Megan is Brilliant

I just read the most incredible post by Megan at Bottoms off and on a Break. She is an amazing blogger who has some of the most amazing creative projects, videos, and infertility artwork. I hope that I am not violating blog etiquette by reposting this here - but it is just that incredible.  Please go to her site and let her know if you are also blown away by the power of her words.

How does it feel to be infertile?
by Megan at Bottoms off and on a Break

I've never been asked by a fertile person how it feels to be infertile.  No infertile person has ever had to ask how it feels.  However, I have often found myself wondering if I could explain to a fertile person how infertility feels.

It's so abstract.  I won't die from this disease.  I've not lost any limbs.  I don't have any visible scars.  In my own case I've not lost anything tangible really.  I've lost clusters of cells, even my one miscarriage was a blighted ovum; a non baby.

The only way I can describe how being infertile feels is to equate it to what I imagine it would be like to love a child...

Infertility feels like loving a child...but the exact opposite.

I imagine that when a child is born the parents feel overwhelming feelings of joy, pride, happiness, and love.  I'm sure it is indescribable.  I'm sure it is emotionally debilitating, makes you reevaluate your life, makes you change your life for the better.

Infertility has made me feel that way too...but the exact opposite.

I imagine that when you are a parent the love you have for your child permeates your life in all sorts of little ways.  I'm sure that sometimes that love catches you off guard in little moments.  You remember your love when you see a picture, hear a comment, or smell a scent.  I imagine that love for a child is like a pleasant whisper throughout the day.

Infertility has made me feel that way too...but the exact opposite.

I'm sure that everyday as a parent is not good.  Just as everyday without children is not bad.

However, if a fertile person ever thinks to ask me how it feels to be infertile; if a fertile person ever wants to understand; I would tell them to think of all the intense love they have for their child, all the little ways that being a parent makes them happy.  I imagine the intensity of feeling is the same.

But where they have love I have bitterness.
But where they have hope I have despair.
But where they have peace I have heartbreak.

And just as a parent will always be a parent.  I will always be infertile.

FIVE little follies

Oh my goodness
Oh my goodness

I took my clomid (100mg) on cycle days 3-7. I didn't notice any side effects, except for some wonderful excitiement :)

We went in for my first monitering appoitnment this morning. Everything looked good. Maybe a little TOO good!

We have FIVE folicles. Yep, FIVE beautiful round folicles with FIVE perfect little eggs. Three of them are ready to go, and the other two are right on the cusp of being ready.

The Doctor explained that he takes the risk of multiples very seriously and that he advises patients to cancel the cycle anytime there are more than three potential folicles. ML and I exchanged looks. I knew what he was thinking before he even opened his mouth. I love that man so much.

ML asks, "So are you advising us to cancel, or are you telling us that we have to cancel? We've been waiting a long time for this." I am so glad that he talks at these appointments, since I can barely open my mouth. I love him so much.

The Doctor replies that it is our decision, and again reviews the risks of multiples, and the process of selective reduction. We exchange looks again. ML asks if we can have a minute to talk privately. Oh my god do I love him.

The Doctor leaves the room, and I grab ML's hand. We decide to proceed. We agree to consider selective reduction to prevent high order multiples. We are ready for whatever comes next. I decide that only three of the eggs will release, so it won't be an issue. I adore ML more than words can describe.

The Doctor comes back into the room. We tell him our decision. He says alrighty then. We are ready to rawk and roll!

He gives me the trigger shot and an appointment to return on Saturday and Sunday morning for back to back IUI. A blood test is schedueld for November 16th!

I am overwhelmed with excitement and joy, and love - so much love, as we check out and pay our bill. I look at ML and he is more handsome than ever before. He is so strong and loving and wonderful. We walk outside and embrace. I could stand right there in his arms forever.

We take a few beep breaths together.
We can do this.
We are doing this.

Naive excitement

I feel kind of giddy.
Like there are little joyful butterflys floating around inside of me.
Like I have a special, potentially wonderful, secret that no one knows about.
I love this feeling.

When we first started trying I felt this excitement.
This lightness.
This sense of purpose and future.
Of possibility.

I don't feel like I am waiting any more.
Everyday that passes is a day that my body is doing important work.
This cycle is special.
This cycle is real.
This is our first real chance.
I am loving every minute of it.

inevitable questions

I can remember being in a grocery store with my mom. I must have been six or seven. My two younger sisters were in the cart. An older woman approached us to ohh and ahh over my littlest sister who was still quite young. I can so clearly remember the woman commenting on how different the three of us looked and asking my mother if we had the same father. The question confused me, but my mom explained to the lady that we all shared the same daddy. I remember so clearly that the lady was so nice and even now I don't think that she intended any harm by her question.


