These are words that would NEVER have crossed my lips before trying to have a baby.
I used to have serious needle-phobia. I mean I was TERRIFIED of them. When I was a kid, I worried for DAYS when I knew I had a doctor's appointment coming. I once had a pretty badly infected spider bite that needed draining. My doctor wanted to numb it before cutting it open and squeezing the puss out. Barf. After explaining this to me, it took two nurses and my mother to hold me down while they did the procedure. Summer after my freshman year in college, a friend was exposed to Hepatitis (the restaurant and toilet seat kind, not the STD) so the four of us who worked closely with her had to get vaccinated just to be safe. I was so pissed at her. FURIOUS. Summer before my senior year in college I took classes at UC Davis and had a weird skin rash. The doctor wanted to do a blood test. I sat in the waiting area SOBBING because I was alone and so scared. I also left the building two times and almost got in my car and just drove away because I was by myself and no one could stop me (I didn't actually leave by the way. I hiked up my skirt and did the blood test. And cried the whole time.).
I grew a little tougher as an adult. I was still terrified but I could control and deal with it like a fairly normal person. I even got a couple of tattoos. But not until fertility treatments did they become no big deal. Now I'm a CHAMP. I pull up my sleeve, ball up my fist and don't even flinch when the needle goes in. I know that its easier to find a good vein in my left arm. I compliment a good phlebotomist (and there are bad ones, we all know it). Its kind of like a girlie exam. They were neither ENJOYABLE nor terrifying, but it was something I did not look forward to. Now, I'm like "Undress from the waist down? Sure! You're like one of 5 doctors left in the area who HASN'T seen my vagina, so have at it."
Back to the needles. I'm starting acupuncture again. I am so NOT needle-phobic anymore that I am willing to pay someone to stick like 15-20 needles all over my body (go back in time and tell that to College Leah and she would squirt keg beer out her nose and laugh her ass off.) I figure if we are going to spend all this friggin money, let's do everything we can to improve our chances right? So I went to my new acupuncturist yesterday. I liked her. She's going to make it so I can get pregnant again. And eat gluten again. Its going to be so awesome. Except for the herbs. The herbs are NOT awesome. They taste like shit.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Back in the Stirrups Again
So we went to our consultation appointment on Monday. I really liked the doctor we met with. And I guess the news was as good as we could hope for.
We went over our history with her. She talked about how being an old lady like me is not good for eggs (no duh). She said my husband's sperm counts (from 2008) looked very good. Which means the trouble really is all me and my old ass eggs. But she said my FSH has stayed basically the same from 2008 to now. So all that was good news.
Some things that surprised me: I had gone in thinking we were definitely looking at IVF, but based on what she said, IUI may be our best option. Because our only issue appears to be maternal age, our odds of getting pregnant are about the same if we do a few rounds of IUI as they are if we did one round of IVF. She said IVF increases the odds of pregnancy in younger women and women who have tubal issues and for couples dealing with male factor and those sorts of things. But apparently old ladies like me just don't have good odds when using their own eggs. Now I did actually know this (again, no duh), but I didn't realize that IUI could possibly give us just as good a chance. As anyone who has gone down the infertility road knows, IUI IS HELLA CHEAPER THAN IVF. She also told me that going with an IVF package (2 fresh, 2 frozen cycles at a discounted price) is no good for us because I would most likely not have any embryos to freeze. She said that with women my age, they are just HOPING to get 2 or 3 good embryos and that they usually use all 3 in a fresh cycle and hope that just one sticks.
So we then moved on to the examination room where it was time to hop back in the stirrups. When the doctor left us so I could get undressed, my husband just looked around and said "here we are again." Of course, I have been in many a stirrup since we last did fertility treatments, in the quest to figure out what the hell was wrong with me, but he wasn't with me at those appointments. And they weren't technically related to babymaking. But I could see he was feeling a little like "oh shit, I did not miss this." I was actually feeling pretty okay. I've had so many trans-v ultrasounds, it ain't no thang. And I type "trans-v" in honor of those assholes in Virginia, especially the man who sponsored the bill, but can't even SAY the word "vagina." I forget his name at the moment, but I saw footage of him saying "trans-V ultrasound" over and over. Its trans-VAGINAL fella. If you can't even SAY the word vagina, maybe you should think long and hard about legislating what women have do with theirs. Kthanx bye. Now back to me.
My antral follicle count was 2 or 3 on the left and 3 or 4 on the right which she said was about what she expected - not great, not horrible. On day 3 of my next cycle, which should start any second now, I'll get my FSH, estradiol and AMH tested. I've had FSH and estradiol done recently, but I've never had the AMH. Apparently it wasn't even available way back in 2008. Its another indicator of ovarian reserve and helps the doctor estimate our chances of success. So if that comes back in a not horrible range, it sounds like she's going to tell us we have a reasonable chance of success. What's reasonable? I believe she said they don't like to do IVF on women who have a less than 25% of success and that we should decide what percentage is acceptable to us. 25%?! Is 25% reasonable?! Oh and I think the percentage is even smaller for any given round of IUI. Awesome.
