troof

it’s hard to understate how emotional this process has been for me in particular.  gregg seems to be taking this ivf stuff in stride, very practical, no tears.  the way he sees it, we’re fertile, there is this one simple mechanical problem that can be circumvented, and that’s that.  

the way i see it varies.  currently, i’m feeling sort of dark and conflicted.  i’m wondering if this situation has any meaning, and if it does, what is it? for gregg, there is no need to wonder what it means. but i can’t seem to help feeling alternately punished then lucky...i mean, is having children a blessing or a curse?  does being infertile mean i am less of a human? or superhuman? too good for parenting or not good enough? is this a test? am i supposed to take this as a hint from the universe? is this something i’m supposed to “overcome” or “battle through” to learn some sort of life lesson? what if moving forward will become the worst decision we have ever made? what if i don’t want an f’n life lesson!?! 

we’ve been heavily into battlestar gallactica, so of course, having this problem makes us feel like cylons.  can’t conceive without assistance from humans.  

we do not feel that parenting is the be all and end all of adult life.  so, yes, we do fantasize, sometimes a bit giddily, about never having to raise our own children.  we work with children 50 hours a week.  we see enough of them.  we laugh, we cry, we get horrified, amazed, outraged.  we’re glad to come home in the evenings and not have to deal with more children.  we might be a bit jaded about having children around.  i wonder what i would do if i never had children...and i’m not unhappy. 

if the above, then why do i continue in pursuit of this goal? well, i’ve got momentum for one thing. i’ve been trying to have a baby for years now. years.  it’s not exactly exciting anymore, it’s a habit.  i’m trying to get re-excited now that we have a plan, but it’s hard.  it’s hard because at the end of this plan, we still may not have a child in spite of intense effort and large expense.  or we may have twins.  or we may have twins born prematurely with severe developmental problems. or we could get pregnant and lose the baby.  okay, i guess my main emotion right now is not just darkness, it’s abject terror.  fear of a bad outcome.  not so much fear of failure, because i think that i can live without ever being a parent and 15 grand poorer...but fear of success. 

it’s definitely not an entitlement thing.  I’ve examined my thoughts on this enough to know that i don’t feel entitled to parenthood just because we’re middle class etc...

then there is this human imperative...to reproduce...at any cost...we’re acutely aware of this right now.   it’s probably the real and truest reason we’re proceeding with ivf.  

and then there’s the gregg’s an only child thing.  if gregg doesn’t reproduce, that’s it.  end of the line.  actually, come to think of it, i’m the only child of my parents.  

i know i will get beyond this.  i can’t wait to. making babies, no matter how it’s achieved, is a crap shoot. you just never know what the hell will happen. so there’s no point in worrying, as usual...and if anyone is wondering, yes, we are mandated to have therapy prior to ivf.  there is no question why...

testing

here are all of the tests i've experienced since last july:

too many blood tests to list, but all normal.

2 saline instilled sonograms, normal. 

a hysterosalpingogram, f'n painful, because my one open tube was too small.  i won't say more than that. 

exploratory laproscopy,  after which i apparently said to the anesthesiologist, "dude, you were meant to be an anesthesiologist because you're so mellow" in a voice and tone usually utilized by stoners.  ahem. everyone laughed though (i was told).  

clomiphene challenge test, normal. 

and gregg? 

1 semen analysis, normal. 

his experience is summed up here: "so you think the bathroom at your doctor's office is just a bathroom...and then you open the cabinet..." 

it's obvious on whom the physical burden lies in this situation.  it's annoying because i'm the one who is the patient and patient is not a fun role.  especially because i know how health care providers feel about patients.  but i think i've been a good one so far.  i only cried, like, twice in front of anyone.  i also bring cookies to the RE's office (not home made, because healthcare providers don't want anyone's home made food, trust me) because i want to cultivate a sense of sweetness and love with the people who will be responsible for creating our potential child. 

plus, i read once that if a patient is really nice, they sometimes give you a tour of the embryologist's lab, where the babies are made. 

team baby

we have had 2 docs and many nurses helping us out so far.  dr. A was, and i guess still is my gynie. nice guy, but we had to move on to dr. B, the reproductive endocrinologist (in web lingo: RE).  their surnames really do begin with the letters "a" and "b", by the way.  

dr. B is from Turkey and is very funny, just as i would expect from a person from a country named Turkey.  he told us at our consult that after 15 months of failing to conceive naturally, a couple has 0% chance of conceiving.  this was sobering, especially since we've been at it for 3 years. 0% is absolute and lonely.  

so far, i'm estimating that 23 people have been involved in our baby making thus far.  in the end, it will probably be around 33.  group sex indeed.

hello

why did the reproductive endocrinologist cross the road?
because there was an affluent, infertile woman in her early 30’s on the other side.

well, i thought it would be easy to get knocked up. i really did. i ovulated monthly (and still do), i was physically fit. mentally stable. high emotional iq. pretty good at several things. interior design. baking. reading. papercraft. knitting. gardening. yoga. kayaking. hiking. traveling, primary care pediatrics. i can tell you obscure facts about disease in infants. i’ve got a lovely house. lovely friends. gregg is the love of my life, hands down. i feel secure. i’ve worked out all the childhood stuff, mostly.

3 years ago, i was feeling ready to try my hand at parenting. i was ready and willing to grow a small human inside my very own body, name it and make it wear very neat little human clothes, some of which i might make myself. incredibly, gregg agreed to this idea. afterall, our exam rooms at the medical clinic where we work were (and still are) daily jam-packed with all manner of moron with varying definitions of good hygiene just having babies constantly. how hard could it be?

well, as it turns out, there’s one thing that the smelly people in my town can do that i cannot do: make and have babies. i can dress myself. they can have babies. i know what asparagus is. they can have babies. i’ve been outside of the state of florida. they can have babies.

after spending a few grand to figure it out, we’ve come to the conclusion that we can’t get pregnant without a team of doctors and a load of cash.  my fallopian tubes are too muscular and skinny to allow egg and sperm to meet let alone a ball of cells to survive the journey back to the uterus. to my uterus. so ivf it is. 

welcome to my blog. i have a few things to say about a few things relating to my fertility past, present and future. i hope it's not boring.

i have decided which of my pairs of socks will be my lucky fertility socks and here they are: