Round #3 Here We Go!

Status: Round #3, FET #2 in progress! 

In fact, I'm on day 10 of the Lupron shot. So far, only one migraine! My tummy is bloated from the hormones and toughening up again, which makes trying to get a needle in painful and a little challenging (but the pain is brief). We are just waiting for my period to start (delayed by the lovely Lupron hormone) and then the blood work begins to check my estradiol levels. This will give us a better idea of when our transfer will happen. 

So that's where we are at. Overall, I'm in a good place. I'm super relaxed and hopeful. The hubby and I have had quite a challenging year..... consumed with this on-going process and job loss, but we always come out stronger and swinging. We contemplated delaying this procedure for a 'better' time, but when is that? As I've said before, my uterus isn't getting any younger. ;-)

In the meantime, as we wait, we are enjoying our summer and making the most of it. Within this last week alone, we've visited the wineries to celebrate our 6 year anniversary, have gone boating, kayaking, beaching, and off-roading. We've had visitors and met up with old friends. My face hurts from smiling so much and I'm absolutely exhausted....in a good way. 

So that's where we are at. 

Positive thoughts. 

:)

A Familiar Journey...

A beautiful post from Elisha (Waiting for Baby Bird): 

Infertility is More than Just the Inability to Conceive…

Posted in The Journey, Whispers of Hope

I am not sure if you are new to infertility or if you have been traveling this journey for months or even years.  But I think we can all agree that it is tough.  Really tough.  And when I began walking this road, I wasn’t prepared. Were you?  Because for me, I was naive.  I thought infertility was simply the inability to conceive after one year of actively trying. And rightfully so. Because isn’t that the definition? But ask me now?  Four years after leaving my doctor’s office numb and confused?  And then going through several failed treatment cycles and a miscarriage?  And I will quickly tell you that the definition Google search gave me years ago, is not even close to being accurate. And maybe you feel the same.  Because infertility, when you break it down, is so much more than just the inability to conceive…

Because I have learned it is also a series of losses that you are forced to grieve month after month. And it’s almost like a grave that keeps following you around as it grabs your hope and swallows, even buries more and more of your dreams with each failed cycle. It’s a fierce battle between your hope, your faith and your circumstances.  A battle you must fight to win every day. And a battle that is exhausting.

Infertility is letting your hopes soar for a few days or weeks, anticipating that surely this time, you will become parents.  But to only have your hopes plummet as you watch your dreams die with yet another negative pregnancy test.  It’s going from shock after seeing only one line.  To denial as you find yourself running throughout the house searching and squinting for the other.  All the while bargaining with God to make the impossible possible.  And it’s while bargaining with Him, you become angry as you realize that He can, yet He hasn’t.  And possibly won’t.  At least not this time.  It’s getting passed the feelings of anger and finding yourself depressed as you cry over the death of your dreams for that month.  And it’s only after hours or even days of mourning the loss of what you had hoped, that you start to accept that this month was once again not the one. And so then comes the daunting task of picking yourself back up and starting all over again.  Maybe with a little more hope or maybe not.  Either way, your exhausted but ready to fight.  Ready to chase after your dreams one.more.time.

It is watching your life be put on hold.  Or even pushed backwards.  It’s letting go of the plans you once had, for new ones that make you cringe.  And cause your stomach to be sick. It’s wondering if you have been cursed or deemed unworthy to be called mommy.  Or punished for some past sin.

Infertility is a disease.  Yes, a disease that often times makes you feel different.  Alone.  Insecure.  Embarrassed. Forgotten.  Broken.  And Overlooked.  It makes you avoid the ones you love and doubt the God you serve.  It suffocates your hope.  Weakens your faith.  And steals your joy.  It makes you feel helpless as there is little you can do to change your condition.  And if there is?  You have tried it.

It’s sadness and emptiness as you walk by the bedroom that should be a nursery.  It’s loneliness as your house is quiet and absent from the pitter patters of tiny feet in the morning or giggles from bath time at night.  It’s frustration that leads to desperation as you try every vitamin recommended, test suggested, treatment procedure offered, medicine given, and diet instructed.