So anyways, now we wait for my period to make its arrival. Of course, this month when we are waiting for it to come to get started on possibly trying, its not coming. And not because I'm pregnant (I already POAS and it was negative - who pees on a stick on day 25 of their cycle? Me.) I guess its good that I'm actually having a normal-length cycle? Oh, who knows. So now its day 28 and I haven't had a 28 day cycle in who knows how long. Oh well. I feel relatively relaxed about the waiting. My new focus on "one day at a time" appears to be working so far AND I have a delightful little two year old to keep me quite busy.
The only other thing worth noting is that the day of our appointment was the 5 year anniversary of finding out the terrible news about our first baby. February 27, 2007 . I can't believe its been five years. I wore the bracelet my husband got me as a remembrance of her. For good luck? To remind myself and her and all the world that she will always be my first baby in my heart? I don't know. i just felt like wearing it.
So we shall see.......one day a at time.
We went over our history with her. She talked about how being an old lady like me is not good for eggs (no duh). She said my husband's sperm counts (from 2008) looked very good. Which means the trouble really is all me and my old ass eggs. But she said my FSH has stayed basically the same from 2008 to now. So all that was good news.
Some things that surprised me: I had gone in thinking we were definitely looking at IVF, but based on what she said, IUI may be our best option. Because our only issue appears to be maternal age, our odds of getting pregnant are about the same if we do a few rounds of IUI as they are if we did one round of IVF. She said IVF increases the odds of pregnancy in younger women and women who have tubal issues and for couples dealing with male factor and those sorts of things. But apparently old ladies like me just don't have good odds when using their own eggs. Now I did actually know this (again, no duh), but I didn't realize that IUI could possibly give us just as good a chance. As anyone who has gone down the infertility road knows, IUI IS HELLA CHEAPER THAN IVF. She also told me that going with an IVF package (2 fresh, 2 frozen cycles at a discounted price) is no good for us because I would most likely not have any embryos to freeze. She said that with women my age, they are just HOPING to get 2 or 3 good embryos and that they usually use all 3 in a fresh cycle and hope that just one sticks.
So we then moved on to the examination room where it was time to hop back in the stirrups. When the doctor left us so I could get undressed, my husband just looked around and said "here we are again." Of course, I have been in many a stirrup since we last did fertility treatments, in the quest to figure out what the hell was wrong with me, but he wasn't with me at those appointments. And they weren't technically related to babymaking. But I could see he was feeling a little like "oh shit, I did not miss this." I was actually feeling pretty okay. I've had so many trans-v ultrasounds, it ain't no thang. And I type "trans-v" in honor of those assholes in Virginia, especially the man who sponsored the bill, but can't even SAY the word "vagina." I forget his name at the moment, but I saw footage of him saying "trans-V ultrasound" over and over. Its trans-VAGINAL fella. If you can't even SAY the word vagina, maybe you should think long and hard about legislating what women have do with theirs. Kthanx bye. Now back to me.
My antral follicle count was 2 or 3 on the left and 3 or 4 on the right which she said was about what she expected - not great, not horrible. On day 3 of my next cycle, which should start any second now, I'll get my FSH, estradiol and AMH tested. I've had FSH and estradiol done recently, but I've never had the AMH. Apparently it wasn't even available way back in 2008. Its another indicator of ovarian reserve and helps the doctor estimate our chances of success. So if that comes back in a not horrible range, it sounds like she's going to tell us we have a reasonable chance of success. What's reasonable? I believe she said they don't like to do IVF on women who have a less than 25% of success and that we should decide what percentage is acceptable to us. 25%?! Is 25% reasonable?! Oh and I think the percentage is even smaller for any given round of IUI. Awesome.
So anyways, now we wait for my period to make its arrival. Of course, this month when we are waiting for it to come to get started on possibly trying, its not coming. And not because I'm pregnant (I already POAS and it was negative - who pees on a stick on day 25 of their cycle? Me.) I guess its good that I'm actually having a normal-length cycle? Oh, who knows. So now its day 28 and I haven't had a 28 day cycle in who knows how long. Oh well. I feel relatively relaxed about the waiting. My new focus on "one day at a time" appears to be working so far AND I have a delightful little two year old to keep me quite busy.
The only other thing worth noting is that the day of our appointment was the 5 year anniversary of finding out the terrible news about our first baby. February 27, 2007 . I can't believe its been five years. I wore the bracelet my husband got me as a remembrance of her. For good luck? To remind myself and her and all the world that she will always be my first baby in my heart? I don't know. i just felt like wearing it.
So we shall see.......one day a at time.
The Two's Are Not So Terrible
As I start typing this post, my little man is sitting on the couch, yelling the names of all the Thomas engines as he watches his show - "Thomas! James! Gordon!" (actually he says "dordon") That little boy voice and his not-quite-right pronunciations make me smile. I'm in here typing while he watches because, sometimes, I just can't watch Thomas. The stories are boring, the trains with their rolling eyes and odd faces are creepy, and the songs are terrible. The episodes narrated by Alec Baldwin are bearable because I find everything he does to be a little bit funny (and his James voice makes James sound like a prissy queen and that just kills me because it is SO right). Most days I'll gladly sit through a terrible kid's show to snuggle with Finn on the couch, knowing that someday snuggles will be few are far between, but every now and again, I use that 20-30 minutes to do something for myself (like pay bills online or empty the dishwasher or do the taxes - indulgent stuff like that).
