Storm Clouds

Where to start.

Four years, six months and 27 days.

That is how long we tried.

There were shots.

Ultrasounds.

Tests.

Surgery.

Trying.

Lots of trying.

Trying the old fashioned way.

Trying on a schedule.

Trying without a schedule.

Trying with IUI.

Trying with every ounce of trying we had.

But there was Frank.

Fibroid Frank, who isn't really a fibroid, but a mass with a really fancy name that I can't remember right now.  And Frank made his happy little home behind my uterus, bumping right up next to it so that he can't be removed without damaging my uterus in such a way it too, would have to be removed.  And he has been there for  years.  He has lived and thrived and grown.  Oh, how he has grown. He has pushed my left ovary out of the way for ever - hence it's name: Waldo.  But there was always the right guy.  The go to right ovary guy.  He was our saving grace.  Always full of follicles, he was going to see us through to the end. But then Frank grew.  And he has managed to push the ever faithful right ovary off to the side where he can't be reached. 

And with no available ovaries, there are no eggs. 

No eggs mean no IVF.

 No eggs, no IVF, no baby.

Thanks, Frank.

So we are done.  

We have given it every ounce of energy, every penny, every hope, every dream, every positive thought we had.

We gave it all.

We got back up with each set back and fought on, pushing through the hoops.

But this isn't the road that we are meant to take in our path to being parents.  

I'll never know why.

But I can't fight it - we did that.

It sucks.

It hurts.

It's frustrating.

I am angry.

I feel like I failed.

I feel like I failed my husband. 

My heart broke in a way I have never before experienced when I had to tell him that we were done.  

When I had to tell him I couldn't give him a baby, my heart shattered.

But through the rain and the clouds, there is always the sun.

And that sun is our next adventure:  Adoption.

This isn't how I pictured our family growing, I don't think either of us ever did, but it feels right. 

 It feels like this is the path we are meant to take.

What is this new path going to look like?  

We don't know.

What we do know is that we are on it together and we can't wait to see what we find along the way! 

And that's exciting!!

Things are moving . . .

Lots of things are moving!

Yesterday we went in for our preliminary blood work for IVF.  Just routine stuff, just making sure we don't have any crazy stuff hiding around!

Who doesn't love 7 am doctor appointments?!?!

Next was a scan to check on the follicles.  The left ovary, Waldo, has been an issue for quite some time now.  He is hiding, being pushed up and off to the side by the fibroid type thing that refused it's eviction notice last summer.  So he, Waldo, is MIA.  But the right guy, the reliable guy, the guy who is always there, working away, hanging out right where he should be, wasn't there.  He has decided that he would like to play a little hide and seek as well.  

Awesome.

Two steps forward, one step back appears to still be our game of choice.

BUT . . . he isn't so hidden that we can't see him.  He is just hidden enough that he is extremely uncomfortable and difficult to find.  Not impossible.  The Doctor *thinks* that he counted 15 follicles.  That's pretty awesome.  We'll take it.

So what's next on our to do list?  This:

This is the last of the testing we need to do and hopefully about three weeks from now we will be starting our meds for our first round of IVF!  

Moving Forward

June is a good news month.  A moving forward month.  

Last June we had surgery which was a stepping stone for IUI and if needed, eventual IVF.  

It was a big step!!

This year, June brought with it news that we are (fingers crossed) going to be able to move forward with IVF in September!!! Yay!!!

On Monday I went to the clinic for a blood draw and can I tell you something?  I missed it.  All of my favorite nurses were there - it was like a mini reunion!!!  I have missed that place.  I didn't realize it, but I did.  I guess when you go someplace and interact so . . . intimately . . . and frequently with a group of people, it's natural to miss them when all of a sudden you don't see them anymore.  It's funny.  I read another blog post about this very thing, and I thought I kinda got it, but it wasn't until I pulled in the parking lot Monday morning that I REALLY got it.  Remind me I said all that the end of August when I am complaining of my near daily appointments.  Ok? :-)

Progress.  That's what's happening.  We have a schedule of anticipated dates for anticipated medications and procedures.  We have a tentative retrieval date and a tentative transfer date  We have a list of things we have to do, tests to have done, labs to have drawn.  And then there was the paperwork.  35 pages of legal documents where we had to decide what to do with our embryos (eek!!!).  This was like big kid stuff.  What happens to the little beans if we both die, if one of us dies, if we get divorced, if we decide to stop.  Then there is insurance for the beans, and transportation and storage options.  There is a lot that goes into this!!! Dare I say it was kinda fun?