Infertility is desperately longing to be pregnant. Wanting to know what it feels like to have a life growing inside of you. A life that has your eyes and his smile. A life that you created in love.  It’s dreaming of the day you are finally able to watch your husband’s face light up when he feels them kick for the first time. Or show off every ultrasound picture to even the sweet cashier at the local grocery store.  It’s wishing for the day you have a newborn lay on your chest as you frantically count their tiny fingers and wiggly toes. But it’s also worrying and being scared to death that this dream might never happen.

It’s breaking down and purchasing the blanket…that one soft blanket you absolutely fell in love with in the store. And it’s bringing it home and holding it up to your cheek while laying in bed and wondering.  Wondering if it will ever be used for something other than to soak up your tears every night.

Infertility is begging and pleading to God for Him to rescue you.  But through your tears and heartache, telling Him you will still love Him even if He doesn’t.  It’s convincing yourself every day with a lump in your throat that His plans are best.  His timing is perfect.  And that it will happen.  One day…you hope.  It’s not only saying that God is good, but that He is good to me despite my feelings and circumstances.  All while trying to understand why prostitutes, drug addicts and those who abuse their children are given such a blessing.  It’s biting your tongue when someone tells you “it must not be God’s will” or shaking your fists to the heavens after suffering a miscarriage. It’s frustrating.  It’s gut-wrenching…

And it’s more than just the inability to conceive. 
But sweet sister, can I just whisper hope into your ear today?  Can I encourage your heart for just a second?  Because the pain you feel? The tears you shed? The dead-end roads you have faced? And the dreams you have buried? They are all ingredients for the miracle you have been praying every night for.  I know…sounds crazy, right?  But if you hadn’t noticed? There is rarely ever a miracle without first the overwhelming pain of a problem.  A problem that is full of heartache and frustration that causes tears, sleepless nights, disappointments and intense grief.  So hold on. Don’t become too discouraged after another failed cycle.  Or allow fear to creep into your thoughts that you will never be a mother.  Instead, have hope.  Hope that things could change.  And then mix it with faith.  Faith to believe they will.  Because I can’t help but think your problem and my problem is simply creating the perfect breeding ground for a miracle.  A miracle that God has proven time and time again He can and will perform.

Baby Steps & Mother's Day

     This last week I hung streamers for a baby shower and actually attended for a few minutes. This is huge for me (baby steps as I've been told). My friend came over to me right away and hugged & thanked me for being there to support her. When I got home I opened the mail and found another baby shower invite. My hubby and I just shook our heads. You almost have to laugh. Almost. 

     All of our tests came back negative and we will be starting round three (FET #2) either June or July. My clinic told me to contact them when I start my period so we can get on the schedule. Well, nothing says you're not a mother (I get it already!) like starting your period on Mother's Day. So we will be figuring everything out tomorrow.

Oh, and I found this beautiful letter (below) a while ago and wanted to share. Last year my husband and I were honored when we were given the role as godparents. The baptism took place on Mother's Day and as much as we felt blessed to be a part of this special day, the church service gutted me. Mother's Day is a special day for many, and for others it's another day to remind them of what they're not. 

Dear Pastor,

Tone can be tricky in writing. Picture me popping my head in your office door, smiling and asking if we could talk for five minutes. I’m sipping on my diet coke as I sit down.

You know that I’m not one to shy away from speaking my mind, part of the reason you love me (mostly!), so I’m guessing that internally you brace yourself wondering what might be next.

I set my can down and this is what I’d say.

A few years ago I sat across from a woman who told me she doesn’t go to church on Mother’s Day because it is too hurtful.  I’m not a mother, but I had never seen the day as hurtful. She had been married, had numerous miscarriages, divorced and was beyond child bearing years. It was like salt in mostly healed wounds to go to church on that day. This made me sad, but I understood.

Fast forward several years to Mother’s Day.  A pastor asked all mothers to stand. On my immediate right, my mother stood and on my immediate left, a dear friend stood. I, a woman in her late 30s, sat. I don’t know how others saw me, but I felt dehumanized, gutted as a woman. Real women stood, empty shells sat. I do not normally feel this way. I do not like feeling this way. I want no woman to ever feel this way in church again.

Last year a friend from the States happened to visit on Mother’s Day and again the pastor (a different one) asked all mothers to stand. As a mother, she stood and I whispered to her, “I can’t take it, I’m standing.” She knows I’m not a mother yet she understood my standing / lie.

Here’s the thing, I believe we can honor mothers without alienating others. I want women to feel welcome, appreciated, seen, and needed here in our little neck of the body of Christ.

1. Do away with the standing. You mean well, but it’s just awkward. Does the woman who had a miscarriage stand? Does the mom whose children ran away stand? Does the single woman who is pregnant stand? A.w.k.w.a.r.d.

2.  Acknowledge the wide continuum of mothering.

To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you

To those who lost a child this year – we mourn with you

To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you

To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you

To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.

To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms – we need you

To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you

To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you

To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you

To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience

To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst

To those who have aborted children – we remember them and you on this day

To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children – we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be

To those who step-parent – we walk with you on these complex paths

To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren -yet that dream is not to be, we grieve with you

To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you

To those who placed children up for adoption — we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart

And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you

This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.

I’ve created a PDF of The Wide Spectrum of Mothering 

3. Commend mothering for the ways it reflects the Imago Dei (Image of God) by bringing forth new life, nurturing those on her path, and living with the tension of providing both freedom and a safety net.

I know I might be an unusual one to be speaking about Mother’s Day; but maybe that’s why so many talk to me about mothering, I’ve got the parts, just not the goods.  Thanks for listening and for continuing to mother us in a shepherding way. Even though I’m a bit nervous to come on Sunday, I will be here. But if you make us stand, I might just walk out =).

Warmly and in your corner,

Amy

A Little Update

A good friend and colleague recently came to me with tears in his eyes. He shared that he and his wife were expecting. I knew it even before he said it. He apologized and said that he would be more sensitive than others have been. I gave him a hug, congratulated him, and then bawled my eyes out. I sincerely appreciate that he came and told me in person. It really meant a lot to me. Over the last few years, I've been told in some crappy ways from people who knew of our struggle; from others, the last to know and even in a text message from my best friend at the time (who had cried to me when a good friend had done the same to her). All is forgiven and I have moved on, but I can't tell you enough how much it meant to me that he came to tell me in person.

How to cope? Some days are easy; I am able to accept whatever comes (or doesn't come our way). I know that we are great at being DINKs (double income, no kids) . I love doing what I want, when I want.... and I especially love the idea of going on more vacations every year. Then some days are just hard. I'm at that age where everyone is either pregnant or has kids. So what do they talk about? You catch my drift. So what do I avoid? The teacher's lounge, of course. And days when I'm feeling brave and venture into the lounge to eat my lunch, I walk in on it. Delivery stories, tummy rubs, and more baby and kid talk. It's exhausting....but it IS getting easier.

The hubby and I are truly making the best of our situation. The last month alone we've had a blast with our amazing friends and family doing some pretty fun and extraordinary things. We are truly blessed. Speaking of blessings- the hubby's test results? We completely forgot that he already had the chromosome testing done last July and the results were negative. The rest of my blood results also came back negative as well....so in 2 weeks I will be venturing to our clinic for additional testing. If all is well, we've decided that we are going to go ahead with round 3 in June or July. We're not ready to throw in the towel just yet.

In the meantime, we're enjoying this much needed break and just enjoying life in general.

All is well. :-) 

Round 3?

Last week the hubby and I ventured down state to our clinic for our post-op. We had a list (once again) of questions to ask. Our doctor said that she was a little surprised that this round didn't work..... she said it was a little unusual for someone our age and with our quality of embryos. Hearing that didn't make us feel all too great.

Two weeks ago I also had 12 vials of blood taken to see if perhaps I have a blood clotting disorder. Only half of those tests have come back, and so far, they are all negative. So here we are again, scratching our heads and with more questions than answers. Our doctor said that we could proceed with round 3 when we are ready and to possibly consider transferring our remaining three embryos. I don't know how I feel about that quite yet, but I do know that round 3 will be our last round.....for a variety of reasons. She also mentioned that if round 3 doesn't work, that we could have genetic testing done to check out our chromosomes. The hubby and I looked at each other, like why should we wait for another loss? We'd rather know now rather than later. If there is something wrong that could potentially harm our baby (if I were able to actually carry), I cannot and would not proceed with this process any further. We both agreed that we are not that greedy or selfish. The doctor gave us the okay, so the hubby will drive down to the clinic on Tuesday. It's $100 per person and at this point, what's a couple hundred more bucks for peace of mind?

