I have a friend . . . or maybe had a friend. I don't know how I would classify our relationship now. She got pregnant randomly with a guy who she was on again off again with. The news of the baby changed everything. They were all of a sudden back together, getting married, having a baby and living the happy perfect little life me and the Mister had been yearning for for years. Years.
I know they were in shock with the news of their new little person. I get that. But there were talks of abortion. Jokes of putting it up for adoption. Complaints of how hard life was now that she was pregnant - from both parties. It sucked. It hurt. Here were people who were our very, very best couple friends and every single time we hung out with them, there was complaining and woe is me'ing.
They knew our situation. I even put myself out there and told her EVERYTHING. I said how hard it was for me to hear them talk about how this wasn't what they wanted. But it didn't get better. Rather than being excited to hang out with our friends, I began to dread it. I would spend the entire drive home from their place in tears. It hurt to hear all of this again and again. It hurt even after the baby was born and majority of the conversation was filled with the normal new parent complaints - but I would have given anything to trade spots with them. It really, really hurt. It hurt to hear, but I think it hurt because it was coming from people who were supposed to be our best friends. But they never stopped to think about what they were saying and how it was impacting both me and the Mister. Because let's be very clear, I was not the only one impacted by the things that were said.
I put up walls. The Mister doesn't. It's a trait of his I admire more than anything, a trait I pray our little koala inherits from it's papa. Putting up walls, it's what I do. I avoid situations where I have to be around them. And as a result, we don't have a relationship anymore. The Mister still hangs out with them from time to time. But I don't.
My actions have probably burned that bridge. And it sucks. I am not proud of it I take responsibility for it. I pay for it when I am uninvited to their house and am left off of invitations. I should have done things differently. I wish I was stronger. I wish I had thicker skin. I wish I could let what people say just roll off my back rather than internalizing it. I wish I didn't have such high standards for others. I wish I was able to put my walls back down. I wish I didn't expect people to know what to say and what not to say to people struggling with infertility. They don't and why would they? Infertility isn't something that is openly discussed. Ever.
Today I was stumbling around Pinterest, taking it easy after IUI Round Two and I found this blog entry. It takes everything I want people to know and puts it into words in a way that I can't. Maybe if I had found this earlier and wasn't so quick to put up my walls this would have helped and I still would have my friend.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
IUI . . . Take 2
Obviously I have a bit of updating to do. We just had our second round of IUI.
Round One . . . Clomid. It wasn't as bad as I had read. It wasn't as bad as I had heard. It was ok and my ovaries LOVED it. Four follicles on the right and on the left, well, who knows. Lefty has a new name, Waldo. He likes to disappear. He moves away from the fallopian tube and is super difficult to find. We aren't even sure he is close enough to the fallopian tube for the egg to make it where it needs to go. So he is Waldo. Waldo the Ovary. He's a special one. :-)
The Mister was super worried about multiples . . . really, really worried. But he doesn't have to worry about that now. Round one wasn't the one for us.
So today was Round Two. All around this round was MUCH better. Not as many blood draws, only one ultrasound and we knew what we were doing this time. The Mister gave me my shot with confidence, he was able to give his sample the day of the procedure so it didn't have to be frozen (Round one he had a HUGE work obligation, so we had to freeze his little guys which is always a little risky, but they were fine). Frozen is fine, but fresh is always better! :-) And my favorite nurse Jessie was there today. She wasn't in the actual procedure, there were three other people for that, but she got me all checked in and ready to go. I love her. I don't know why, but she is so pleasant to be around, super optimistic and straightforward. I was super excited to see her this morning!
The actually IUI procedure isn't painful at all. I felt much more relaxed going in to the procedure this morning. My bladder was full (Round One I over extended my bladder and was in a TON of pain for the rest of the day so I learned a very valuable lesson!) but not too full.
This time there was only one follicle in the right ovary. And we "think" Waldo had one as well. No multiples this time, just one little bitty possibility which is perfect. More than perfect.
Now starts the waiting game. 12 days. And unlike Round One, I only have one test. I may have bought in bulk last time. Ha. Just one test this time on day 12.
Fingers crossed!!!
Round One . . . Clomid. It wasn't as bad as I had read. It wasn't as bad as I had heard. It was ok and my ovaries LOVED it. Four follicles on the right and on the left, well, who knows. Lefty has a new name, Waldo. He likes to disappear. He moves away from the fallopian tube and is super difficult to find. We aren't even sure he is close enough to the fallopian tube for the egg to make it where it needs to go. So he is Waldo. Waldo the Ovary. He's a special one. :-)
The Mister was super worried about multiples . . . really, really worried. But he doesn't have to worry about that now. Round one wasn't the one for us.