So about those "Terrible Two's." So far, not so terrible in our house. Don't get me wrong, we have our moments. There are fits. There is crying for no apparent reason. And when all the "terrible two" typical behaviors started, I felt quite frustrated and irritated. I felt like I was saying "no" ALL day. I felt like he would NEVER play by himself or let me cook dinner or even go to the bathroom by myself. I felt tired and crabby and not sure what to do. And I think I was taking some of his behavior personally. But then I read a couple of blog posts, a couple of those Babycenter "My Toddler at Two" emails came at just the right moment, and I saw that lady who wrote a book about parenting like the French on TV. And I was reminded that this is totally normal and taking a two year old's behavior personally is ridiculous. And what I took away from the French parenting book lady, was PATIENCE. So I tell myself every day (okay, 10 times a day, or 25, whatever) to be patient and calm. And the two's are a lot less terrible.
The wonderful things about two?
* He doesn't fall as much - I don't have to worry every second that he's going to fall down or try to climb something he's not ready for. Stairs are still tricky. We don;t have stairs at house so he doesn't get much practice. Going up, he's good. Down? He would just barrel forward and fall right down if I let him. But other than stairs, we're all good.
* He can talk!!! Granted, I can't understand all of what he says and most people can't understand MOST of it, but he's talking and communicating and its adorable and helpful. I remember when my friends' kids were little and they would talk to me and I'd think "what the hell did that kid just say?" and the mom would be like "he said he went to the park and had fun on the slide" and I'd be like "there is no way in hell that's what he said." But now I totally get it. I am Finn's interpreter. Finn will tell my mom "Gramma Danet, da dabage duck tame and dot my geen dabage" and she'll look at me like "WTF?" And I explain "Grandma Janet, the garbage truck came and got my green garbage." But he can tell me when he's full and when he wants his sippy cup and when he has poo and what toy he wants to play with and which book he wants to read. Woo hoo!! The frustration level for both of us has gone down considerably. And that little voice is just too much.
* He can play by himself. Not all the time and not for long of course, but he is getting more independent. I can flip through a magazine while he plays cars. I can get dinner ready while he plays in his kitchen. I can chat with a friend while he plays with their kids on a play date.
* He gets silly. He loves to laugh and run around, chase me or Greg and be chased. He loves it when we make funny faces at him. He'll point to a picture of Thomas the Train and say "That's Percy" and laugh and laugh and then go through the whole book calling every train Percy and laughing the whole time. He'll put on my shoes and walk around in them to make me laugh. God, there is no better sound then his laughter. I have always loved hearing babies and toddlers laugh, but when its your child doing it? Oh man.
But best of all?
* He is a little lover. He likes to snuggle and watch a show or snuggle and read books. He says "I wuv you Mama." And sometimes when I say "I love you too Finn" he says "I wuv you too" and I say "I love you too" and he says "I wuv you too" and it makes me smile and want to cry at the same time. He hugs people and gives kisses. He tells his grandparents that he loves them. Its the absolute best.
Having an infant is wonderful and awful at the same time. I was sleep deprived and new at staying home and in pain 24 hours a day. But now I get to sleep, I'm better at being a "stay at home mom," the pain is better, and I'm the healthiest I've ever been. And I have a healthy, mostly happy, son who is becoming this amazing little person. I don't know if what we went through makes me appreciate what I have more. But I am painfully aware how lucky we are to have him. Which isn't to say that I run around blowing rainbows out my ass and acting like everything is perfect all of the time. We have our moments (like this morning when I started this post - I stopped to feed Finn breakfast. He had a meltdown for seemingly no reason. Eventually I figured out it was because he wanted his pancake folded in half so he could hold it like a burrito). And there are days when I am like, get me out of this house and please let some intelligent adult talk to me. But I think losing a baby and having trouble getting pregnant help me put the tough days in perspective. The twos aren't terrible. Before we had him was terrible.
So about those "Terrible Two's." So far, not so terrible in our house. Don't get me wrong, we have our moments. There are fits. There is crying for no apparent reason. And when all the "terrible two" typical behaviors started, I felt quite frustrated and irritated. I felt like I was saying "no" ALL day. I felt like he would NEVER play by himself or let me cook dinner or even go to the bathroom by myself. I felt tired and crabby and not sure what to do. And I think I was taking some of his behavior personally. But then I read a couple of blog posts, a couple of those Babycenter "My Toddler at Two" emails came at just the right moment, and I saw that lady who wrote a book about parenting like the French on TV. And I was reminded that this is totally normal and taking a two year old's behavior personally is ridiculous. And what I took away from the French parenting book lady, was PATIENCE. So I tell myself every day (okay, 10 times a day, or 25, whatever) to be patient and calm. And the two's are a lot less terrible.
