On June 11 at 4:40 am I tested for pregnancy and got another negative result. Three IUIs. Three Big Fat Negatives (BFN). Well, one can only imagine what this does to a person who suffers from depression. Believe it or not, I didn't cry. I just felt bitter.
So this cycle I'm taking a break from all the "fertility crap" (pardon my French), drugs, ultrasounds and bills. We spent 4 thousand dollars. I continue with the gluten-free, dairy-free, red-meat free diet that helps calm down an overactive immune system. I got my act together, talked to an acquaintance who offered to help me (she herself suffered from infertility and has a success story, in spite of a plethora of issues (from polycistic ovarian syndrome to endometriosis, autoimmune disease and sperm abnormality).
I scheduled a urologist appointment for my husband, a post-coital exam for myself, plus a primary care physician appointment so that I can ask my doctor to request some blood work, mainly to check for T natural killer cells (which could be killing the sperm and/or fertilized egg). I also bought a fertility monitor my this acquaintance recommended. It is called Clearblue Fertility Monitor and it does cost some couple hundred bucks. She says it will be the best 200 dollars I've ever spent, so I'll go for it!
Now the second opinion we're looking for. My friend recommended this reproductive endocrinologist. I called, registered, scheduled an appointment. The I asked how much the visit would cost. Why, oh why? 600 dollars. I understand it is a one hour visit, but still... 600? They give a 30% discount if we pay upfront. I understand any discounts are welcome, but still... Just to hear a second opinion?
I'm not sure when I'll be ready to do more IUIs. I know we have only tried 3 times, and we would have higher chances if we tried 3 more... Nevertheless, I would like to make sure there isnt any hidden issue with my body, immune system, etc. It would also be great to hear from the urologist that my husband's speem is just fine. If not, what can we do to change it. Acupuncture is also on my list of "to dos". I'm just waiting to see what our future exams turn up with.
The past few days have been tough. I have to admit Facebook can be daunting, painful, a total disaster when it comes to keeping myself together. There are always people announcing a pregnancy, or complaining about pregnancy issues (poor them, baby is pushing against their ribs! Or maternity leave in this country is so not fair. I'd give up a kidney to be pregnant). I've thought of deactivating my account. Then I thought of not logging in for a whole week. Unfortunately, I know that is not the solution. I get a lot of news from my family through Facebook. They're all overseas thousands and thousands of miles and several time zones away from me. Catching up with my immediate family, plus uncles, aunts, and cousins is so much easier on FB. I'm not giving that up just because that bragging little lady decided to let everyone know she has 2 hearts beating inside of her-hers and the baby. Anyways... That little "hide" button shall do the trick.
I've realized I've become this bitter woman wo resents other people's happiness. This is definitely not who I want to be. I am very happy for this other friend of mine who's pregnant as well. She's 6 months ahead, so her belly is really showing. I think I'm much better after the babies are born. It's the thing about being pregnant that kills me, because I wanted it soooo bad. I've dreamed of it, and imagined myself, my round belly, my giving birth. My children, oh, how previous they'll be. How pretious.
I had an appointment with my psychiatrist today and I broke down in tears. My medication is working. Anxiety attacks are a thing from the past. I feel fine. But boy, is infertility tough? It's the hardest thing I've ever experienced, even more than depression, because everyone thinks they are experts about it. Oh, getting knocked up? Sure, we know how to do it! Take a vacation and you'll come back pregnant! Adopt! Why don't you adopt? Haven't you heard the stories of people who adopt and then get pregnant? Wy don't you do IVF? Didn't you hear Betty got pregnant with twins in her first IVF cycle???
I wish I had a coping machine. An actual device I could attach to myself whenever I felt things were getting too hard to bear. I guess I'll just have to do without it.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Cooking Therapy
Spinach quinoa risotto, with plenty of smoked paprika. Olive oil and
garlic stir fried brocolette. Grilled peppery asparagus. Tomatoes with
fresh basil vinaigrette. I cook and cook and cook, and stir and stir and
stir, but this lump in my throat doesn't go away.