So today was Round Two. All around this round was MUCH better. Not as many blood draws, only one ultrasound and we knew what we were doing this time. The Mister gave me my shot with confidence, he was able to give his sample the day of the procedure so it didn't have to be frozen (Round one he had a HUGE work obligation, so we had to freeze his little guys which is always a little risky, but they were fine). Frozen is fine, but fresh is always better! :-) And my favorite nurse Jessie was there today. She wasn't in the actual procedure, there were three other people for that, but she got me all checked in and ready to go. I love her. I don't know why, but she is so pleasant to be around, super optimistic and straightforward. I was super excited to see her this morning!
The actually IUI procedure isn't painful at all. I felt much more relaxed going in to the procedure this morning. My bladder was full (Round One I over extended my bladder and was in a TON of pain for the rest of the day so I learned a very valuable lesson!) but not too full.
This time there was only one follicle in the right ovary. And we "think" Waldo had one as well. No multiples this time, just one little bitty possibility which is perfect. More than perfect.
Now starts the waiting game. 12 days. And unlike Round One, I only have one test. I may have bought in bulk last time. Ha. Just one test this time on day 12.
Fingers crossed!!!
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Empowered
Empowered.
That is not what comes to mind when one thinks about their infertility journey.
What comes to mind is quite the opposite, really.
It's almost like one should be ashamed of their struggles. I mean come on. This is one of the most natural processes in the entire world. We are biologically driven to procreate. When you get that positive test you want to share it with the world. When you see nothing but negative tests month after month, you are supposed to hide it, pretend like it doesn't hurt and tell yourself, "maybe next month . . ."
But then I saw this. And it struck a cord. Pure, raw honesty . . . and I LOVED it. After reading it I felt empowered for perhaps the first time in three years. I don't have to hide. And in fact, I am not hiding anymore.
I had George and Frank removed about a month ago (well, kinda . . . more on that very soon!!) and for some reason I posted to Facebook about heading home from the hospital and in that post, I was tagged at the hospital. I didn't tell but a handful of people that I was going in to deal with George and Frank, so the response to me posting a vague status update from the hospital was shocking to some. But the next morning, I stumbled upon Bobbie's article, and was empowered to be honest. I put it out there. I put it out there that I was in for a fertility related procedure that would hopefully help us make more positive progression on our baby mission. I actually dubbed this whole thing "The Great Hritsko Baby Challenge."
I put it out there.
And I felt relieved.
And I don't feel like I have to hide anymore.
I feel empowered.
#nomorewhispers
That is not what comes to mind when one thinks about their infertility journey.
What comes to mind is quite the opposite, really.
It's almost like one should be ashamed of their struggles. I mean come on. This is one of the most natural processes in the entire world. We are biologically driven to procreate. When you get that positive test you want to share it with the world. When you see nothing but negative tests month after month, you are supposed to hide it, pretend like it doesn't hurt and tell yourself, "maybe next month . . ."
But then I saw this. And it struck a cord. Pure, raw honesty . . . and I LOVED it. After reading it I felt empowered for perhaps the first time in three years. I don't have to hide. And in fact, I am not hiding anymore.
I had George and Frank removed about a month ago (well, kinda . . . more on that very soon!!) and for some reason I posted to Facebook about heading home from the hospital and in that post, I was tagged at the hospital. I didn't tell but a handful of people that I was going in to deal with George and Frank, so the response to me posting a vague status update from the hospital was shocking to some. But the next morning, I stumbled upon Bobbie's article, and was empowered to be honest. I put it out there. I put it out there that I was in for a fertility related procedure that would hopefully help us make more positive progression on our baby mission. I actually dubbed this whole thing "The Great Hritsko Baby Challenge."
I put it out there.
And I felt relieved.
And I don't feel like I have to hide anymore.
I feel empowered.
#nomorewhispers
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Fertility Clinic A
I gave us one full year. 12 months of trying before I went to my OB/GYN, (who is AMAZING!!! LOVE her!!) Dr. B.
I had read the blogs . . . 12 months and no baby? You need help. I wanted help.
The Mister wasn't 100% bought into the idea that we needed help yet, but I was on a Koala mission.
We needed help.
