I went in for a baseline ultrasound yesterday. Baseline appointments are pretty simple. We want to see thin uterine lining and cyst-free ovaries. I consider the baseline the start of the roller coaster. Its kind of like the moment the protective bar comes over your lap and locks you in. They warn you to stay seated as the car starts to chug up hill. There is so much anticipation of what is to come, even if you've been on it a million times. You know the feeling, right?
I enter the clinic to see at least one pregnant celebrity on the cover of People magazine. It's sprawled out for my infertile eyes to gaze upon. A couple of adorable kids are in tow as their Mom and Dad work out appointments at the front desk. The song that plays over head is the one from that commercial about the sad and neglected dogs. You know, Arms of an Angel? Just what I need to hear to put me in a good mood!
My name gets called and I am taken back to the room. That same People magazine is sitting pretty on top of the stack on the side table. Is this supposed to encourage us? Do they know how annoying this is?
I undress from the waste down and laugh at the low lighting they have in the room. The ultrasound wand is almost always cold and never as inviting as they may look. I guess low lighting is the least they could do, with the exception of maybe some vibrations.
The nurse checks the lining first, then slams the wand to my right, almost throwing me off the table. She quickly swings to my left and of course, it's small and has nothing to show us. We discussed the new protocol, she handed me a stack of prescriptions, and we booked my follicle scan.
I will go back next week to see if my follicles have grown to maturity or if we will need more medications. The goal is to be ready to do the IUI next week or so, but as history has displayed, it takes a lot longer for my body to figure out what is going on.
I call the baseline appointment the start of the rollercoaster because I leave unsure about where my emotions are. A part of me wants to reserve my hope for the success of our first IVF cycle. Why spend what we have left on an IUI that probably won't work? The other part of me is hoping that our little baby comes, right before we pull out the big guns! How does one maintain hope while also preparing for it to fail? How do you research and prepare for such an expensive journey while simultaneously holding your breath in anticipation of good news?
As one could imagine, it's difficult to stay balanced. Once the hormones start to kick in the challenge becomes even more daunting. We are along for a ride that doesn't seem to have an end in sight. We continue to prepare and we continue to wait. That's what infertility is.
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Wednesday, March 20, 2019
Maybe Momma
I was waiting at a red light when the mini van in front of me caught my attention. Two little arms stretched out from the car seat, fingers spread with excitement. I noticed a window decal displaying a stick figure family of 5. Moms in mini vans make my heart twist in a way I never knew was possible until I came to know infertility.
The light turned green and sure enough, I would be following this family the remainder of my commute to work.
I pulled into the parking lot and breathed a sigh of relief. Only for a second though as I trudged up the stairs and unlocked the door with the pink "Maternal Massage" sign on the front. As soon as the door shuts behind me, I am greeted by photographs of beautiful, pregnant women days away from their due date. Clutching their bellies, their skin displays that perfect, soft, pregnancy glow. I would be lying if I said that doing what I do does not have its moments of torment. After all, its been over a year of trying to conceive and my womb is still empty.
When Isaac and I got married I did not picture myself here. In fact, I tried to convince him to be cool with starting sooner than we originally agreed upon because I was so anxious to start a family! He was just as anxious but not as ready and insisted we keep with our plan because, "What if it happens right away?"
Lets all laugh together, shall we?
*****
For the last 14 months of our life, most days within every month, have been filled with peeing on sticks of all kinds (ovulation predictors and pregnancy tests). Its been full of words like, "Ill ask the Doctor" and "Will this ever happen for us?" Its been thousands of dollars in tests, ultrasounds, blood work, and hormones. Shots in the stomach and weeks of anxiety. For a handful of days after my fertile window has came and went, I call out to Isaac from the bathroom asking him if he sees that second pink line on the test. We squint and stare at those tests in our hands. Shine the flash light on them, take pictures and edit the light, in hopes that our naked, human eye just isn't seeing the positive result. When we have agreed that there isn't a second line I find myself, hours later, digging them out of the trash. You know, just to be sure. The process begins all over again when the fertility clinic calls to give you a bland and rehearsed "I am sorry but you aren't pregnant" phone call.