The wonderful things about two?
* He doesn't fall as much - I don't have to worry every second that he's going to fall down or try to climb something he's not ready for. Stairs are still tricky. We don;t have stairs at house so he doesn't get much practice. Going up, he's good. Down? He would just barrel forward and fall right down if I let him. But other than stairs, we're all good.
* He can talk!!! Granted, I can't understand all of what he says and most people can't understand MOST of it, but he's talking and communicating and its adorable and helpful. I remember when my friends' kids were little and they would talk to me and I'd think "what the hell did that kid just say?" and the mom would be like "he said he went to the park and had fun on the slide" and I'd be like "there is no way in hell that's what he said." But now I totally get it. I am Finn's interpreter. Finn will tell my mom "Gramma Danet, da dabage duck tame and dot my geen dabage" and she'll look at me like "WTF?" And I explain "Grandma Janet, the garbage truck came and got my green garbage." But he can tell me when he's full and when he wants his sippy cup and when he has poo and what toy he wants to play with and which book he wants to read. Woo hoo!! The frustration level for both of us has gone down considerably. And that little voice is just too much.
* He can play by himself. Not all the time and not for long of course, but he is getting more independent. I can flip through a magazine while he plays cars. I can get dinner ready while he plays in his kitchen. I can chat with a friend while he plays with their kids on a play date.
* He gets silly. He loves to laugh and run around, chase me or Greg and be chased. He loves it when we make funny faces at him. He'll point to a picture of Thomas the Train and say "That's Percy" and laugh and laugh and then go through the whole book calling every train Percy and laughing the whole time. He'll put on my shoes and walk around in them to make me laugh. God, there is no better sound then his laughter. I have always loved hearing babies and toddlers laugh, but when its your child doing it? Oh man.
But best of all?
* He is a little lover. He likes to snuggle and watch a show or snuggle and read books. He says "I wuv you Mama." And sometimes when I say "I love you too Finn" he says "I wuv you too" and I say "I love you too" and he says "I wuv you too" and it makes me smile and want to cry at the same time. He hugs people and gives kisses. He tells his grandparents that he loves them. Its the absolute best.
Having an infant is wonderful and awful at the same time. I was sleep deprived and new at staying home and in pain 24 hours a day. But now I get to sleep, I'm better at being a "stay at home mom," the pain is better, and I'm the healthiest I've ever been. And I have a healthy, mostly happy, son who is becoming this amazing little person. I don't know if what we went through makes me appreciate what I have more. But I am painfully aware how lucky we are to have him. Which isn't to say that I run around blowing rainbows out my ass and acting like everything is perfect all of the time. We have our moments (like this morning when I started this post - I stopped to feed Finn breakfast. He had a meltdown for seemingly no reason. Eventually I figured out it was because he wanted his pancake folded in half so he could hold it like a burrito). And there are days when I am like, get me out of this house and please let some intelligent adult talk to me. But I think losing a baby and having trouble getting pregnant help me put the tough days in perspective. The twos aren't terrible. Before we had him was terrible.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
The Fear Factor
We're thinking of doing IVF. I even made a consultation appointment that's gonna cost us $275 whether we decide to go through with it or not. Which reminds me, I need to play the lottery tomorrow......
So why this change of heart? A year ago, even two months ago, if you had asked me if we were going to do fertility treatments again, I would have said HELL NO. Too expensive, too stressful and scary, not likely to work, no thank you. But now I'm feeling like we should give it a shot. Why? I mean, this is a major change in my thinking. Am I crazy? Am I going to change my mind again in a month? I am not PMSing so it can't be blamed on that.
Here's some of my thinking:
1) I think the hubs wants to try for another biological child. We've been talking about adoption and I just don't think he is ready for that. He has not pushed me in ANY way to do fertility again. And I love him so much for that. He has said from the beginning that I am the one that has to go through the most physical discomfort and stress and if I don't want to do it, that is okay. He totally gets what it means to go down that road - it will be a lot for me to deal with, physically and mentally. Not that he gets through it scott free, but its different and he really knows that. Thank God. But I think that if I am willing to do it, that would make him happy. I think he'd be happiest if we just had lots of sex and got pregnant the old-fashioned way, but that doesn't seem likely....
2) Turns out my fertility may not be as bad as I was thinking. For some reason, I thought that when I first went through all the fertility testing, that my FSH was 14. I went back and looked at my info and saw that it was 6.9. Quite a big difference. I recently went to a new OB/GYN and she tested my FSH mid-cycle and it was 20. She started to think that maybe I was in early menopause based on my previous FSH of 14 (which I now know wasn't REALLY 14 and now I am so embarrassed to tell her I was wrong, it was actually half that), my shorter menstrual cycles and the FSH of 20. Apparently 20 can be normal-ish or really high - it depends on the stage of your cycle I have only been keeping track of when I started my period, not ovulation so its hard to know exactly what that number meant. So before I resigned myself to shriveling up at the ripe ole age of 38, I asked her if we could do a day 3 test. That test came back at 11.3. High but not astronomical. My doctor said it indicates "decreased ovarian reserve but not infertility" and she said we should consult a fertility doctor if we want to get pregnant again.
