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.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Monday, March 23, 2015
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.
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.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
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.
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.
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 . . .
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