I'm not entirely sure why those four little words sting so much; that's all they are, really; words.
Maybe it's because I'll never have a baby that way.
Maybe it's because it implies that the 'newer, medical way' is a bad thing.
Maybe it's because I'm on the pill & it turns me into a hypersensitive freak.
Maybe it's because I'd not-so-secretly love for that to happen for us.
They're only words, yes.. but they hurt.
Written as part of Microblog Mondays @ Stirrup Queens
There's something about getting started on a new cycle that brings about a whole lot of clarity. I always feel more positive and less cynical, and a tiny flutter of hope stirs in my too-often jaded heart.
I think it's partially because we are doing something, and moving forward - because waiting around and having no shot at getting pregnant is agony! I also think it's because it's a fresh try... no disappointments yet, no expectations - just fresh hope that we might just have a bit more luck this time around.
Lately I've been remembering back to when we first started trying for a baby - before the infertility meds, before the IVF, before any of that - just us, some charting & some Metformin for my wonky cycles. Those first few months were full of excitement, followed by frustration, followed by sadness and insecurity about what our future would look like. Watching people fall pregnant around us, even those that we didn't know personally, while we were still waiting. Watching those pregnancies turn into newborns, while we were still waiting. Watching those newborns grow up into beautiful little cherubs, and watching those parents grow their family even further with a new pregnancy, while we were still waiting. Those were some of the hardest moments, when we swallowed our disappointment, shed many tears, and held out hope that we would get there in the end, someday, somehow.
We're at about that timeframe again now, while trying for #2. The ones around us who were trying for another baby have either had that baby, are due for that baby any minute now, or are enjoying pregnancies - while we are still waiting. Does it make them lucky? Of course it does! Does it make us unlucky? I suppose so.
I've been so desperately searching for an answer to why we were dealt these cards again, why we've had so much thrown at us in the last few years... and I automatically assume that we're cursed, that we're unlucky, that we've done something to 'deserve' being the ones always left behind. But what I'm finally learning, after all these years & all these emotions, is that other people's luck doesn't have any influence on our luck. That's all it is, after all: luck.
Don't get me wrong - we have been unlucky. We have strugged, and we're continuing to struggle. Who knows, we might continue to struggle for the months to come; there are no guarantees here.
But we ARE lucky. We have each other, for all of our good and our bad. We have Georgia, who was worth every minute and every tear shed and every dollar spent. We have support systems who 'get' us, who cut us some slack during the tough times, and who forgive us when the emotions get the better of us. We live in a country where IVF is available to us, where we can try again - like we're doing now. We are lucky.
And maybe, just maybe, we'll GET lucky this cycle! :)
Pulling out grass and letting it fall back to the ground - loads of fun!
I'm just going to jump right in again, for old time's sake:
I was sure I was out a few days ago. I felt down, sick as as a dog, and apart from the odd squinty shadow on the internet cheapie pregnancy tests, everything pointed to negative. 9dpo, 10dpo, nothing. I was already getting ready to gear up for starting over. Then, on 11dpo (or 6dpt) I thought I saw a faint pink line.
Hubby had to take it into the light and stare at it from odd angles before he saw it - but it was there. It's gradually gotten stronger, and now we cross our fingers and hope it continues.
If it was any other pregnancy, there is no way I would be announcing it this early - so much can change in these early days - but I can't keep a secret from my beautiful IVF community that I value so much. So, like last time, I'd ask that if any of our real life friends or family members are reading this, please keep it quiet for now & respect our tiny little secret. We have a long way to go yet... but are cautiously over the moon!
This morning I came across a lone post sitting in my drafts folder - talk about a blast from the past. I'm not sure why I never posted it back in July of last year; probably because I was in the process of recapping our wedding, and never got around to it? Maybe because things were too raw, and I wasn't really being as 'out there' about our TTC struggles? I really can't tell you.