Also, she finally explained to me in a clear and concise way what the hell is wrong with me. I won't get into that now, but let's just say that getting pregnant again and having another c-section where they can get in there and clean up some things MAY be the best option for fixing my problem.
3) When I think about trying again, I don't feel as scared. And I think when I am really honest with myself, the biggest thing that was holding me back was my fear. I would have told you it was the cost. I mean cost is a HUGE consideration because the cost is HUGE. But I think when I would say before "The cost combined with the thought of the physical toll and the stress makes it not worth it" what I really meant was "I cannot stomach spending all that money to go through the pain again." And I don't mean the speculums or the ultrasound wands or the needles, I mean the pain of disappointment and loss. Why spend all that money when it probably won't work and even if a miracle occurs and I actually get pregnant, something bad will probably happen. I was just assuming it would be all disappointment and hurt. Because if that's what you tell yourself and that's what you prepare yourself for, it won't hurt as much right? Yeah right.
But here's the thing: I don't want to base my decision on fear. The fear is understandable. Practical even. And it IS a consideration. Everyone has a point at which they can't do it anymore. Can't do it emotionally. Can't do it financially. But I don't want fear to hold me back from doing something I want to do and can, in fact, handle. I think I have lived a good portion of my life that way - basing choices, from small day to day things to big life-changing decisions, on the fear of getting hurt. Doing whatever it took to avoid being hurt.
At the end of the IVF road, there may not be a baby. And this may be naive but, I feel like at the end of the adoption road, there will be a baby. Which isn't to say that it would be easy, but I feel like if that was really what we both wanted to do and we were willing to put in the time and open our hearts and find the right birth mother, it would happen. And I think that's why I was ready to move on to adoption. It feels less risky. Less scary. There are things about it that scare me of course - Would anyone ever choose us? Would the birth mother change her mind? Would our adopted child feel strange or second best because we have a biological child? But these are fears I don't really KNOW because I haven't personally experienced them. They are abstract, theoretical fears and that makes them seems easier to face.
The things that scare me about IVF and trying to get pregnant again are fears I KNOW all too well. I know the disappointment of not being pregnant after trying and trying and hoping and hoping and spending thousands of dollars and making endless long trips to the doctor. I know the pain of losing a baby. I know the pain of having a miscarriage. I know and vividly remember the fear I tried so hard to keep at bay when I was pregnant with Finn. The fear that was always right under the surface, that made me look at the toilet paper every time I wiped, that made my heart stop for a moment at every ultrasound while they looked for the heartbeat, that made me wonder at my baby shower what I would do with all the gifts if something happened to the baby, that made me start to LOSE IT during labor when his heart rate dropped and I felt like I had made it all that way and yet I would still lose him. I could go on and on.
After we lost the baby, my journey trying to get pregnant was filled with pain and fear. And when we started to talk about another baby,my knee-jerk reaction was, I am not going through all that again. The thought of continuing that journey, of getting back on that road was not an option for me. Because I was afraid. I had made it through my pregnancy, I was feeling happy and whole again and I did not want to risk going back.
But here's how I feel right now, today. I do not have to get back on that road. The road that was ruled by pain and fear. And the truth is, I literally CAN'T get back on that road. It CAN'T be the same road. Because things are not the same. I am not the same person. I am not in the same place. My marriage is not the same. Our family is now made up of three. Things are different. Better in so many ways. And not better in others. So it just simply will not be the same. It will be a different road.
Is it possible, even likely, that there will be stress and disappointment? Yes. Is it possible that I will get hurt and feel pain? Yes. And does that scare me? Yes.
But not enough to not do it.
Because here's the thing. I accept all the disappointment and pain and hurt and loss that we experienced. Its a part of my story and our experience together. It is a part of me. It shaped who I am today. It brought me to my son. It showed me over and over again that I married a wonderful man. And those years weren't ONLY filled with pain and hurt. They were also filled with love and supportive family and friends and hope and growth.
Wow, this sounds a little too.......I don't know, hippie-dippie. So why don't I switch gears.
Fuck fear.
I can do this. Or not do this. But I cannot let fear be the deciding factor.
So why this change of heart? A year ago, even two months ago, if you had asked me if we were going to do fertility treatments again, I would have said HELL NO. Too expensive, too stressful and scary, not likely to work, no thank you. But now I'm feeling like we should give it a shot. Why? I mean, this is a major change in my thinking. Am I crazy? Am I going to change my mind again in a month? I am not PMSing so it can't be blamed on that.
Here's some of my thinking:
1) I think the hubs wants to try for another biological child. We've been talking about adoption and I just don't think he is ready for that. He has not pushed me in ANY way to do fertility again. And I love him so much for that. He has said from the beginning that I am the one that has to go through the most physical discomfort and stress and if I don't want to do it, that is okay. He totally gets what it means to go down that road - it will be a lot for me to deal with, physically and mentally. Not that he gets through it scott free, but its different and he really knows that. Thank God. But I think that if I am willing to do it, that would make him happy. I think he'd be happiest if we just had lots of sex and got pregnant the old-fashioned way, but that doesn't seem likely....