How did I get here? Third IUI since February. Hormones, shots, sprays, suppositories. Ultrasounds and more ultrasounds. And bills. And crying. And freaking out. And there's nothing freaking wrong with me.
I cook because food makes me happy, but now I'm on this gluten-free, dairy-free, egg and red meat free diet. Just in case my immune system is killing the sperm, or the fertilized egg way before I know I'm pregnant.
I gave up cheese, and milk, and coffee, and wheat. I gave up quiches and omelets. I think I'd give up a kidney, too, if that made me pregnant. I'd give up meat forever. I would.
I cook for my husband, mostly because I love him and I don't want this fertility thing to get between us. Sometimes I resent him. He complained fertility was all I was talking about. He complained about the bills. He complained about my doctors. He wants a second opinion. The other doctor confirmed the results: low motility count. IUI is the way to go. First with Femara. Then injectables. He complained injectables + ultrasounds are too expensive. I suggested acupuncture. He doesn't believe in acupuncture.
At times it seems I am the only one doing all the work. Sometimes I acknowledge it is not his fault. So I cook. I stir, and I grill, and I bake gluten and dairy free brownies with egg replacer and all.
Why doesn't this lump in my throat go away? Why aren't I hopeful? I want to give up. I want to take a vacation. I want to be okay with the fact that a lot of women I know are pregnant while I am childless.
I want to make more gluten and dairy and egg free brownies and have them with raspberries. And be genuinely happy for the 15 minutes it will take me to finish eating them.
How did I get here? Third IUI since February. Hormones, shots, sprays, suppositories. Ultrasounds and more ultrasounds. And bills. And crying. And freaking out. And there's nothing freaking wrong with me.
I cook because food makes me happy, but now I'm on this gluten-free, dairy-free, egg and red meat free diet. Just in case my immune system is killing the sperm, or the fertilized egg way before I know I'm pregnant.
I gave up cheese, and milk, and coffee, and wheat. I gave up quiches and omelets. I think I'd give up a kidney, too, if that made me pregnant. I'd give up meat forever. I would.
I cook for my husband, mostly because I love him and I don't want this fertility thing to get between us. Sometimes I resent him. He complained fertility was all I was talking about. He complained about the bills. He complained about my doctors. He wants a second opinion. The other doctor confirmed the results: low motility count. IUI is the way to go. First with Femara. Then injectables. He complained injectables + ultrasounds are too expensive. I suggested acupuncture. He doesn't believe in acupuncture.
At times it seems I am the only one doing all the work. Sometimes I acknowledge it is not his fault. So I cook. I stir, and I grill, and I bake gluten and dairy free brownies with egg replacer and all.
Why doesn't this lump in my throat go away? Why aren't I hopeful? I want to give up. I want to take a vacation. I want to be okay with the fact that a lot of women I know are pregnant while I am childless.
I want to make more gluten and dairy and egg free brownies and have them with raspberries. And be genuinely happy for the 15 minutes it will take me to finish eating them.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Laughing IS Conceivable
I found this funny blog by former stand-up comedian Lori Shandle-Fox while searching for infertility support online. I laughed so much. It helped me ease off the stress of the past few days. She's also written a book, Laughing IS Conceivable, which is available on Amazon, both e-reader and hard copy versions.
Back to my fertility routine, I had my third IUI done this morning around 11am. Four follicles, two in each ovary. Now the waiting game. 2 weeks until pregnancy test. If positive, call office and schedule ultrasound. If negative, stop progesterone suppositories, wait for period to start, and call office to schedule ultrasound. I don't think I'll ever have so many ultrasounds done in my life. Meanwhile, happy memorial day!
Back to my fertility routine, I had my third IUI done this morning around 11am. Four follicles, two in each ovary. Now the waiting game. 2 weeks until pregnancy test. If positive, call office and schedule ultrasound. If negative, stop progesterone suppositories, wait for period to start, and call office to schedule ultrasound. I don't think I'll ever have so many ultrasounds done in my life. Meanwhile, happy memorial day!