My mom was so matter of fact in her response, and so confident in her and my dads love for each of us, so proud of our differences. That was the first time I remember that question being asked, but most certainly not the last.


It is a totally inappropriate comment to make, regardless of the family circumstances. (In our case my sisters and I do share genetics from both our mother and father, but look very different from each other.) But people are curious and will ask questions, inappropriate or not. It is how we respond to and educate people about situations that they don't understand that really matters. It may not be a duty we signed up for, but it is necessary. I can only hope that others will offer me the same education when I say or do things that might be hurtful. 


As ML and I embark on building our family with the assistance of DS, I am thinking alot about how we will deal with the future questions and situations that are waiting for us. 


Mel reviewed a post by Kristen at I Spy a Family in her Round-Up last Friday. Kristen describes a situation that occurred in the grocery store, where a store clerk inappropriately questioned how her family was formed. She acknowledged that this was an inevitable situation for her family that has been built through adoption, but wishes that people would show respect for her children by asking questions when her children are not in ear shot. 


Kristen's post reminded me of that day we were in the grocery store, and all of the times since that the formation of my family has been questioned. It is a gentle reminder to me that these questions are normal, that we can expect them. The only part of this equation that we can control is our response. For some of us the emotions of our situation make it difficult to respond in a matter of fact way, and that is totally understandable. What I will always remember is that my mom didn't hesitate in her response, she was so confident in our family, there was no doubt about her love for my dad and their love for us. She made it so clear that we belonged together and that our differences were valued. 


I hope that I - that we all - can find that confidence. I hope that we can use it to educate others, and most importantly to show our children just how loved they are. 


Thanks Kristen for this great post, and thanks Mel for making sure that I didn't miss it!

New Chapter

Today is the beginning of a new chapter of our journey. 

Until now we have not had one single opportunity to actually get pregnant. We've spent 20% of our income and 18 months of our life seeing doctors and getting tests and trying experimental hormone treatment, but not once did we have a real chance to get pregnant. So much time spent waiting, receiving bad news at every turn, the carrot of pregnancy moved just a little farther out of our reach every time.

After my dreams were shattered with the initial Azoospermia diagnosis, it took me a long time to see beyond the day to day struggle and envision that there is in fact a Someday family waiting for us at the end of this journey. I was so caught up with worry and anticipation of the next test, the next dr appt, the next decision facing us. It was so hard to put the details in perspective and see that they were all little steps that got us closer to our dreams. Refocusing on that dream made it so much easier to navigate the path. But it also took away any sense that my Someday was anytime soon. Until today.

Today is the first day 

of the first cycle 

where we will have a chance to get pregnant. 

We met with the new RE this morning, the local one. He reviewed everything and gave us the green light to do a donor IUI cycle this month, starting with this cycle!

(This is what I wanted, but on some level I was really expecting that there would be some reason why we had to wait again.)

We got lunch. We came home. We chose a donor. We sent our new account paperwork to the cryobank.     My cycle started this afternoon, just as expected. I called and made a Friday appointment for my initial ultrasound and meds.

It is happening. It really is. I almost can't believe it.

Balancing Act

I had lunch with my mom last week. She is the awesomest mom a girl could ask for.

She brought me some info about all of the recommended pre-natals that I need to start taking. She encouraged me to get up to date on my flu and whooping couch vaccinations. She offered to research chewable pre-natals for me, since the swallow pre-natals are gross. (I was hoping that my dinosaur chewables would suffice, but mama knows best.) *** if you can recommend any good chewable pre-natals, please let me know!!!

My brave mama also asked me about how the IUI process works thinking that maybe we could take back some control of the process, de-medicalize it, and do it at home. Wouldn't that be awesome? If all other factors were equal at this point, I would really love to conceive in love with ML in the privacy and comfort of our own home.

I am really glad that I could go thru all that with my mom, so that she can understand what options we have and the factors that we are using to make decisions. 

The thing is that all other factors are not equal at this point. The way I see it we are balancing three big factors - physical, emotional, and financial - and will be choosing from essentially three different treatment options - non-medicated IUI, aggressive medicated IUI, or IVF.

Physically
From what we know, I can get pregnant. I have regular cycles and ovulate regularly. I've never taken hormonal birth control and would rather not mess with things unless necessary.
treatment choice = non-medicated iui

Emotionally
I am a mess. I want to be pregnant now. I am done waiting. The sooner I am pregnant the sooner I can move beyond the despair of this journey. The thought of prolonging treatment cycles any longer than absolutely necessary sounds completely unacceptable to me.
treatment choice = IVF

Financially
We've already spent about 20% of our income on fertility testing & treatment this past year. We have some savings, but it is limited and it makes me sick to think about spending it all. But I know we will if we have to. We'd like to be cost effective in our decisions. At quick blush were looking at a cost of $1,200 per cycle for un-medicted iui (with a 10% chance at success), $3,000 for medicated iui (with a 20% chance of success), or $15,000 for IVF (with a 50% chance of success).
treatment choice = I don't know how to do that kind of statistics, but I think it would be medicated iui.