Dr. B refered me to Fertility Clinic A. A HUGE organization with at least four offices in the area. Huge. I went, met with the doctor who specialized in PCOS. She knows her stuff. Everyone in that place knows their stuff. They are good. They make babies. They make lots of babies. They will help you make a baby . . . if you fit in their neat little box.
I didn't fit in their neat little box.
After a year with them, it wasn't working. We were nowhere closer to a Koala. And there wasn't anything else they were wielding to help us with.
It was time to move on.
Thanks to Dr. B, we found Fertility Clinic B . . . and were once again one day closer to a Koala adventure.
I had read the blogs . . . 12 months and no baby? You need help. I wanted help.
The Mister wasn't 100% bought into the idea that we needed help yet, but I was on a Koala mission.
We needed help.
Dr. B refered me to Fertility Clinic A. A HUGE organization with at least four offices in the area. Huge. I went, met with the doctor who specialized in PCOS. She knows her stuff. Everyone in that place knows their stuff. They are good. They make babies. They make lots of babies. They will help you make a baby . . . if you fit in their neat little box.
I didn't fit in their neat little box.
After a year with them, it wasn't working. We were nowhere closer to a Koala. And there wasn't anything else they were wielding to help us with.
It was time to move on.
Thanks to Dr. B, we found Fertility Clinic B . . . and were once again one day closer to a Koala adventure.
Waiting Game
Waiting. Waiting for the call that will schedule the next step in this adventure.
Two days ago I had an appointment with the chief OB/GYN at a world renowned local hospital, Dr. H. He was nice. Straight to the point and nice. The Mister liked him, so it was good. He did another ultrasound and compared his findings to those reported by Fertility Clinic A and Fertility Clinic B. (which reminds me, I should introduce you to Fertility Clinic A and Fertility Clinic B).
George has grown but a couple of centimeters in the past thirteen months. And he is sitting on top of my ovary (or maybe the fallopian tube and maybe he isn't even attached, we don't really know). Turns out, due to his size and his location, it is very possible he could torque my ovary which would result in LOTS of pain, emergency surgery and quite possibly losing the ovary all together. Not a good situation. The consensus is that he most definitely needs to come out. And the sooner, the better.
Then there is the fibroid. Let's call him Fibroid Frank. Frank has also grown. He is right up against my uterus. Dr. H was a little iffy as to whether or not Frank needed to be removed, but later, with a clearer ultrasound, it was suggested that he come out too. He is pushing on my uterus, which if we have to move to IVF, Frank can't be there. HOWEVER . . . removing Frank will mean 100% without a doubt, I will need a c-section. That was not in my plans. That was a devastating turn of events. Not the end of the world, but not what I wanted to hear.
So now I am waiting. Waiting to schedule the surgery that will bring us one step closer to the finish line.
Surgery is scary. I have never gone under for anything before. I have never been to the hospital for myself. This is a whole new ball game for me and I am scared. What if this surgery makes things worse? What if another cyst takes the place of George? What if, what if, what if? I could what if this forever . . .
Two days ago I had an appointment with the chief OB/GYN at a world renowned local hospital, Dr. H. He was nice. Straight to the point and nice. The Mister liked him, so it was good. He did another ultrasound and compared his findings to those reported by Fertility Clinic A and Fertility Clinic B. (which reminds me, I should introduce you to Fertility Clinic A and Fertility Clinic B).
George has grown but a couple of centimeters in the past thirteen months. And he is sitting on top of my ovary (or maybe the fallopian tube and maybe he isn't even attached, we don't really know). Turns out, due to his size and his location, it is very possible he could torque my ovary which would result in LOTS of pain, emergency surgery and quite possibly losing the ovary all together. Not a good situation. The consensus is that he most definitely needs to come out. And the sooner, the better.
Then there is the fibroid. Let's call him Fibroid Frank. Frank has also grown. He is right up against my uterus. Dr. H was a little iffy as to whether or not Frank needed to be removed, but later, with a clearer ultrasound, it was suggested that he come out too. He is pushing on my uterus, which if we have to move to IVF, Frank can't be there. HOWEVER . . . removing Frank will mean 100% without a doubt, I will need a c-section. That was not in my plans. That was a devastating turn of events. Not the end of the world, but not what I wanted to hear.
So now I am waiting. Waiting to schedule the surgery that will bring us one step closer to the finish line.
Surgery is scary. I have never gone under for anything before. I have never been to the hospital for myself. This is a whole new ball game for me and I am scared. What if this surgery makes things worse? What if another cyst takes the place of George? What if, what if, what if? I could what if this forever . . .