In the spirit of ICLW week, I thought I'd share it here.. I'm sure many people can relate to the frustrations involved with TTC, wanting so desperately to have a baby, and being blocked at what feels like every step of the way.
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July 2011
This whole baby thing is hard work. And we don't even have a baby.
I knew it would be a struggle to fall pregnant. I've known for a while. I've read the books. I've researched. I've watched the documentaries. I know that my body is screwed up, and I've known about it for a while now. But even though I've had this awareness of the difficulties in conceiving, I'm really feeling it now. We've been trying for a little while, but it's different now. It's like... now that we're married and have been in the right frame of mind to seriously want to be parents now, everything is continuing to go against us. All those fears and worries are suddenly more real now - because we've gone from 'struggling in the future' to 'struggling in the here and now.'
I saw a doctor today, six months after my last check up. After the scans and the bloodwork and the lectures about PCOS and high insulin and weight gain, after the Metformin was upped, after the diet was discussed... it's pretty obvious that things aren't going to just 'happen' for us. I've been charting my ridiculous cycles for a few months now, after monitoring them for almost two years. I'm not ovulating. I have no 'average' cycle. I've been monitoring ovulation by temp, cervix, mucus and strips ... nothing is happening. My doctor told me I was silly for even trying those methods, and said that considering my high insulin levels, if I'm ovulating naturally it's a miracle.
I asked if I could go on Clomid, or another medication to help me to ovulate. That was shot down, due to my ovarian cysts. Apparently, I'm not ovulating consistently or fully - the eggs aren't releasing properly, if at all, and when they do, they are half-expelled and result in cysts. If I take any drugs to hyper-stimulate ovulation, all that's likely to happen is for me to accumulate even MORE ovarian cysts, which could hinder the process all over again.
This is where infertility sucks - everyone is so different. It's one thing to be ovulating regularly and having a regular cycle - at least then you know you're trying each month at your fertile time and nothing is working. But for me and my long and erratic cycles, I'm not even getting twelve shots at falling pregnant each year. In fact, going by my average of 55 days,we will only get 6 tries each years. SIX. When you break it down into numbers like that, adding in all of the normal 'odds' of getting knocked up, it's no bloody wonder things won't be happening anytime soon.
I've been given another time-frame, another six months to wait. I've been told to 'relax' and to eat well and to take my Metformin 3x per day. It's the same information I've heard before. As if it were easy to just drop the weight and keep it off, despite struggling with it for years now. As if I'm not trying. As if six months is no time at all. But six months we'll wait. And you know what? I'm going to continue charting. I'm going to continue peeing on sticks. Because even if it IS a miracle to be ovulating, I want to know about what my body is doing. Come December/January, I'll be putting my big girl pants on and demanding to see someone else.
*Be warned: this blog post contains pee sticks a-plenty.
This past week has been crazy. The TWW went by like any other - but it was a lot more bearable this time around, since it was a 5-day transfer. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out until August 15th, but I was trying to wait until at least 10dpo before testing. This was the first indication I had that something might have been going on.
I kept peeing, of course. I wanted to see that line get darker and darker. This was 13dpo, getting darker...
... and darker again at 14dpo. Huzzah! This whole pee stick thing is awesome, but kind of addictive. I'm hooked.
I had blood drawn for a beta yesterday afternoon, but won't know my numbers for a few days yet. I'm praying it's exactly where it should be, this early on. This morning's sticks still looked pretty dark though, thank goodness.
Tomorrow, Wednesday, is when I was supposed to hold out until before peeing on a stick. I have to call the clinic and let them know the result, and then wait to see what they say next. It's all very new to us!
If any of our real life friends or family members are reading this, I'd ask that you please keep this information quiet for now. We've got a long way to go, and we're not quite ready to share our news with the whole world yet - the online world is enough for us right now! We appreciate your good wishes & hope you'll respect our tiny little secret. Thanks!