So that leaves us... I'm not sure where exactly, but I think in the middle with an aggressive medicated iui as our starting place.

We meet the new RE on Wednesday, so we'll get better info then. (and my cycle starts on Thursday, so cross your fingers that we can jump right in! ohhhh am I hoping.)

A good omen

A lady I used to babysit for just messaged me on face.book to ask if I knew anyone who needs a nice double stroller for twins.  


It was a pretty random message to get from someone I haven't seen or talked to in over a decade. 


I am going to take it as a good omen that my Someday Twins are on the horizon :)


I was brave in my reply. Offered to help put the word out, but also said "It is kind of funny that you ask though, since I am hoping that we will be lucky enough to find ourselves with "Someday Twins" someday soon. (I'll take this as a good sign that our time will come sooner rather than later...)"

a new hello

If you're brave to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.

We are saying goodbye to the dream of having a family who shares our genetics. 

It is a loss unlike any we have ever experienced.

It is a choice I thought we could never make.

It will be different.

Different than we expected.

We will have a family.

Our love is unconditional.

We will navigate this new path with love and peace and patience.

Life will reward us with a new hello.

compassion

I was on face.book last night and came across something that has really gotten me thinking. 


One of the biggest things that I have gained from this journey is a deeper compassion for people. 

Compassion: 

A deep awareness of and sympathy for another's suffering

Understanding without judgment.

I have been shown kindness at so many critical moments by people who had no idea how much their words or actions could possibly mean to me and who had no idea that I was struggling. This infertility has consumed me for so long, and yet, most of the people who interact with me on any given day have no idea. They have no idea that I am in so much pain, that I am so emotionally exhausted, that while I am talking to them I am at the same time thinking about my cycle and our next biopsy and so on and so forth.  


They have no idea that there is a secret that I am concealing. 


Back to facebook - - - A photo had been tagged in the album of 'Sam Smith' (names changed of course to respect the privacy of those involved). I have a professional colleague named 'Suzy Smith' and wondered if Sam might be her brother. (My sister works with me an I hadn't realized that she worked with her siblings also.) I clicked over to see Sam's page and it had a picture of Suzy. I noticed a link to a blog and clicked through. 


The blog was all about Suzy's transgender experience and her recent transition to become Sam. Sam wrote incredible posts about being outed to the community, about not fitting in with traditional social structures, and about the support that comes with breaking the silence.  I don't need to 'know' Sam's experience to know that it had been a hard path. 


Reading thru Sam's posts I was struck at the similarities we've experienced on our different journeys. I tried to write more about those similarities, but can't seem to get the words right, and really don't want to inadvertently marginalize anyones journey or experience. 


Sam and I have been colleagues for some time. We've attended the same events and know who each other are, yet we've never had the opportunity to really talk beyond the social introductions. To be honest, I'm not sure that I would have really known what to talk about beyond our work.  


However, the reality is that, at each of those social events, we were both struggling with deeply personal challenges. We were both wearing a mask of social happiness and had anyone asked, we would have both responded that life was good, we were fine, concealing the truth to protect our souls. 


It's not that I ever assumed that my journey, that my pain, that my struggle was somehow 'special', but it is so hard to see beyond the social masks to know that I really am not alone. It reminds me that there is always a reason for compassion and kindness, even when it may seem unnecessary, even when we may not know the secret that a person is concealing.


I have so many more thoughts that are just not translating very well.


Sam is an awesome writer and I immediately added his blog to my reader.  Someday, I hope that I have the chance and am brave enough to tell Sam what his words mean to me.

Strong and Wise

Dear Caitlyn and Tyler,

You are two beautiful human beings. 

Watching you make the most selfless and loving choice really touched me. You opened my eyes to the full experience of adoption. You opened my heart to acceptance of the beauty and love that can be created through adoption. 

You are indeed strong and wise. Thank you for sharing your story with us. 

Love,

Foxy

Dear Brandon & Teresa,

I don't know your journey, but I do know the struggle of infertility and the longing for a child. 

I just watched the reunion episode of Teen Mom and cried. The love that you have for your daughter is so complete. The compassion that you show to Caitlyn and Tyler is so genuine. 

I just wanted to thank you for sharing your story. 

With love,

Foxy