2) Turns out my fertility may not be as bad as I was thinking. For some reason, I thought that when I first went through all the fertility testing, that my FSH was 14. I went back and looked at my info and saw that it was 6.9. Quite a big difference. I recently went to a new OB/GYN and she tested my FSH mid-cycle and it was 20. She started to think that maybe I was in early menopause based on my previous FSH of 14 (which I now know wasn't REALLY 14 and now I am so embarrassed to tell her I was wrong, it was actually half that), my shorter menstrual cycles and the FSH of 20. Apparently 20 can be normal-ish or really high - it depends on the stage of your cycle I have only been keeping track of when I started my period, not ovulation so its hard to know exactly what that number meant. So before I resigned myself to shriveling up at the ripe ole age of 38, I asked her if we could do a day 3 test. That test came back at 11.3. High but not astronomical. My doctor said it indicates "decreased ovarian reserve but not infertility" and she said we should consult a fertility doctor if we want to get pregnant again.
Also, she finally explained to me in a clear and concise way what the hell is wrong with me. I won't get into that now, but let's just say that getting pregnant again and having another c-section where they can get in there and clean up some things MAY be the best option for fixing my problem.
3) When I think about trying again, I don't feel as scared. And I think when I am really honest with myself, the biggest thing that was holding me back was my fear. I would have told you it was the cost. I mean cost is a HUGE consideration because the cost is HUGE. But I think when I would say before "The cost combined with the thought of the physical toll and the stress makes it not worth it" what I really meant was "I cannot stomach spending all that money to go through the pain again." And I don't mean the speculums or the ultrasound wands or the needles, I mean the pain of disappointment and loss. Why spend all that money when it probably won't work and even if a miracle occurs and I actually get pregnant, something bad will probably happen. I was just assuming it would be all disappointment and hurt. Because if that's what you tell yourself and that's what you prepare yourself for, it won't hurt as much right? Yeah right.
But here's the thing: I don't want to base my decision on fear. The fear is understandable. Practical even. And it IS a consideration. Everyone has a point at which they can't do it anymore. Can't do it emotionally. Can't do it financially. But I don't want fear to hold me back from doing something I want to do and can, in fact, handle. I think I have lived a good portion of my life that way - basing choices, from small day to day things to big life-changing decisions, on the fear of getting hurt. Doing whatever it took to avoid being hurt.
At the end of the IVF road, there may not be a baby. And this may be naive but, I feel like at the end of the adoption road, there will be a baby. Which isn't to say that it would be easy, but I feel like if that was really what we both wanted to do and we were willing to put in the time and open our hearts and find the right birth mother, it would happen. And I think that's why I was ready to move on to adoption. It feels less risky. Less scary. There are things about it that scare me of course - Would anyone ever choose us? Would the birth mother change her mind? Would our adopted child feel strange or second best because we have a biological child? But these are fears I don't really KNOW because I haven't personally experienced them. They are abstract, theoretical fears and that makes them seems easier to face.
The things that scare me about IVF and trying to get pregnant again are fears I KNOW all too well. I know the disappointment of not being pregnant after trying and trying and hoping and hoping and spending thousands of dollars and making endless long trips to the doctor. I know the pain of losing a baby. I know the pain of having a miscarriage. I know and vividly remember the fear I tried so hard to keep at bay when I was pregnant with Finn. The fear that was always right under the surface, that made me look at the toilet paper every time I wiped, that made my heart stop for a moment at every ultrasound while they looked for the heartbeat, that made me wonder at my baby shower what I would do with all the gifts if something happened to the baby, that made me start to LOSE IT during labor when his heart rate dropped and I felt like I had made it all that way and yet I would still lose him. I could go on and on.
After we lost the baby, my journey trying to get pregnant was filled with pain and fear. And when we started to talk about another baby,my knee-jerk reaction was, I am not going through all that again. The thought of continuing that journey, of getting back on that road was not an option for me. Because I was afraid. I had made it through my pregnancy, I was feeling happy and whole again and I did not want to risk going back.
But here's how I feel right now, today. I do not have to get back on that road. The road that was ruled by pain and fear. And the truth is, I literally CAN'T get back on that road. It CAN'T be the same road. Because things are not the same. I am not the same person. I am not in the same place. My marriage is not the same. Our family is now made up of three. Things are different. Better in so many ways. And not better in others. So it just simply will not be the same. It will be a different road.
Is it possible, even likely, that there will be stress and disappointment? Yes. Is it possible that I will get hurt and feel pain? Yes. And does that scare me? Yes.
But not enough to not do it.
Because here's the thing. I accept all the disappointment and pain and hurt and loss that we experienced. Its a part of my story and our experience together. It is a part of me. It shaped who I am today. It brought me to my son. It showed me over and over again that I married a wonderful man. And those years weren't ONLY filled with pain and hurt. They were also filled with love and supportive family and friends and hope and growth.
