Feline Therapy

For years, I have wanted a cat. I always talked myself out of getting one, thinking I would soon be pregnant. For one, I am allergic to cats and besides that there are all kinds of issues with pregnancy and cats, dealing with the litter box and toxicity.

So as the years passed by, I put off a lot of things, thinking I would be pregnant soon and my life would change. Little by little, as I realized the possibility of pregnancy in the near future was fading away, I slowly began doing those things I had been waiting on, except for getting a cat.

One morning, three months ago, I woke up and decided this was the day. I called about an ad in the local paper about a litter of kittens and made plans to go pick one up. I stopped by PetsMart in Clovis to get some supplies. As I walked into the store, I noticed the cages on the side wall. In one cage was this 3 month old black kitten. I went up to the plastic window and put my hand on it. The kitten immediately began to bat at the window. I found an employee and they took me in the back. When they handed me the kitten, he looked up at me, placed his paws on my cheeks, and put his nose on my face. His name was "B.A." and I knew he was mine.

I got all the supplies needed, filled out the Madera SPCA paperwork, and drove him home. I called the gentleman who had placed the ad in the paper and told him I wouldn't be coming after all. I had already found our new "baby".

His name is Cosmo ("Cosmic Creepers") and he is a feisty and strong headed kitten with quite a personality. When I come home at night, he comes running. When I get up in the morning, he can't wait to play. He lets me hold him for as long as I want, even when I can tell he is tired of it. I used to think it was kind-of strange when people would talk about pets like family, but now I think I understand.

Three months ago, I rescued him from the shelter. But, since that time, I feel that in his own way he has rescued me too. When you have infertility, one of the most empty and lonely feelings is that you have no one to nurture, no one to care for. And that's all you desire in the world. I realize that Cosmo is just a cat, but it makes a difference to know that I am important to him and he depends on me. It hasn't lessened my desire for a child of my own, but it has softened the heartache a bit.

When it rains, it pours... and I can't find my umbrella.

Over the last few months, medical billing statements have arrived as a result of my recent surgery last June. Adding up the charges, it seemed I would end up paying about $400 for the surgery out-of-pocket. I was pretty satisfied, as the surgery was the first fertility "treatment" which my insurance would participate in paying.

Yesterday, I picked up my mail only to find a "love letter" from Clovis Community Hospital. Seems I will actually be paying about $2500 out-of-pocket for the surgery.

Now, I have been told by some people that "money is no object - we would pay whatever we needed to have a child". This is all very noble and good, but until you have been in my position, you have no idea what it is like when the only thing preventing you from reaching for your dream is money.

What started out as a desperate attempt to find out the reason I have not been able to conceive a child has now turned into the most expensive fertility "treatment" I have paid (am paying) for thus far.

Even though I would like to tell myself that the surgery was a mistake, I know that if it had turned out differently, I would have called it the best decision I could have made.

It's all a gamble. This is just the game we pay when we are lucky enough to not only be "infertile", but have health insurance that doesn't see that as a problem worth paying for. Along with the heartbreak of infertility, we get to be slapped in the face on a regular basis by the reality that all this costs money.

When will I be able to pursue agressive fertility treatments? Well, I refuse to miss out on parenthood over something as futile as money. This unexpected bump will not be a road block. It has slowed us down, but will not crush us. It will take some time, but Clovis Community Hospital will get their money. And then we'll move on from there...

Infertility: Year 4

I decided to document Year 4 with a slideshow. Think of it as this last year summed up into 3 minutes! After the first few slides, there is music, so make sure your speakers are on! :)

Graduation: I now have a Bachelor’s Degree in Reproductive Science!

FOUR years ago this month, I threw away my birth control pills for good. Why not? I was nine months from graduation at Long Beach State and I wanted nothing more than to receive my degree in psychology moments before I stepped into the world of motherhood.

It was all planned perfectly. I would have my degree, my sign to the world that I accomplished something great for myself, and then become a mother, my sign to myself that I hadn’t forgotten the true measure of my creation.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was embarking on another kind of education… a second Bachelor’s of sorts. Unlike my psychology degree, this course of study would test me physically, emotionally, and spiritually in a way public education never could.

There were many things to learn and skills to acquire. Some of my minor degrees have been:
Anatomy (I could map the human reproductive system blindfolded)
Pharmacology (expert on Clomid vs. Gonal-f)
Human relations (inventive answers to the unintentionally insensitive questions I’m asked)
Performing arts (acting like the aforementioned questions don’t bother me)
Accounting (creative ways to scrape together fertility treatment money)
Psychology (talking myself into functioning normally when all I want to do is climb in to bed, pull the covers over my head, and disappear)

I have also worked to improve my patience, optimism, hopefulness, and compassion. I haven’t always received an “A” in these subjects, but I continue to try.

It’s been a struggle. Sometimes I would be flooded with understanding and confidence and other times I would feel like a shell of a person, completely empty inside. One minute I would feel a great appreciation for my many blessings and the next minute, for the first time in my life, I would be angry at God.

So, I have my Bachelor’s Degree, now what? Well, my education is not over. The question is where will it lead me from here? Is it time to specialize in aggressive reproductive technologies? At which point do I cut my losses, switch majors, and study adoption? When do I give up the dream of wearing my own version of the cap and gown: cruising through the baby department rather than avoiding it, picking out nursery colors, fantasizing about holding little “Jack” or “Katelyn”?

My feelings are much different now than when I obtained my psychology degree. There is not as much pride or sense of accomplishment with this milestone. Mostly, it’s just sadness. Sadness for myself, sadness for time lost, just sadness. But, even so, it is a milestone in this journey we call life and as such, I feel it deserves acknowledgement, as painful as that may be.

Day One and We're Stalled...

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.

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!

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).

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...

See how happy I look? I have no idea what is waiting for me on

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.

I've got my cafeteria-lady hat and my astro-booties

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…

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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 .

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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.