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Life Is Beautiful
I didn't sleep well last night. I had gone to bed upset about this whole fertility treatment. As the bills started to arrive, discrepancies between the prices I was told I would be charged for the IUI and ultrasounds and what I was actually being charged produced a huge amount of stress both in me and in my husband. This morning I was scheduled to have an ultrasound and husband came along so that we could discuss exactly how much each procedure cost. I had already spent part of my morning on the phone with insurance, doctor's office, my husband, and the doctor's billing office. By the time we got to the ultrasound, at 11am, I lost it.
A constant flow of tears bathed my face and impaired my ability to utter any understandable words. When I could finally speak, I said things impulsively and felt the reproving eyes of my husband sitting on me. I decided I was going to let him speak when the doctor came in. As any cautious, practical, and rational man, my husband was angry that we were told each cycle would cost around $600, but we were actually being charged close to $1200. The medical assistant told us they offered a 30% discount if we paid up front. Nobody told us that before. She then said she would call the billing office and have our $2500 bill reduced by 30%, and all the following bills done the same way. Mind you we had already paid $539 to my doctor the previous week, and that $2500 bill doesn't include any of the sperm washes, which cost $275, or the first IUI we did back in April, which costs $250. To top it off, when I had the tubal flushing done back in March, I was told it cost $800, and both the doctor's office and myself called insurance and were told it would be covered. Yesterday I found out the tubal flushing wasn't covered - and it actually costs $1500 (part of the $2500 bill).
The doctor who saw me today isn't my main doctor. She was very nice and understanding, and she explained to us what our situation and chances are. My husband's sperm is borderline low when it comes to motility, so IUIs do double our chances of conceiving. On the other hand, statistically speaking, chances of getting pregnant with an IUI amount to 20% only. I'm on my 4th cycle of Femara and going towards my third IUI (we missed our first cycle of IUI because of daylight savings time, remember?). We decided we will do 2 more cycles, totalizing 6 of medication and 5 IUIs. If I do not get pregnant after 6 cycles of Femara, this formula is clearly not working and the next step would be to move on to injectable medications that trigger more eggs per cycle and quadruple our chances of conceiving. These meds may cost up to $1000/cycle, and require extra monitoring - 4 to 5 ultrasounds. So we're looking at $1000 for meds, $900 for ultrasounds, $250 for the IUI and $275 for the sperm wash. If we do that for a couple cycles, plus all we will have spent with the 5 IUIs, we will have spent enough to have paid for an IVF. My husband understandably doesn't want to go that route.
Tonight I told my husband I loved him, even if we never end up having our own children. I know I'll be a mother, that's for sure. My own child or not, I'm getting a baby. We can't adopt in America because we are not citizens, but we will move back to my country and if I haven't gotten pregnant by then, I will adopt. After barely a year of trying to conceive, I've come to the realization I better not try to take the IVF path. I haven't got the nerves for that. Twenty thousand dollars and no guarantees? Depression and anxiety do not got with that.
I have 4 follicles this cycle. Two in each ovary. My lining is a bit thin, though, in spite of my using Evamist for the past 5 days. Tomorrow I'll do the HCG shot (hey, I'm a pro when it comes to sticking a needle in my tummy now!), and on memorial day Monday we'll have our third IUI.
Perhaps I never mentioned it here, but I see young children (including babies) on a daily basis. I am patient, caring, loving, firm, and all the other attributes that make a great mother/caregiver. I can make babies fall asleep in a blink. Toddlers love me. Preschoolers adore me. I used to teach K and pre K English back in Brazil. People would say I'm a natural. A baby whisperer. Someone born to be a mother. Fit for the job. Capable. And now wanting it so bad. One of my main doctors, upon seeing me so sad a week ago because I wasn't pregnant, told me not to be too beat up about it because these things take time. He told me I am young and healthy, thus I have time. I'm 31 years old. I'm 5'9 and weigh 135lbs. I don't drink, smoke or do drugs. I exercise, engage in social activities and have been happily married for the past 5 years. So I guess this doctor is right. I am truly blessed, and I have time.