Monday, May 12, 2014
Take Two
 |
| A glimpse into the unknown |
That one, huge, ovary hiding cyst killed the plans for the Clomid Challenge Test and our first round of IUI. Not cool, cyst. Not cool at all.
The plan was to come back in a month, for another day 3 ultrasound. Thanks to an amazing vacation, two months passed and it was back to the clinic with fingers crossed. Fingers crossed that that one, huge, ovary hiding cyst was gone. Or at least had shrunk.
Apparently that one, huge, ovary hiding cyst really likes living on my ovary. So much so it actually GREW. Seriously. It grew. It grew several centimeters. It is sticking around and I am beginning to think I should name it. George, maybe?
Not only is George taking up residence, but he has a roommate. I also have a fibroid, behind my uterus. Normally, fibroids don't cause much of an issue, especially when they are not IN the uterus. But because my body is an over achiever in growing things it shouldn't grow . . . my fibroid that is behind my uterus, is so large, that it is pushing into the uterine cavity. Awesome. This isn't a huge problem, but it is a concern. It will be more of a concern once George vacates and we begin IUI. It could be difficult to maneuver around.
Not too much had changed with the right ovary. It's still hanging out, all alone (thank goodness!!!). The antral follicle count was 14, which is still good.
Now for the options. We can wait and see if George goes away. My gut is that he isn't going anywhere. It's been two months and he has grown. Waiting isn't my first choice. The next choice is to do a needle aspiration, take all of the fluid out of George and see what he does. I would have to go under for this procedure which does not sound like fun. And then the third option, is to surgically remove the cyst and if they are already going to go in and remove George, then they would remove the fibroid as well. I don't really like any of those options.
Next week we are going to meet with a surgeon and get a second opinion.
What I would really like is a crystal ball. A crystal ball that just shows me the path to take. The path that will lead to a koala
Sunday, May 11, 2014
38
38 . . . that is the number of times I have gotten my hopes up. The number of times I have let myself wonder what if. The number of times my heart has broken when realizing that it isn't my time yet. But it's one less heart break I am going to experience. It's one less disappointment. One day closer.
I never thought having a baby would be an easy journey for me. A gut instinct. A mother's intuition well before her time. And as fate would have it, it hasn't been an easy journey. Not even a slightly easy journey. It's a one step forward, three steps back sort of journey. But each day is still one day closer.
And honestly? It sucks. There is not other way to describe it.
Yesterday I found out two people in my life are pregnant (while were at the baptism for a third friend's child) which came the day after I was graced with the reminder that I wasn't going to get the best Mother's Day gift ever. Yeah. My reaction wasn't the best. I cried. I did. It was an involuntary reaction. It sucked.
I feel like this journey isn't something that is ok to talk about. I don't know what to say and if I don't know what to say, how can I ever expect anyone else to say the right thing. Is there a right thing to say? I don't know. It's a tough road to navigate. For everyone, whether you are in the trenches of infertility or on the sidelines, watching someone go through it. No one knows what to say or do.
I need a place to vent. To word vomit. To get it all out, so I don't have to hold on to it.
I want a record of what I have gone through. For me. A place where when I get discouraged, I can look back and see just how far I have gone. How I really am just one day closer to meeting that little person who is going to be the bee's knees and is going to rock my world and adore their Papa.
One day closer . . .
I never thought having a baby would be an easy journey for me. A gut instinct. A mother's intuition well before her time. And as fate would have it, it hasn't been an easy journey. Not even a slightly easy journey. It's a one step forward, three steps back sort of journey. But each day is still one day closer.
And honestly? It sucks. There is not other way to describe it.
Yesterday I found out two people in my life are pregnant (while were at the baptism for a third friend's child) which came the day after I was graced with the reminder that I wasn't going to get the best Mother's Day gift ever. Yeah. My reaction wasn't the best. I cried. I did. It was an involuntary reaction. It sucked.
I feel like this journey isn't something that is ok to talk about. I don't know what to say and if I don't know what to say, how can I ever expect anyone else to say the right thing. Is there a right thing to say? I don't know. It's a tough road to navigate. For everyone, whether you are in the trenches of infertility or on the sidelines, watching someone go through it. No one knows what to say or do.
I need a place to vent. To word vomit. To get it all out, so I don't have to hold on to it.
I want a record of what I have gone through. For me. A place where when I get discouraged, I can look back and see just how far I have gone. How I really am just one day closer to meeting that little person who is going to be the bee's knees and is going to rock my world and adore their Papa.
One day closer . . .
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