurse was overzealous in her analysis of the surgery results. She was probably just trying to stop my crying. For the real results of the surgery, see Post-Op Appointment .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I just have to say I am so grateful to everyone who has been such a support to me during this last week. Ryan was by my side the whole day; holding my hand, giving me popsicles and, most importantly, pretending not to be embarrassed as I threw-up for what seemed like the millionth time, this time right in front of the hospital. My mom spent Thursday cooking enough meals to last all week and stocking my fridge until I could hardly get the door closed. My dad called to check-up on me, leaving a voicemail message in a silly accent making me laugh. And many friends and family sent me emails and voicemails of love and encouragement. Thank you.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Ain't I Lucky!
Just wanted to share:
Several weeks ago, I mentioned to my boss that I would be having surgery for endometriosis as it may be a possible cause of my infertility. I told him that I would let him know when I had a date and that I would need about a week off work.
Several days ago, he came into my office with information from the internet on endometriosis. He had written down the name of the disease and researched it to learn more about it. He found information about certain foods on a website just for endometriosis and printed out some items to give me.
I was just so stunned that he took the time to research something that was impacting my life. While many bosses would have been thinking about the “time off” I was requesting, my boss was thinking about me. Ain’t I lucky!
On a side note: I have a few dates lined up.
My pre-op appointment will be Monday, June 11th at 8:30am.
My surgery will be Wednesday, June 13th at 12:30p.m.
My post-op appointment will be Monday, July 9th at 11:15am.
Several weeks ago, I mentioned to my boss that I would be having surgery for endometriosis as it may be a possible cause of my infertility. I told him that I would let him know when I had a date and that I would need about a week off work.
Several days ago, he came into my office with information from the internet on endometriosis. He had written down the name of the disease and researched it to learn more about it. He found information about certain foods on a website just for endometriosis and printed out some items to give me.
I was just so stunned that he took the time to research something that was impacting my life. While many bosses would have been thinking about the “time off” I was requesting, my boss was thinking about me. Ain’t I lucky!
On a side note: I have a few dates lined up.
My pre-op appointment will be Monday, June 11th at 8:30am.
My surgery will be Wednesday, June 13th at 12:30p.m.
My post-op appointment will be Monday, July 9th at 11:15am.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Womanhood
What makes someone a woman? Is it her physical attributes? It is an innate caring and nurturing that you are born with? Or is it her ability to conceive and carry a child, thus proving her evolutionary purpose? If she is unable, is she not a woman?
I know I must not be the only person with infertility, wondering if they were really a woman. My body is not doing what it was designed to do. It is akin to a man back in the caveman days whose family is starving because he is unable to catch or gather food.
We are lucky that we live in a country in which I can do many things. I can educate myself, I can help clients make prudent financial decisions, I can commit to a marriage, I can teach children in Sunday School, I can be a good daughter, sister, friend, member of society. But, I can not be a mother. Without some sort-of medical or legal intervention, I can not have a child. It is hard not to feel like a failure under that circumstance.
Logically, I know that simply bearing a child does not make me a woman any more than wearing a loincloth and beating his chest would make Ryan a man. However, in those dark moments, when reason and common sense give way to bitterness and confusion, these are the feelings that can take residence inside a broken heart.
I know I must not be the only person with infertility, wondering if they were really a woman. My body is not doing what it was designed to do. It is akin to a man back in the caveman days whose family is starving because he is unable to catch or gather food.
We are lucky that we live in a country in which I can do many things. I can educate myself, I can help clients make prudent financial decisions, I can commit to a marriage, I can teach children in Sunday School, I can be a good daughter, sister, friend, member of society. But, I can not be a mother. Without some sort-of medical or legal intervention, I can not have a child. It is hard not to feel like a failure under that circumstance.
Logically, I know that simply bearing a child does not make me a woman any more than wearing a loincloth and beating his chest would make Ryan a man. However, in those dark moments, when reason and common sense give way to bitterness and confusion, these are the feelings that can take residence inside a broken heart.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Surgery Consultation
Yesterday, I had my surgery consultation with Dr. Synn. I was glad I didn't have to pay for the appointment because he basically went over everything he already told me: what the surgery involves, the risks, etc. However, I was surprised to learn that, once the surgery is over, we will keep going with fertility treatments immediately. For some reason I was thinking that we would "try" naturally for a few months. Not so. And, if I have endometriosis, time is of the essence because it starts growing back immediately, so we have to get right back on the treatments which means about $1200/cycle starting immediately. Here I was thinking that the surgery would be the only treatment/expense for a while but it turns out I was wrong. Ryan and I will need to sit down and have a money talk. But, all in all, it went well. The girls at his office will call my insurance to verify they will cover the surgery and then the hospital will call me to schedule the surgery. I should hear from someone in about 8 days.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Where are MY Easter Eggs? (and a timeline)
On a Saturday morning a few weeks ago, amidst chocolate covered bunnies and carrot cake, it hit me. Had we been one of those people who conceived right away, there would be a three-year-old running around the backyard, looking for hidden eggs. Probably there would have also been a one-year-old tagging along behind.
Now before I scold myself for buying tickets to my own pity party, I must remember that it is okay to briefly slip into the dark side of “what ifs” and “if onlys”. It’s just important not to get stuck there.
So, I was indulging myself in this dangerous game of replaying the past, when I lost it a little. And by a little, I mean a lot. I was okay until I described my feelings to Ryan and forgot that sometimes my mouth is directly connected to my tear ducts.
You know the feeling when the normal, everyday guy you’re married to says something so sincere and comforting, that for a minute you almost don’t recognize him? Not to say that Ryan isn’t great all the time, but to feel that heard and that understood changed the entire course of the conversation. All I felt coming from him was concern and compassion. No sympathy, no belittlement, not even exasperation that (yet again) we were rehashing this situation. Just empathy.
Ryan suggested that if I wasn’t pregnant by the time he finished his field training (about 6 months), we start looking into adopting.
Like most men, Ryan would love to have a child that is his biologically. As his wife, I want nothing more than to give that to him. However, we can not keep this up forever. Barring something working out for us in the meantime, in about a year we will be facing the stage in which in-vitro fertilization would be our last option. While many couples find in-vitro to be a positive choice for them and have been rewarded with tiny miracles of their very own, it seems at this point neither Ryan nor I are considering taking that step. The cost is ~$10,000 and, as with all fertility treatments, the results are not guaranteed.
For me personally, I feel that biology fades while family is forever. As an adopted child myself, I can see many positive aspects in adoption. I have had friends that have adopted and I can not picture these families without these children.
I attended an adoption meeting recently (I was asked to speak about my experience as an adopted person). I listened to adoptive and birth parents speak about the role of adoption in their lives. I’d dare say this experience is not better or worse than having your own biological child, just different.
So, what would be different? I guess instead of telling my child about waiting for her due date, I would be telling her about waiting for adoption paperwork to be approved. Instead of stories about how my water broke in the grocery store and it took 15 hours of labor to get her here, I would be telling her how I got the phone call she was on the way and it took 15 hours to drive to the hospital where she was born. Instead of hearing about Daddy cutting the umbilical cord, it would be Daddy taking pictures through the nursery windows and finding a computer to email them home to friends and family. Instead of the first car ride as we drove home from the hospital, maybe it would be the first ride home on an airplane. Regardless, she would be ours and we would be hers and there would be no doubt in the world how much we wanted her. Not better or worse, just different.
And, heaven forbid, someday she might actually want to meet her birth mother??? Well, I’m sure there are worse things in this world than watching your child connect with someone as selfless as that.
Sure, adoption is riddled with unknowns, positives and negatives, a true roller coaster of emotions. But, isn’t infertility? Even further, isn’t parenting in general? I wouldn’t know…
When Ryan was suggesting we start the adoption process on that Saturday morning, he was jumping ahead just a bit. For now, I am still on the infertility carousel. I have my surgery consultation on May 23rd. From there, I will schedule the laparoscopy and hysteroscopy. Should this not result in pregnancy, I am willing to do the hormone shots in combination with IUIs. This is expensive (~$1000-$1500/month) so we will probably rotate, one month on and one month off for a total of 6 rounds. Then I will know that I gave it my all. I can grieve the fact that I can never give Ryan a child of his own (genetically) and I can be comfortable turning to adoption. That’s the timeline at this point. What happens from here on out is anyone’s guess.
Now before I scold myself for buying tickets to my own pity party, I must remember that it is okay to briefly slip into the dark side of “what ifs” and “if onlys”. It’s just important not to get stuck there.
So, I was indulging myself in this dangerous game of replaying the past, when I lost it a little. And by a little, I mean a lot. I was okay until I described my feelings to Ryan and forgot that sometimes my mouth is directly connected to my tear ducts.
You know the feeling when the normal, everyday guy you’re married to says something so sincere and comforting, that for a minute you almost don’t recognize him? Not to say that Ryan isn’t great all the time, but to feel that heard and that understood changed the entire course of the conversation. All I felt coming from him was concern and compassion. No sympathy, no belittlement, not even exasperation that (yet again) we were rehashing this situation. Just empathy.
Ryan suggested that if I wasn’t pregnant by the time he finished his field training (about 6 months), we start looking into adopting.
Like most men, Ryan would love to have a child that is his biologically. As his wife, I want nothing more than to give that to him. However, we can not keep this up forever. Barring something working out for us in the meantime, in about a year we will be facing the stage in which in-vitro fertilization would be our last option. While many couples find in-vitro to be a positive choice for them and have been rewarded with tiny miracles of their very own, it seems at this point neither Ryan nor I are considering taking that step. The cost is ~$10,000 and, as with all fertility treatments, the results are not guaranteed.
For me personally, I feel that biology fades while family is forever. As an adopted child myself, I can see many positive aspects in adoption. I have had friends that have adopted and I can not picture these families without these children.
I attended an adoption meeting recently (I was asked to speak about my experience as an adopted person). I listened to adoptive and birth parents speak about the role of adoption in their lives. I’d dare say this experience is not better or worse than having your own biological child, just different.
So, what would be different? I guess instead of telling my child about waiting for her due date, I would be telling her about waiting for adoption paperwork to be approved. Instead of stories about how my water broke in the grocery store and it took 15 hours of labor to get her here, I would be telling her how I got the phone call she was on the way and it took 15 hours to drive to the hospital where she was born. Instead of hearing about Daddy cutting the umbilical cord, it would be Daddy taking pictures through the nursery windows and finding a computer to email them home to friends and family. Instead of the first car ride as we drove home from the hospital, maybe it would be the first ride home on an airplane. Regardless, she would be ours and we would be hers and there would be no doubt in the world how much we wanted her. Not better or worse, just different.
And, heaven forbid, someday she might actually want to meet her birth mother??? Well, I’m sure there are worse things in this world than watching your child connect with someone as selfless as that.
Sure, adoption is riddled with unknowns, positives and negatives, a true roller coaster of emotions. But, isn’t infertility? Even further, isn’t parenting in general? I wouldn’t know…
When Ryan was suggesting we start the adoption process on that Saturday morning, he was jumping ahead just a bit. For now, I am still on the infertility carousel. I have my surgery consultation on May 23rd. From there, I will schedule the laparoscopy and hysteroscopy. Should this not result in pregnancy, I am willing to do the hormone shots in combination with IUIs. This is expensive (~$1000-$1500/month) so we will probably rotate, one month on and one month off for a total of 6 rounds. Then I will know that I gave it my all. I can grieve the fact that I can never give Ryan a child of his own (genetically) and I can be comfortable turning to adoption. That’s the timeline at this point. What happens from here on out is anyone’s guess.
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