So why does it hurt so much? Why do I feel loss? And grief? And hopelessness? Why does the sunshine doesn't seem to bring me joy? And why, oh why do I have to feel so depressed every time I see a pregnant woman? Why don't I wait in God and let Him take away my worries and cares? Why so much suffering?
Catherine Howard, king Henry VIII's fifth wife, said "life is beautiful" right before she was beheaded. I saw it on season 4 of 'The Tudors", so it may be fictional, but it struck me. Life is Beautiful, and time is unrecoupable. It is the most unrecoupable of all things (also part of Henry VIII's speech on "The Tudors" season 4). That is what makes life so precious, because what has been lived can never be lived again; Time spent is always lost, gone, vanished. We are born merely to grow old and die, destiny of all living things. Our youth is short. Who can blame Henry VIII for wanting so bad to secure a male heir? Of course his daughter Elizabeth did just as well as any other king; nevertheless, this longing for an offspring is perhaps our way of securing our posterity. Part of us survive with the ones we gave life too, and their children, and their children's children, and so on. Children bring so much joy, oh, so much joy. Who can blame me for wanting that?
A constant flow of tears bathed my face and impaired my ability to utter any understandable words. When I could finally speak, I said things impulsively and felt the reproving eyes of my husband sitting on me. I decided I was going to let him speak when the doctor came in. As any cautious, practical, and rational man, my husband was angry that we were told each cycle would cost around $600, but we were actually being charged close to $1200. The medical assistant told us they offered a 30% discount if we paid up front. Nobody told us that before. She then said she would call the billing office and have our $2500 bill reduced by 30%, and all the following bills done the same way. Mind you we had already paid $539 to my doctor the previous week, and that $2500 bill doesn't include any of the sperm washes, which cost $275, or the first IUI we did back in April, which costs $250. To top it off, when I had the tubal flushing done back in March, I was told it cost $800, and both the doctor's office and myself called insurance and were told it would be covered. Yesterday I found out the tubal flushing wasn't covered - and it actually costs $1500 (part of the $2500 bill).
The doctor who saw me today isn't my main doctor. She was very nice and understanding, and she explained to us what our situation and chances are. My husband's sperm is borderline low when it comes to motility, so IUIs do double our chances of conceiving. On the other hand, statistically speaking, chances of getting pregnant with an IUI amount to 20% only. I'm on my 4th cycle of Femara and going towards my third IUI (we missed our first cycle of IUI because of daylight savings time, remember?). We decided we will do 2 more cycles, totalizing 6 of medication and 5 IUIs. If I do not get pregnant after 6 cycles of Femara, this formula is clearly not working and the next step would be to move on to injectable medications that trigger more eggs per cycle and quadruple our chances of conceiving. These meds may cost up to $1000/cycle, and require extra monitoring - 4 to 5 ultrasounds. So we're looking at $1000 for meds, $900 for ultrasounds, $250 for the IUI and $275 for the sperm wash. If we do that for a couple cycles, plus all we will have spent with the 5 IUIs, we will have spent enough to have paid for an IVF. My husband understandably doesn't want to go that route.
Tonight I told my husband I loved him, even if we never end up having our own children. I know I'll be a mother, that's for sure. My own child or not, I'm getting a baby. We can't adopt in America because we are not citizens, but we will move back to my country and if I haven't gotten pregnant by then, I will adopt. After barely a year of trying to conceive, I've come to the realization I better not try to take the IVF path. I haven't got the nerves for that. Twenty thousand dollars and no guarantees? Depression and anxiety do not got with that.
I have 4 follicles this cycle. Two in each ovary. My lining is a bit thin, though, in spite of my using Evamist for the past 5 days. Tomorrow I'll do the HCG shot (hey, I'm a pro when it comes to sticking a needle in my tummy now!), and on memorial day Monday we'll have our third IUI.
