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!
Monday, May 28, 2012
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.
Friday, March 9, 2012
It's this Sunday
My first IUI - intrauterine insemination - will take place Sunday morning, after 9am. I have 3 gorgeous follicles getting ready for ovulation; a 19mm, an 18mm, and a 14mm. I think they're measured in mm. I have no idea, hahahaha! Those were the numbers the doctor used - a 19, an 18, and a 14. My uterus lining was a bit thin, so I've used Evamist, for estrogen, which will thicken my lining. I've taken Femara during days 3 to 7 of my cycle as well. Tonight, I'll give myself an hCG shot to trigger ovulation. 36 hours after tonight, I'll be ovulating and the IUI will be done. Hopefully I'll be one of the 20% of women who conceives with only one IUI. Hopefully. Oh, I had my tubes flushed and they were not obstructed or anything, so all looks good. Now they're extra clean - free way for those 13 million sperm to get things going! But I hope I don't get pregnant with triplets. Can you just imagine???
Nevertheless, If I get pregnant, I'll be puking with joy, and I shall never complain of back pain when my belly is round and heavy. I'll be the happiest pregnant woman on earth. I swear. Say a prayer for me if you follow this blog. Sunday morning, pacific time. I'll keep you posted!
Nevertheless, If I get pregnant, I'll be puking with joy, and I shall never complain of back pain when my belly is round and heavy. I'll be the happiest pregnant woman on earth. I swear. Say a prayer for me if you follow this blog. Sunday morning, pacific time. I'll keep you posted!
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Artificial Insemination
I haven't written for a while as things are really busy, but all our tests are done and it seems everything is fine with me. The sperm, on the other hand, is not great. It isn't bad, but it's not great. So my doctor suggested that we do an intrauterine insemination. The sperm will be "washed", getting rid of the 2/3 of sperm that are not mobile, and concentrating the 1/3 that is (approximately 13 million). Then that "sperm juice" will be shot inside me at the exact period of ovulation (I'll be monitored by ultrasound to determine the ovulation date). This way, we have a greater chance of getting pregnant. Besides that, I will also take Letrozole, which will increase even more my chances of conceiving.
So, according to my doctor, we are not really categorized as "infertility" per se. 13 million good sperm is more than enough (a good number is 10 million). What happens is the other 26 million sperm that are not mobile sort of get in the way of the good sperm. I would eventually get pregnant, but it could take another year.
Cost wise, we'll be spending 600 American dollars for the whole process, including the sperm wash, the office visit and ultrasound to determine my ovulation, the insemination itself, and Letrozol, which is very inexpensive. I'm taking Letrozole (brand name is Femara) and not Clomid because it seems Letrozole is actually better than Clomid. I will also need to have a shot to speed ovulation so the doctors know I'll ovulate in exactly 48 hours and then we can schedule the insemination.
It all sounds very artificial to me (of course, it is artificial insemination after all). Nevertheless, I have a friend who got pregnant taking Femara and her baby is smart and healthy. Hopefully that will be my case, too.
I may be also flushing my tubes to make sure there are no obstructions. That will be done before the insemination.
So last week was the last time we tried conceiving naturally. Part of me really, really hopes I am pregnant without any help, but if I'm not, now I know why. Then next month we will take action.
I've been slightly more anxious since this all happened, and I've also had nightmares. Nevertheless, I am hopeful it all works out. We have a budget for 3 months of artificial insemination, if necessary. It all adds up, and simply conceiving a baby may cost nearly 2 thousand dollars. A friend of mine told me that it is all worth it, because when I finally hold my baby, I'll forget all that is past.
Concerning my antidepressants, my psychiatrist and I have a plan. I'll continue taking Cymbalta in a lower dosage for the first 10 weeks of pregnancy, simply because if I suffer a miscarriage, I do not want to fall into deep depression. Once the first trimester is over, I'll slowly stop my meds and continue pregnancy without them. Depending on how I do, we may or may not put me immediately back on medication right after delivery. Hopefully I'll be able to breastfeed for a few months before I lack serotonin and cortisol. I'll keep you all posted!
So, according to my doctor, we are not really categorized as "infertility" per se. 13 million good sperm is more than enough (a good number is 10 million). What happens is the other 26 million sperm that are not mobile sort of get in the way of the good sperm. I would eventually get pregnant, but it could take another year.
Cost wise, we'll be spending 600 American dollars for the whole process, including the sperm wash, the office visit and ultrasound to determine my ovulation, the insemination itself, and Letrozol, which is very inexpensive. I'm taking Letrozole (brand name is Femara) and not Clomid because it seems Letrozole is actually better than Clomid. I will also need to have a shot to speed ovulation so the doctors know I'll ovulate in exactly 48 hours and then we can schedule the insemination.
It all sounds very artificial to me (of course, it is artificial insemination after all). Nevertheless, I have a friend who got pregnant taking Femara and her baby is smart and healthy. Hopefully that will be my case, too.
I may be also flushing my tubes to make sure there are no obstructions. That will be done before the insemination.
So last week was the last time we tried conceiving naturally. Part of me really, really hopes I am pregnant without any help, but if I'm not, now I know why. Then next month we will take action.
I've been slightly more anxious since this all happened, and I've also had nightmares. Nevertheless, I am hopeful it all works out. We have a budget for 3 months of artificial insemination, if necessary. It all adds up, and simply conceiving a baby may cost nearly 2 thousand dollars. A friend of mine told me that it is all worth it, because when I finally hold my baby, I'll forget all that is past.
Concerning my antidepressants, my psychiatrist and I have a plan. I'll continue taking Cymbalta in a lower dosage for the first 10 weeks of pregnancy, simply because if I suffer a miscarriage, I do not want to fall into deep depression. Once the first trimester is over, I'll slowly stop my meds and continue pregnancy without them. Depending on how I do, we may or may not put me immediately back on medication right after delivery. Hopefully I'll be able to breastfeed for a few months before I lack serotonin and cortisol. I'll keep you all posted!
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