We went in at 10 am today for blood work. This was beta day. The day we would learn if our IUI had worked and if we were pregnant. We knew it would take a while to have them call us with the results, so I have been not so patiently waiting next to my phone all day long. Of course, it rings off the hook for massage appointments, shooting my heart all the way through my butt every time my phone started to go off. I had a late afternoon massage session and knew they would happen to call during that time because how else does it go? When I finished my massage and checked my phone, I saw two voicemails from the fertility clinic. TWO! Ten minutes ago! It must have been so important, they tried to call TWICE! But alas, the clinic had closed and no one would be there to take my call. My heart started to pound and my vision literally tunneled. My hands were shaking and I was still waiting for my client to get dressed and check out. I had to compose myself in the outside because the inside was a mess.
I typically wouldn't panic this much. At this point in my cycle, I have been taking tests and paying very close attention to the signals my body gives off before my period comes. By the time beta blood day rolls around, I already know the end result, therefore I am not pacing the floor for hours on end waiting for them to call me. This cycle was different though. We tried the IUI. We had 28.4 million sperm make it through the wash. The rest of our intercourse was timed perfectly. We remained positive and hopeful right up until beta day! My temps stayed high (I track my core body temp with a device that allows me to confirm ovulation and possibly pregnancy- you want high temps) and I had 4 days of sore breasts. Sore breasts is not a common symptom of my period, as a matter of fact, that never happens to me! I know for a fact that tender breasts is one of the earliest signs of pregnancy so we remained hopeful that this time we wouldn't get the "you're not pregnant" phone call.
Let me back track just for a second here and give you some insight to what infertility really looks like.
After 3 days of having sore boobs and getting too much anxiety to handle myself, I took a pregnancy test. It was negative. What? No way. This experience was so unusual it could only be pregnancy or a late side effect to a new medication I tried this cycle. I tried to google information about the drug and wasn't finding anything that seemed reliable. Women can get a positive pregnancy test as early as 9 days after ovulation and I was at 11 with negative results. It didnt make sense that I had pregnancy symptoms for so long but was getting negative tests. I tried to convince myself that it was still early and waiting for the blood draw was best. However I couldnt stop thinking myself into circles of anxious insanity. I needed validation that it was possibly pregnancy and that my levels were just too low to register on a HPT or confirmation that it was a side effect of the hormones.I was one day away from beta but the reassurance was too necessary, or so I believed. I called in a panic and left a voicemail for their nursing staff. A few minutes later they called back. I was right about a potential pregnancy and it was also possible that I produced more progesterone than normal and was having a reaction to that. I would like to say that helped me balance my expectations, but.....
Fast forward to the two voicemails waiting for me. I quickly pressed play and hoped I could listen to them both before my client needed my attention again. I was expecting them to tell me they needed me back for another beta blood draw on Friday and to call before they closed to schedule it. Instead, no valuable information was given in either one but both of them ended with, "... You will have to call first thing tomorrow morning to get your results..."
What?! Tomorrow?! I cannot wait until tomorrow! I put my phone down and held back tears as my client walked down the hall and into our lobby. The whole process probably only took 5 minutes or so, but by the time she had said good bye and the door shut behind her, I felt like an eternity had passed. I immediately called the clinic and without even thinking transferred myself to the emergency hotline. When the Nurse answered I apologized profusely because it was certainly not an emergency, but I was desperate for my results and if anyone was still available to read them to me I would be so grateful.
Within two minutes I was answering a call from a nurse with UFC telling me that I was not pregnant.
We got the phone call. Again.
The nurse did inform me that the Doctor wants to get aggressive with medication this next IUI. It is our last one before IVF becomes our only option, so we want to do everything we can. The protocol will be pretty vigorous and I was told to prepare myself.
The call ended as I folded into myself and wailed.
I never thought I would be here. As a matter of fact, every time I have sat down to start this blog, I have told myself that if I post it and find out I am pregnant the next week, I will look like the girl who was just impatient and whiny. Ill be the girl who exaggerated about her "infertility". I didn't think it was bad enough to blog about it.
I realized how dumb that is, so here we are.
We have been trying to have a baby for 14 going on 15 months. I have one functioning ovary on my right side and a flawless tube on my left. Nether side functions properly all together. I have a pituitary tumor and PCOS. Both cause infertility, one threatens egg quality and both make my reactions to fertility drugs slow. Slow reaction time only makes treatment more expensive because it requires more medication and more monitoring.
This has been a long, exhausting road. And guess what? It has also been extremely difficult. Studies actually show that people with infertility experience the same stress level as someone with cancer. Learning that helped me see that perhaps I should give myself a break.