I know in my head that we are still VERY early in this process.  Many things can happen and or not happen.  This could all come crumbling down.  My head knows that.  My heart?  It really hasn't gotten that part of the message.  It is in full on "the cup is half full . . . maybe over  filling" mode.  And for now, I am ok with that.  My heart deserves a little optimism and hope.  :-)

Wonderings

I have heard that I will know when it is time to move on from this koala quest.  

Somehow I would just know.

I think I am almost there.  

The clinic isn't moving too fast with their new accreditation.  It's not their fault . . . it is a slow process. I get that.  

But this past month has been shot free, med free, scheduled sex free, appointment free, procedure free and I have kinda liked it.  Like I have REALLY liked it.  It was probably one of the first months since dating the Mister that I haven't been totally consumed with the what if/maybe/hopefully thoughts.  And I don't miss them.  At all.  This was the first month in YEARS that I didn't cry when my period started.  Not even one tear.

I feel like I have me back.  I am not trying to do something because I am told to and that is a very freeing feeling.  I am in charge of me not an appointment book.

I don't know if any of this makes sense to anyone else.  I might be crazy.  

Since I mentioned crazy . . . am I just trying to pretend that I am ready to stop and not go any further because I don't want to be hurt and crushed if it doesn't work out?  

I have been known to put a stop to things/people/relationships just on the off chance I might get hurt.  

Is that what I am doing?

I don't know.

I am scared of IVF not working and that really is the end of the line.  There aren't really any options after that to have our own baby.  And what if we are on the adoption waiting list for years and years and no one wants us to raise their baby either?  

I know I could do the what if's all day . . . and all night . . . but they are there and I can't make them go away.

The Icing

In this crazy journey, it is so easy to get caught up in what you don't have . . . and then something happens and you are slapped in the face with what you DO have.

Yesterday we had a little scare.  

We took our beloved little fur baby Molly to the dog park.  She HATES the dog park.  Well, it's more of a love hate sort of relationship.  She LOVES getting to go, but HATES having to interact with the other dogs (she is a bit of a snob and won't play with just anyone).  But, at this particular park, there is a spot, just outside the dog park boundaries, that is a little service road and there is lots of fresh grass, which she loves.  Our normal routine when we go to this park is to  park the car on the opposite side of the park from this little grassy area.  We walk the long way around the park, go to the grassy area and run her.  It's by far her most favorite thing to do at the park!  Mister stays at one end of the grassy area, I walk quite a ways down and then we call Molly back and forth and she just RUNS . . . and smiles.  She LOVES this part of the park.  When she is all tuckered out, we cut back across the park, led by our little fur baby who is ready to go to her car and go home to her couch.

We did this yesterday.  We parked on the far end of the dog park, walked the long way through the outskirts of the park along the river and made our way to the beloved grassy area.  She was in heaven.  She looked like a little bunny hopping through the grass.  Then all of a sudden, she collapsed.  She was hurt.  Back right leg was pulled up as tight as she could get it against her body.  The Mister waited with her while I went to get the car (longest walk ever) and then we were off to the puppy ER.  

She cried the entire way to the vet.  She was not happy.  Papa sat in the back with her the whole way and did what he could to make her comfortable.  

We thought she had hurt her paw, but it turns out, she may have damaged her CCL - the equivalent of our ACL.  She has pain meds and anti inflammatory meds.

18 hours later (babying, coddling, cuddling, loving on the Moo 18 hours later) she seems ok.   Like nothing ever happened ok.  Weight is being put on both legs.  No crying.  No anything.  If you were to see her right now, you would think we are crazy.  And maybe we are.  But the thought that SOMETHING could have happened to her and she could be gone scared the crap out of us.  

We are in every definition of the term . . . crazy dog people.  She is our baby.  Our one and only child . . . with fur and four legs, but that doesn't matter.  We are her everything and she is ours.  And that is what matters.