Perhaps I never mentioned it here, but I see young children (including babies) on a daily basis. I am patient, caring, loving, firm, and all the other attributes that make a great mother/caregiver. I can make babies fall asleep in a blink. Toddlers love me. Preschoolers adore me. I used to teach K and pre K English back in Brazil. People would say I'm a natural. A baby whisperer. Someone born to be a mother. Fit for the job. Capable. And now wanting it so bad. One of my main doctors, upon seeing me so sad a week ago because I wasn't pregnant, told me not to be too beat up about it because these things take time. He told me I am young and healthy, thus I have time. I'm 31 years old. I'm 5'9 and weigh 135lbs. I don't drink, smoke or do drugs. I exercise, engage in social activities and have been happily married for the past 5 years. So I guess this doctor is right. I am truly blessed, and I have time.
So why does it hurt so much? Why do I feel loss? And grief? And hopelessness? Why does the sunshine doesn't seem to bring me joy? And why, oh why do I have to feel so depressed every time I see a pregnant woman? Why don't I wait in God and let Him take away my worries and cares? Why so much suffering?
Catherine Howard, king Henry VIII's fifth wife, said "life is beautiful" right before she was beheaded. I saw it on season 4 of 'The Tudors", so it may be fictional, but it struck me. Life is Beautiful, and time is unrecoupable. It is the most unrecoupable of all things (also part of Henry VIII's speech on "The Tudors" season 4). That is what makes life so precious, because what has been lived can never be lived again; Time spent is always lost, gone, vanished. We are born merely to grow old and die, destiny of all living things. Our youth is short. Who can blame Henry VIII for wanting so bad to secure a male heir? Of course his daughter Elizabeth did just as well as any other king; nevertheless, this longing for an offspring is perhaps our way of securing our posterity. Part of us survive with the ones we gave life too, and their children, and their children's children, and so on. Children bring so much joy, oh, so much joy. Who can blame me for wanting that?
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
As I Suspected
Spotting started this late afternoon. I cried a bit more at the doctor's - I had my monthly visit with my psychiatrist today. I'm going for an ultrasound this Thursday to make sure my ovaries are quiet so that I can start Femara again. IUI #3 here we go...
Monday, May 14, 2012
Persistence Pays off, or doesn't it?
Last month's IUI didn't result in pregnancy. Instead, I had spotting from day 23 of my cycle until the progesterone suppositories couldn't hold it anymore and my period came, one day before I was supposed to test for pregnancy.
So this month our second IUI was on May 2. Everything looked great. My husband's numbers were great, my numbers were great, my uterus lining was "fabulous", and I even had some spotting 5 days after the procedure. Could it be a sign of implantation? Then, a few days ago, I started having cramps and some pain on my lower back similar to when I'm about to get my period. I've been testing and, so far, it's negative. Not even a faint line. I'm supposed to test this Wednesday, 2 weeks after the IUI, but I think I already know the result: not pregnant.
Saturday morning, as I drove to church, I sobbed bitterly, in the safe refuge of my car. I hadn't cried that hard for a long time. My antidepressant is working wonderfully, so I feel pretty well, but the pain of not being pregnant AGAIN was too strong this time.
Some may say I'm suffering in advance, after all, there are still 2 days to go, but sometimes you can just feel it, and as much as I want to be pregnant, I don't want to build up my expectations over negative tests and cramps from the past 3 days. It is clearly not happening this cycle.
So in my mind I know we have to be persistent, we have to be patient and move forward. My husband always says persistence pays off. I so want to believe that. Today, though, I wish I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm sad, discouraged, frustrated, tired. I need a best friend's hug, a good cry, a reason for hope. I need to hear from someone with authority that it IS going to happen, and happen soon. I just need to be patient - and persistent - and it will pay off someday. My question is: when? And can I endure the wait?
Saturday, April 7, 2012
The Journey Without an End
I'm threading this path and it seems there is no end, and I'm alone, at times, alone in my longing, in my dream of becoming a mother.