So I am starting this blog. I am going to be open and it is going to be public. Sometimes it may be too much, but such is infertility.
I am triggered by things that also bring me joy. Like babies. As I type this I hear the faint cries of a newborn through our thin apartment walls. The feet of a toddler dance up and down the hall way above us every night. I cant escape triggers because I have a job I adore that revolves around pregnant moms. Most days I dont even want to leave my house because I live in Utah, where everyone is pregnant or just had a baby. I talk seriously about giving up and accepting a life without kids. That never feels right so we press on.
I ask myself on a daily basis, "Do you believe that you will ever hear someone call you momma?"
The answer right now? Maybe. If I am being honest, the word maybe holds so much unknown, and that brings too much fear. An IUI procedure only gives us about a 20% chance of pregnancy. While IVF is a whopping 60% it also cost about 30 grand. It is so unfair that people who don't want babies are getting pregnant while on multiple forms of birth control. Meanwhile, I have to do all of this to no prevail. How come thirty thousand dollars stands between us and a baby? Why is this taking so long? Why is this so hard?
If there ever was a limbo, its called infertility and its actually more hellish than actual hell.
Maybe, someday, almost for certain, we will be parents....
The light turned green and sure enough, I would be following this family the remainder of my commute to work.
I pulled into the parking lot and breathed a sigh of relief. Only for a second though as I trudged up the stairs and unlocked the door with the pink "Maternal Massage" sign on the front. As soon as the door shuts behind me, I am greeted by photographs of beautiful, pregnant women days away from their due date. Clutching their bellies, their skin displays that perfect, soft, pregnancy glow. I would be lying if I said that doing what I do does not have its moments of torment. After all, its been over a year of trying to conceive and my womb is still empty.
When Isaac and I got married I did not picture myself here. In fact, I tried to convince him to be cool with starting sooner than we originally agreed upon because I was so anxious to start a family! He was just as anxious but not as ready and insisted we keep with our plan because, "What if it happens right away?"
Lets all laugh together, shall we?
*****
For the last 14 months of our life, most days within every month, have been filled with peeing on sticks of all kinds (ovulation predictors and pregnancy tests). Its been full of words like, "Ill ask the Doctor" and "Will this ever happen for us?" Its been thousands of dollars in tests, ultrasounds, blood work, and hormones. Shots in the stomach and weeks of anxiety. For a handful of days after my fertile window has came and went, I call out to Isaac from the bathroom asking him if he sees that second pink line on the test. We squint and stare at those tests in our hands. Shine the flash light on them, take pictures and edit the light, in hopes that our naked, human eye just isn't seeing the positive result. When we have agreed that there isn't a second line I find myself, hours later, digging them out of the trash. You know, just to be sure. The process begins all over again when the fertility clinic calls to give you a bland and rehearsed "I am sorry but you aren't pregnant" phone call.
We went in at 10 am today for blood work. This was beta day. The day we would learn if our IUI had worked and if we were pregnant. We knew it would take a while to have them call us with the results, so I have been not so patiently waiting next to my phone all day long. Of course, it rings off the hook for massage appointments, shooting my heart all the way through my butt every time my phone started to go off. I had a late afternoon massage session and knew they would happen to call during that time because how else does it go? When I finished my massage and checked my phone, I saw two voicemails from the fertility clinic. TWO! Ten minutes ago! It must have been so important, they tried to call TWICE! But alas, the clinic had closed and no one would be there to take my call. My heart started to pound and my vision literally tunneled. My hands were shaking and I was still waiting for my client to get dressed and check out. I had to compose myself in the outside because the inside was a mess.
I typically wouldn't panic this much. At this point in my cycle, I have been taking tests and paying very close attention to the signals my body gives off before my period comes. By the time beta blood day rolls around, I already know the end result, therefore I am not pacing the floor for hours on end waiting for them to call me. This cycle was different though. We tried the IUI. We had 28.4 million sperm make it through the wash. The rest of our intercourse was timed perfectly. We remained positive and hopeful right up until beta day! My temps stayed high (I track my core body temp with a device that allows me to confirm ovulation and possibly pregnancy- you want high temps) and I had 4 days of sore breasts. Sore breasts is not a common symptom of my period, as a matter of fact, that never happens to me! I know for a fact that tender breasts is one of the earliest signs of pregnancy so we remained hopeful that this time we wouldn't get the "you're not pregnant" phone call.