Wow, this sounds a little too.......I don't know, hippie-dippie. So why don't I switch gears.
Fuck fear.
I can do this. Or not do this. But I cannot let fear be the deciding factor.
Monday, January 30, 2012
A Half Initiation
I am "half" initiated into the throw up club. Only half becauseit did not happen on me, in fact, I didn't even witness the event. Finn threw up in his crib sometime in the night or early morning. And that kind of freaks me out.
I heard him calling me this morning at about 6:40 (so he sort of slept in). And it didn't occur to me until after, but his voice sounded different. Quieter than usual. Most mornings he wakes up and start singing and talking to himself or shouting. He's in there either having a good ol' time or is totally pissed that we haven't immediately rushed in to sweep him out of bed. This morning it was a more subdued Mama, mama. Anyways, I poke my head in and tell him I have to go pee and I'll be right back. Nice. 5 more minutes hanging out in his own puke. But I didn't know! At least I got up right away. Usually I let him talk to himself for a bit while I sleep for 10 more minutes.
So I go in and turn on the light and his crib is covered in last night's dinner (taco casserole - totally gross). And he's telling me he "pooped" and "its messy." Poor guy. It was all over the crib and all over the front of him. I think he did it in his sleep? Is that even possible? And if so, isn't that dangerous?! I find this all very disturbing.
But we got him up and out of his PJ's, gave him a bath and he was good as new. He isn't horribly sick today, but I can tell he doesn't feel well and he's hardly eating - which is not normal for him. And when I went in to get him up after his nap, he told me "its nice and clean in here." Cutie patootie.
** The next day: I am now FULLY intitiated. He puked again during dinner. And we cannot blame the new recipe I tried because he didn't even eat any of it. Poor cutie patootie.... Actually he's feeling better today. Guess it was a 24 hour thing. But now the hubs has it. And let's be honest, that is worse in many ways. "Sick baby" is cute on a baby, not a grown man. He HATES being sick and is just not very good at it. But he's usually a cutie patootie too, so I'll type him a "poor cutie patootie" too. And I assume that at this time tomorrow I will be the one with my head in the toilet : (
** A few days later: What a week. Let's just say that the little man had it the easiest, the big man had it the worst and I had it pretty rough too. The hubs was so sick I could not even believe it. I was sure we would end up in the ER. Poor guy. A few highlights - Finn yelling from his crib "Mama okay? Mama? Mama?" while I am almost passed out, naked on the bathroom floor; the husband breaking the toilet seat and then said broken seat being very hard for me to navigate when it was my turn to spend lots of quality time sitting on it (we have one bathroom); both of us literally MOANING and almost crying in pain (at different times of course - my sickness was about 18 hours behind his). But we survived and are mostly healthy again. It was a god-awful but short flu. And we weathered it together as a family. Awwwwww. Maybe the best moment? When, after caring for Finn all by himself for almost 24 hours, my husband tells me "I don't know how you do this."
I heard him calling me this morning at about 6:40 (so he sort of slept in). And it didn't occur to me until after, but his voice sounded different. Quieter than usual. Most mornings he wakes up and start singing and talking to himself or shouting. He's in there either having a good ol' time or is totally pissed that we haven't immediately rushed in to sweep him out of bed. This morning it was a more subdued Mama, mama. Anyways, I poke my head in and tell him I have to go pee and I'll be right back. Nice. 5 more minutes hanging out in his own puke. But I didn't know! At least I got up right away. Usually I let him talk to himself for a bit while I sleep for 10 more minutes.
So I go in and turn on the light and his crib is covered in last night's dinner (taco casserole - totally gross). And he's telling me he "pooped" and "its messy." Poor guy. It was all over the crib and all over the front of him. I think he did it in his sleep? Is that even possible? And if so, isn't that dangerous?! I find this all very disturbing.
But we got him up and out of his PJ's, gave him a bath and he was good as new. He isn't horribly sick today, but I can tell he doesn't feel well and he's hardly eating - which is not normal for him. And when I went in to get him up after his nap, he told me "its nice and clean in here." Cutie patootie.
** The next day: I am now FULLY intitiated. He puked again during dinner. And we cannot blame the new recipe I tried because he didn't even eat any of it. Poor cutie patootie.... Actually he's feeling better today. Guess it was a 24 hour thing. But now the hubs has it. And let's be honest, that is worse in many ways. "Sick baby" is cute on a baby, not a grown man. He HATES being sick and is just not very good at it. But he's usually a cutie patootie too, so I'll type him a "poor cutie patootie" too. And I assume that at this time tomorrow I will be the one with my head in the toilet : (
** A few days later: What a week. Let's just say that the little man had it the easiest, the big man had it the worst and I had it pretty rough too. The hubs was so sick I could not even believe it. I was sure we would end up in the ER. Poor guy. A few highlights - Finn yelling from his crib "Mama okay? Mama? Mama?" while I am almost passed out, naked on the bathroom floor; the husband breaking the toilet seat and then said broken seat being very hard for me to navigate when it was my turn to spend lots of quality time sitting on it (we have one bathroom); both of us literally MOANING and almost crying in pain (at different times of course - my sickness was about 18 hours behind his). But we survived and are mostly healthy again. It was a god-awful but short flu. And we weathered it together as a family. Awwwwww. Maybe the best moment? When, after caring for Finn all by himself for almost 24 hours, my husband tells me "I don't know how you do this."