Everything feels different this time around. I think the relief from hearing the good news on transfer day has stayed with me, because I'm feeling ... dare I say it.. chipper? What? Me? WHO AM I? I don't know this person.
I quite literally had to hold the tears in (happy ones) as the doctor transferred our blasty, and that was that. Just like last time, I waddled my way back to the car, knees together, praying it wouldn't fall out.
I know it's silly to read into things, but this cycle feels so much different to the first one. We actually have options this time, and we're doing ok. Not only that, everyone around me appears to be pregnant right now - we walked right into a group of pregnant women doing a hospital tour just before the transfer, and even our nurse at the centre was pregnant. I wonder if it's a sign? :)
Bring on the TWW!
After my first IVF retrieval, I remember feeling that awkward pressure/pain in my nether regions, which lasted a few days after the procedure. By Day 3, when my one surviving embryo was transferred, the pains had vanished, and I was just left with the overwhelmingly attractive bloat that stayed with me until my cycle was over.
This text message:
Man, I feel like our luck just keeps going from bad to worse. Why is IVF proving so rubbish for us?
I was feeling ok (since 3 out of the 4 follicles they'd told me about wasn't too bad) but then we had bad news from hubby. His first sample didn't have enough motile swimmers, so he was asked back for a second sample. We had to wait about an hour to see a scientist (apparently they have meetings on Monday?) and my cheerful post-op nature suddenly turned to tiredness. To top it all off, the scientist was a bit flippant with us, which led me to burst into tears in the exam room.
Basically, the sperm weren't motile, even from the second sample, that we have now been swapped from IVF to ICSI. Knowing that not every egg is mature, we're looking at 1-2 fertilising IF we're lucky.. so no frosties again, and no 5-day transfer (unless the gods deem us lucky and have 3 from 3 fertilise - not likely).
She then said something about 'oh, next time I'm sure you'll get 20 eggs!' and I just lost it. I'm so tired of this whole 'next time around' thing. It sucks. I don't WANT there to be a next time around. I want eggs to play with, not to stress out about for the next 24 hours to see if we have ANY left at all. I want to get to blast @ day 5, but the reality is looking like a 3-day again, if we get there.
Sorry for the blah news, but I'm just disappointed. Aren't the IVF rounds supposed to get BETTER as you go on, not worse? I just hope the news we get tomorrow, on my 28th birthday, isn't all bad.
Update: The fertility centre just rang, and said J's second sample was much better after it was washed, so they're reverting back to regular old IVF. Now the wait is on to see how they go tomorrow.
So, I have some not-so-great updates for IVF #2. First up, some levels from the past few days.
Wednesday (Day 7 of stims) - E2: 2373 & Progesterone: 2.5
Friday (Day 9 of stims) - E2: 3557 & Progesterone 3.5
All looking good on that front, so that made me happy. :) Last time at day 9, I was only at 1898, so I'm going to hope that means the follicles are much more mature this time around? That's got to be good.
As for this morning's appointment, I was a hot mess. The lab technician dug around in my arm something fierce to find a vein, and I've got a lovely bruise to show for it. As for the ultrasound, I was desperately wanting to see higher numbers than last time around - especially since I've felt so huge and bloated.
Unfortunately, the scan showed only 4 follicles over 14mm, and 10 follicles over 10mm, though not by much.
4.
Seriously? Are you freaking kidding me?
I must have looked really disappointed this morning, because this afternoon I got a phone call from Dr. F personally - checking in on me and seeing how I'm doing. My levels are ok. She told me not to worry, gave me the quality over quantity speech, and said that if we're lucky, 1 or 2 of the smaller follicles might catch up over the weekend. I understand she's being positive, but still, it's hard to stay positive about this round (even this early on) when my options are so limited.
Egg retrieval is scheduled for Monday at 9am. I trigger tomorrow night, with a 38 hour window to hopefully let my eggs mature that little bit more. God only knows how many they'll find at retrieval, but I'm scared.
I have to apologise for the doom and gloom around these parts lately. I'm really in a strange place right now. On the one hand, I'm really calm and mellow about this cycle. I know what to expect, I'm feeling good.
But on the other hand, this cycle feels like it has more at stake. More sadness, if it doesn't take. More waiting around if it does, waiting to see how long we wait before we try again. It's affecting me at work too; I feel preoccupied, that I'm just going through the motions. I'm doing the best I can, but it feels a little harder this time.
Tomorrow is the start of double injections. Lucrin has been going fine; now we're adding in the Puregon. Last cycle, I took 125 each day. This time, I'm taking 175 x 4 days, then dropping to 150 for several more. The goal is to get a better response than last time, but not to get TOO high, as I'm still at a higher risk for hyper stimulation thanks to my stupid bung ovaries. It's time to cross my fingers and hope my reproductive organs do their job properly.
If you ask anyone who's infertile, I'm sure they'll tell you that their emotions go up and down in waves.
You can be high; full of hope. You start to believe that this time around will work - that you've waited long enough, it's got to be your time. You look for signs, for significant dates, for something, anything that will make the next cycle.. the one.
But then, all so suddenly, you can be down; full of sadness, envy, bitterness. You watch as everyone around you gets pregnant with no trouble, you feel so so sad about their happiness, when all you want to do is be unconditionally happy for them. You feel like this whole damn process is never-ending. You're cynical. You find reasons why you're infertile - you're too fat, too ugly, too selfish.
I need to get back in a positive mindset before we start IVF #2 in a few weeks time. I don't want to be doubting whether it will work, I want to believe that it might. Surely our luck can only get better after the last dismal result, right? Anyway.. that is my goal. Get my faith back.
After nearly two months, ten days of progesterone tablets & a whole lot of impatience - we're finally back at CD1. It's a cruel game, this infertility business. You don't WANT to get a period, but at the same time, it's cause for celebration when the bloody thing decides to arrive.
Anyway. Back to scratch. We've had our mandatory rest period, and I'm hoping that we're all set to head towards IVF #2 in the next couple of months. No word yet on dates, but keep your fingers crossed for us. No matter what happens, I'll be on the birth control pill for the next month - boring, boring, boring.
(I wish my clinic did antagonist cycles. I want to just get on with things, not waste more time.)
Sometimes I feel like teaching is the worst possible job to be in when you're trying for a baby. Being surrounded by other people's children is always hard, on some days more than others. Caring so much for the welfare of somebody else's baby, feeling unappreciated for the efforts you make, and realising that you could be a good parent yourself one day.. it kind of stings. Lately I've been craving an office job, one where I could hide away for just a little while.
After 19 days of High on the Clearblue Fertility Monitor & a gradual fading OPK pattern... I'm done. A Low this morning & a blindingly white stick = yet another month of anovulation.
They say the months after IVF are your most fertile, thanks to the residual hormones & all that jazz. That's what they say. All I know is that even with a dose of Clomid to try and help things along, my reproductive organs have closed shop and refuse to budge.
I should've taken the Provera a week ago, when I had my first inklings of doubt. Instead, I waited. I waited, thinking I might have a nice surprise (albeit late) ovulation, and we'd get a shot at conceiving in June, the month of our wedding anniversary. Stupid me.
So, today is Day 1 of a 10 day meds cycle, to bring on AF. Now, I have at least a fortnight ahead of me, and then some, while we wait for AF and get this useless waiting period over.
I wish I had something positive to write about in terms of where we're at in the TTC-journey. It's CD22 and I'm still nowhere near ovulating (if I do at all) so despite using the OPK sticks & the Fertility Monitor regularly, things aren't working. This is with Clomid, too. Seriously - I must be the most unresponsive ovulator on the planet.