Let me back track just for a second here and give you some insight to what infertility really looks like.
After 3 days of having sore boobs and getting too much anxiety to handle myself, I took a pregnancy test. It was negative. What? No way. This experience was so unusual it could only be pregnancy or a late side effect to a new medication I tried this cycle. I tried to google information about the drug and wasn't finding anything that seemed reliable. Women can get a positive pregnancy test as early as 9 days after ovulation and I was at 11 with negative results. It didnt make sense that I had pregnancy symptoms for so long but was getting negative tests. I tried to convince myself that it was still early and waiting for the blood draw was best. However I couldnt stop thinking myself into circles of anxious insanity. I needed validation that it was possibly pregnancy and that my levels were just too low to register on a HPT or confirmation that it was a side effect of the hormones.I was one day away from beta but the reassurance was too necessary, or so I believed. I called in a panic and left a voicemail for their nursing staff. A few minutes later they called back. I was right about a potential pregnancy and it was also possible that I produced more progesterone than normal and was having a reaction to that. I would like to say that helped me balance my expectations, but.....
Fast forward to the two voicemails waiting for me. I quickly pressed play and hoped I could listen to them both before my client needed my attention again. I was expecting them to tell me they needed me back for another beta blood draw on Friday and to call before they closed to schedule it. Instead, no valuable information was given in either one but both of them ended with, "... You will have to call first thing tomorrow morning to get your results..."
What?! Tomorrow?! I cannot wait until tomorrow! I put my phone down and held back tears as my client walked down the hall and into our lobby. The whole process probably only took 5 minutes or so, but by the time she had said good bye and the door shut behind her, I felt like an eternity had passed. I immediately called the clinic and without even thinking transferred myself to the emergency hotline. When the Nurse answered I apologized profusely because it was certainly not an emergency, but I was desperate for my results and if anyone was still available to read them to me I would be so grateful.
Within two minutes I was answering a call from a nurse with UFC telling me that I was not pregnant.
We got the phone call. Again.
The nurse did inform me that the Doctor wants to get aggressive with medication this next IUI. It is our last one before IVF becomes our only option, so we want to do everything we can. The protocol will be pretty vigorous and I was told to prepare myself.
The call ended as I folded into myself and wailed.
I never thought I would be here. As a matter of fact, every time I have sat down to start this blog, I have told myself that if I post it and find out I am pregnant the next week, I will look like the girl who was just impatient and whiny. Ill be the girl who exaggerated about her "infertility". I didn't think it was bad enough to blog about it.
I realized how dumb that is, so here we are.
We have been trying to have a baby for 14 going on 15 months. I have one functioning ovary on my right side and a flawless tube on my left. Nether side functions properly all together. I have a pituitary tumor and PCOS. Both cause infertility, one threatens egg quality and both make my reactions to fertility drugs slow. Slow reaction time only makes treatment more expensive because it requires more medication and more monitoring.
This has been a long, exhausting road. And guess what? It has also been extremely difficult. Studies actually show that people with infertility experience the same stress level as someone with cancer. Learning that helped me see that perhaps I should give myself a break.
So I am starting this blog. I am going to be open and it is going to be public. Sometimes it may be too much, but such is infertility.
I am triggered by things that also bring me joy. Like babies. As I type this I hear the faint cries of a newborn through our thin apartment walls. The feet of a toddler dance up and down the hall way above us every night. I cant escape triggers because I have a job I adore that revolves around pregnant moms. Most days I dont even want to leave my house because I live in Utah, where everyone is pregnant or just had a baby. I talk seriously about giving up and accepting a life without kids. That never feels right so we press on.
I ask myself on a daily basis, "Do you believe that you will ever hear someone call you momma?"
The answer right now? Maybe. If I am being honest, the word maybe holds so much unknown, and that brings too much fear. An IUI procedure only gives us about a 20% chance of pregnancy. While IVF is a whopping 60% it also cost about 30 grand. It is so unfair that people who don't want babies are getting pregnant while on multiple forms of birth control. Meanwhile, I have to do all of this to no prevail. How come thirty thousand dollars stands between us and a baby? Why is this taking so long? Why is this so hard?
If there ever was a limbo, its called infertility and its actually more hellish than actual hell.
Maybe, someday, almost for certain, we will be parents....
 |
| 5 days worth of tests. Some with false positives after the medications that give false positives have already left my system |
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