The IUI did not happen last month. It is tragic and comic that we missed the very strict laboratory hours due to day light savings time. It was a Sunday morning, March 11. The lab would be open only from 8 to 8:30. We woke up thinking it was 7am, but it was actually 8. We got to the lab at what we thought was 7:50am, but... Yes, the lab was closed.
I called the doctor sobbing, begging her to find another laboratory, another way. She tried her best, but no luck. She told me to go home and try on our own to conceive. So knows? Maybe it would still happen.
It didn't. I didn't cry when the pregnancy test revealed I was not pregnant, 2 weeks after our failed IUI attempt. I didn't cry, but it hurt. Silent punches on my face. Not pregnant again.
Today, a cycle later, things worked better. We didn't miss the lab hours. The specimen was collected, and I patiently await for the sperm wash to be completed while I type these words on my iPad. I have 2 follicles on my right ovary. Two hopes of starting a family. If not, next month. There is always next month. Why does this journey seem to be endless? I don't know. Sometimes I fear the path ahead. Sometimes I'm sure everything will be all right. Sometimes I do not think; I stand still in time and history, as if it were possible to do so. I stop my existence and remain in limbo, waiting for the day I am blessed with the joy of motherhood.
I know, I am not still. I am religiously taking the hormones I am told to take: the medication that makes me release extra eggs, the spray of estrogen that guarantees my lining is thick enough to support the embryo's implantation, the injection on my belly that makes me ovulate precisely after 36 hours, making this IUI more of an exact science, the vaginal suppositories of progesterone that help keep the embryo in, in case of pregnancy. I feel I'm being prepped and pumped like fat cattle ready for slaughter. I've gained a few pounds, more than I wished to. I feel my anxiety has turned from nausea to compulsive eating, at times. I fear the results of so many drugs in my system. Mind you, I do not have any fertility problems myself. Yet, the fact that I am healthy and fertile but need all the extra help makes me bitter sometimes. Not much, just a tiny little bit of anger. I love my husband, and it isn't his fault if his sperm count isn't great. It isn't my fault either. I tell myself I'll do whatever it takes. And if it means taking Femara, Evamist, hCG, Prometrium, well, so be it. I'll worry about breast cancer later. Or will I? Next step takes place soon. Soon after I finish typing these words, put away my computer, get into the car and drive to the laboratory, and then to the medical office where I may hopefully get pregnant with my very first intrauterine insemination. Wish me luck.
Today, a cycle later, things worked better. We didn't miss the lab hours. The specimen was collected, and I patiently await for the sperm wash to be completed while I type these words on my iPad. I have 2 follicles on my right ovary. Two hopes of starting a family. If not, next month. There is always next month. Why does this journey seem to be endless? I don't know. Sometimes I fear the path ahead. Sometimes I'm sure everything will be all right. Sometimes I do not think; I stand still in time and history, as if it were possible to do so. I stop my existence and remain in limbo, waiting for the day I am blessed with the joy of motherhood.
I know, I am not still. I am religiously taking the hormones I am told to take: the medication that makes me release extra eggs, the spray of estrogen that guarantees my lining is thick enough to support the embryo's implantation, the injection on my belly that makes me ovulate precisely after 36 hours, making this IUI more of an exact science, the vaginal suppositories of progesterone that help keep the embryo in, in case of pregnancy. I feel I'm being prepped and pumped like fat cattle ready for slaughter. I've gained a few pounds, more than I wished to. I feel my anxiety has turned from nausea to compulsive eating, at times. I fear the results of so many drugs in my system. Mind you, I do not have any fertility problems myself. Yet, the fact that I am healthy and fertile but need all the extra help makes me bitter sometimes. Not much, just a tiny little bit of anger. I love my husband, and it isn't his fault if his sperm count isn't great. It isn't my fault either. I tell myself I'll do whatever it takes. And if it means taking Femara, Evamist, hCG, Prometrium, well, so be it. I'll worry about breast cancer later. Or will I? Next step takes place soon. Soon after I finish typing these words, put away my computer, get into the car and drive to the laboratory, and then to the medical office where I may hopefully get pregnant with my very first intrauterine insemination. Wish me luck.
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