This blog has been so focused on what I don't have and it's depressing.  Depressing because I have a lot.  So much more than so many people.  I am very lucky.  I feel bad that Molly had to be in pain for me to remember that, but I got it.  :-)  

A baby won't complete us - the Mister and me.  We are already complete.  Our relationship is stronger and more solid than it ever has been before (in so many ways thanks to this infertility journey, oddly enough!).  We have the most amazing life.  We have everything we could ever want and then some.  A baby won't complete our family, it would just be the icing on the cake.  The sweetest, richest, life enhancing icing.  

I want the icing, but I am really, really happy with the cake.

5 months . . .

It's been five months since I was apparently last here.  That feels like a lifetime ago! 

So where are we?  

Pretty much where we were five months ago.

Let's see.

Five failed IUI cycles and two canceled IUI cycles due to my body not responding to meds.

About that whole my body not responding to meds thing.  Yeah.  In December, my body decided that it was tired.  It didn't want to mature the follicles.  It was just done.  In February, we kicked things into high gear.  Like super high gear.  Four shots a day high gear.  Did you know that you can hit a nerve in your leg when you give yourself shots?  No?  Well, you can.  And it hurts, so I would advise not doing that. :-)  

We are so totally pros at this whole shot giving thing now.  The Mister mixes the cocktail, hands the syringes to me and with a poke and grimace, it's done.  Done until the next night, that is.

This latest cycle was just plain hilarious, really.  When I went in for the actual IUI procedure, it was like a bad Saturday Night Live skit.  

You have to go in with a full bladder.  Full enough to where you would take the next exit on the freeway kinda full. 

My appointment was at 11:00, check in at 10:45 (with a full bladder).  They take me back a little late, probably about 11:10 or so.  Check my bladder and guess what?  It was full.  Go figure.  I am a pro at this whole IUI thing now, remember?!? :-)

11:30 . . . still no doctor.  The sweet nurse comes in, gives me the extension to her desk, just in case I really, really can't wait anymore, says it won't be too much longer, there is an embryo transfer that is taking a bit longer than they planned, and then left.  

11:50 . . . Dr. O comes in, with two nurses and another doctor.  Turns out Dr. O wants a vacation and this guest doctor is going to cover with him, so he is shadowing today getting to know the practice.   No biggie.  The more people the merrier, especially when I am naked, spread eagle and inverted upside down.  No biggie.

Remember the full bladder thing?  My bladder is so full by this point that it turns out it is pushing my cervix up out of reach and that isn't a good thing.  After about five minutes or so of intense pushing on the speculum by BOTH doctors (so very awkward . . . and not too comfy, either) they decide that I have to empty my bladder just a little bit.  So off I go!  The nurse gives me a specimen cup and tells me I can let one and a half specimen cups go.  And that, my friends, was like a mean, mean joke! At this point I figured I would be good to go, but now my cervix has flipped backwards.  Awesome.  With some more pushing, pulling and readjusting, everything got to where it needed to go and it was done!

After all that, 10 days later, we find out it didn't work.

And now, we move forward to IVF.

Because the clinic we go to has had some changes in their policies with the hospital they are affiliated with, we have to wait 90 days while the staff is recertified (or something!) before we can do an egg retrieval.  So now we are waiting.

But the waiting isn't all that bad.  I mean we get the next several months to just be us.  No shots.  No crazy oral meds.  No early morning ultrasounds every three days.  No tracking of anything.  No obligatory sex because a test says we should have sex (which never goes well, by the way.).  

It's officially be over four years of trying, three of those years working with fertility clinics.  There have been lots of people and things involved.  Lots of tears shed.  Lots of arguments.  Lots of dollars. Lots of a lot of things.

And while our goal hasn't changed, the wishes and hopes and dreams of having our own baby have not diminished, we, or maybe just I, am ready.

Ready for a break.

Just us.

And that is pretty exciting.

But when we get word that we can move forward and everyone has the new certification they need for the OR and we can start the next round of meds and shots and ultrasounds, you better believe that we will be ALL OVER THAT.  

A break will be nice . . . but a baby will be even nicer.

Tricky

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.