The main decision I have to make over the next week or so is when to bite the bullet & start taking Provera to bring on a period. I want this cycle over, which makes me think I should start taking it tomorrow. But at the same time, what if I'm just a couple of days away from potentially ovulating late? Super faint OPK's mean nothing in the grand scheme of things... but do I give it more time and see? I'm so over this. At least with IVF you have a good idea of your time-frames. I don't know.
In the meantime, how about a token puppy picture? Spencer has grown so much in a week - his stubby legs are starting to get bigger, he's eating more, and he's full of energy. He's also discovering that chewing & digging are FUN FUN FUN past times. (Not so fun for us!)
I feel like I don't have much to give in the way of blogging right now. These past few weeks have dragged on like crazy, and I am no closer to my next IVF cycle in any way, shape or form. As is usual for me, I've got no signs of ovulation whatsoever and I'm just so over this whole rubbish.
The pregnancy announcements are coming out of the woodwork right now, and I'm completely wrecked with each one. Every excited blog post, or text message, or facebook announcement, or forum post is just another dagger; it's just another reminder of everyone else so easily achieving what I can't. And when people who have been TTC for as long, or longer than me, announce their own pregnancies? I am happy... but I'm also devastated.
I am so tired of being on this side of the fence. I'm so tired of being positive and cheerful for everyone else, when I'm dying on the inside with every one. I'm sick of pretending to be okay when I see accidental pregnancies happen, when I hear people complain about their kids, when lucky ladies who only started trying in 2012 have already seen those two pink lines appear.
I feel numb.
Today is CD16 and I've got nothing to report. 9 days of Highs on the CBFM & not a positive OPK in sight. If I get no signs of ovulation by CD22 (the latest I ever O'ed on Clomid previously was CD21) I'm taking Provera and ending this whole, time-wasting cycle. Don't even get me started on the agony of doing another long down-regulation IVF, because it means that nothing is going to happen around these parts for a really long time. My womb is staying barren for a long while yet.
The only saving grace I have right now is Jase - and the fur babies. The kitties let me smother them in cuddles, and Spencer pup is a crazy happy ball of energy. They make my bad days that little bit better.
A big hello to everyone stopping by from ICLW {otherwise known as International Comment Leaving Week}
If you're new to these parts, here's our history. In short? We've been TTC for 17 months, and haven't even come close to falling pregnant. I have PCOS and anovulatory cycles & we've got some lovely male factors thrown in on top of that. Our fertility specialist gave us the option to do either IUI or IVF - but since we both have issues, we opted to head straight for IVF.
Our first round was unsuccessful & we got our BFN on Mothers Day - not a great day for it. I was on a low dose of FSH (due to my specialist being worried about hyper stimulating my cystic ovaries) and I only ended up with 10 follicles. At egg collection, only 5 were picked up. Out of those 5, only 3 were mature. 2 out of the 3 fertilised, and we had only one strong 8-cell embryo at Day 3, which we transferred.
We're current in an off-month, waiting for a few weeks to see if I have a natural period before we can try again for IVF #2. I'm praying that with a few adjustments, we might have more luck next time around.
And that's us, in a nutshell! :)
We got our Medicare Australia rebate back from our recent IVF cycle, and it has made me realise just how blessed we are to live in this country. Sure, it's got its faults - what country doesn't? But at least, for now, they give back a percentage of what we paid up front to help cover the costs of infertility treatment.
It doesn't make it okay, spending thousands of dollars per procedure (especially when it doesn't work) and it doesn't help to hear super fertiles tell you to 'just go again!' without thinking of the costs involved. I still find it ridiculously unfair that we should have to pay to make a baby, when it comes naturally to others. That part is hard to swallow, regardless of how much we're paying.
But our rebate is something - something more than what a lot of other countries provide. It breaks my heart that there are so many other infertiles out there who would love so desperately to take the step into IVF, but simply cannot afford to do it. So for today, even though I'm still hurting from the negative result and from the credit cards bills, I'll be happy about the small things & be grateful that I got the chance at all.
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