It Worked..... And Then It Didn't.

My hubby has been pushing me to update this. So here we go....

It worked! And then it didn't........

The few days before my blood test, I was feeling pretty positive. My sniffer smelled anything and everything. I would walk down the hall and could smell the mint soap bar my husband was using in the shower and at work I would try not to gag when my students would eat maple syrup bars or even speak to me (of course we then had to have a talk on the importance of personal hygiene). I even caved and took a digital pregnancy test the night before our beta. It said, "not pregnant" but when I ripped apart the device (couldn't help myself), I saw a faint line and the hubby did too. Overall, besides my sniffer, I didn't feel pregnant and I took that as a good sign (read my last post below for further explanation).

So the next morning I went and had my blood drawn and our beta was 12. My nurse said that although it was low, we were testing a day earlier due to the weekend and to not stress about the number. So of course the hubby and I were beyond ecstatic. I updated my (private) Pinterest boards- pretty much planned out my baby shower. The hubby made up a fun announcement post card, researched baby strollers, and even pulled out a baby book he bought us three years ago when we first began trying. Over the weekend I watched him read this book and it melted my heart.

But as my grandma would say..... We counted our chickens before they hatched. We were too excited, too confident. So imagine our shock and disappointment when my fertility nurse called four days later to tell me that our beta had dropped to 1.6. Of course,  I got the word at work and kept my shit together as best as I could. I made it through the day, got in my car and lost it. When I got home, my hubby met me at the door, gave me a hug, and told me he had the candles going in the bathroom for a hot bath (that always relaxes me). He sat next to me on the floor and told me, "We're in this together. "

I know that I am blessed with an amazing hubby and an amazing life, but the great question you can't help but ask is why? Why didn't this work? Why are we being tested? Why can't we have it easier like others? Why do we have to go through this? Why?  My actual doctor called me the same day and told me that she was sorry about my biochemical pregnancy. She then proceeded to tell me that she wants me to have further blood tests to see if perhaps I have a blood clotting disorder that is preventing a viable pregnancy. So of course I consulted Google and of course, I shouldn't have. What I read was not promising. At. All.

So this is where we are at. We are going to get my blood drawn soon pending this wonderful winter storm we are currently experiencing.  Overall, I feel okay. Part of me feels relief that this is over. This  process has been ongoing since August. Surgeries, taking shots, taking pills, blood draws, doctor appointments, long drives.... It's been a part time job itself and I need a break. Mentally and physically I need a break. Financially, we need to pay off our credit card. We. Iz. Broke.

It feels good to wake up on my own instead of by an alarm clock telling me its shot time. It feels good to have our counter clean of needles, medicine, and alcohol pads. It feels good to breathe again. My sister recently posted a picture of us from a family vacation. In this picture I had what a friend would call a large bass smile, nothing but pearly whites and radiating nothing but happiness. My first thought was; I miss that person, I haven't seen her in a while. Don't get me wrong, my hubby and I have tried our best to maintain a normal, fun life. We weren't going to let this process stop us from living our lives and we haven't. What I see on my face from that picture is freedom. I look care-free and content. I'm ready to be that person again.

I don't know what our next steps are. I think a lot of it will depend on my blood test results, but overall I want and need a long break. We still have 3 embryos left, but the thought of going through this again....I can and would do it....just not now. I also keep thinking about what our lives would be like without kids altogether. The hubby said we would travel and still live our lives to the fullest, and I don't doubt that. I just can't wrap my mind around anything right now, and I guess that's okay because really I don't need to have it all figured out right now.

A New Morning Routine

A new morning routine has been established and it goes like this;

6:15 am - Heating pad on my cheeks
6:20 am- Ice my behind
6:25 am- Shot time!
6:30 am - 5 minute massage from the hubby w/heating pad.

Seriously, I feel great! The sesame seed OIP shot is so much better and with the above routine, I'm not in pain! I only have two small knots left in my muscles, so we are making progress. The hubby keeps asking me if I feel pregnant and I keep telling him no because I hate to get his hopes up. When we were trying on our own, I would imagine every symptom under the sun (wishful thinking perhaps), but we'd only end up disappointed. So currently I'm trying not to read too much into my body aches and such, or to think in general. ;-)

So far, so good.