Friday, January 27, 2012
Hide the Poo
So my husband and I have been playing a game that I will call "Hide the Poo." Its not nearly as disgusting as it sounds, but it is probably more immature than either of us would like to think about. He got this little plastic piece of poo from one of his work friends as part of their Christmas card. Don't ask. These are the kind of work friends he has.
So one day, I happened to be a little irritated with him for some reason - I don't remember why. I have a feeling it had to with him never putting away his laundry and/or leaving his giant size twelves on our bedroom floor. I mean, two of his shoes cover like half of the available floor space in our small ass room. And the hall closet where we keep our shoes is no more than 3 feet from where he leaves them...but I digress. Its also possible we had bickered before he left for work. Who knows. Anyway, after he leaves for work, I'm in our room tidying up, feeling pissed, when I find the piece of poo hidden in my book. And it totally makes me smile and remember once again why I love him. And I proceed to hide the poo on top of his toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.
And the poo has gone back and forth several times since - my underwear drawer, on top of his cell phone. It hadn't moved for about two weeks because the last spot I put it in was inside HIS book. Unbeknownst to me, he was already done reading it so he didn't even notice it until I asked him if I could borrow the book when he was done. In fact, I had forgotten I had even put it there because I get dumber by the minute and can't remember anything that I don't write down. After he left for work this evening, I go out to change a load of laundry and its in the door handle of the dryer. It scared the shit out of me (pun intended). Well played G$, well played. I have now put the poo in a GREAT spot (which I will not write because he might read this).
So what's the big deal with this stupid plastic poo and the hiding it game? Because its funny. And stupid. Its the kind of thing we would have done to each other when we first started dating. Back when we made each other laugh nonstop. Before "for better or for WORSE" (and the worse came quick for us dammit). Before we became parents who are totally wrapped up and in love with their son, which is wonderful but also makes for A LOT less time for us to love on each other. Before G$ became our sole provider and some weeks works so many hours we hardly even see each other. Before I became a stay at home mom who gets crabby when her husband comes home from work and messes up the house she tried to clean and keep tidy all day.
We get so few moments that are for just US or about just US. And I'm not complaining. The reason for that is our son and the choices we have made about me staying at home. I wouldn't change the way things are for the world. But I can see now how parents can lose themselves and how staying connected gets harder or things get stale or whatever. Being "Mom" and "Dad" eat up so much of the pie graph of who you are that "Wife" and "Husband" can get the shaft. I don't think we're THERE, I don't think our relationship is in any trouble, but I can SEE how it happens to people.
"Hide the Poo" is OURS. Not that anybody else would want it..... but its a stupid little thing WE do. Even if it only takes 30 seconds to find a good hiding spot, that was 30 seconds we spent trying to make the other person laugh.
What kept things fresh? Kept us laughing? What kept us out of marriage counseling? A plastic piece of poo. Awesome.
So one day, I happened to be a little irritated with him for some reason - I don't remember why. I have a feeling it had to with him never putting away his laundry and/or leaving his giant size twelves on our bedroom floor. I mean, two of his shoes cover like half of the available floor space in our small ass room. And the hall closet where we keep our shoes is no more than 3 feet from where he leaves them...but I digress. Its also possible we had bickered before he left for work. Who knows. Anyway, after he leaves for work, I'm in our room tidying up, feeling pissed, when I find the piece of poo hidden in my book. And it totally makes me smile and remember once again why I love him. And I proceed to hide the poo on top of his toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.
And the poo has gone back and forth several times since - my underwear drawer, on top of his cell phone. It hadn't moved for about two weeks because the last spot I put it in was inside HIS book. Unbeknownst to me, he was already done reading it so he didn't even notice it until I asked him if I could borrow the book when he was done. In fact, I had forgotten I had even put it there because I get dumber by the minute and can't remember anything that I don't write down. After he left for work this evening, I go out to change a load of laundry and its in the door handle of the dryer. It scared the shit out of me (pun intended). Well played G$, well played. I have now put the poo in a GREAT spot (which I will not write because he might read this).
So what's the big deal with this stupid plastic poo and the hiding it game? Because its funny. And stupid. Its the kind of thing we would have done to each other when we first started dating. Back when we made each other laugh nonstop. Before "for better or for WORSE" (and the worse came quick for us dammit). Before we became parents who are totally wrapped up and in love with their son, which is wonderful but also makes for A LOT less time for us to love on each other. Before G$ became our sole provider and some weeks works so many hours we hardly even see each other. Before I became a stay at home mom who gets crabby when her husband comes home from work and messes up the house she tried to clean and keep tidy all day.
We get so few moments that are for just US or about just US. And I'm not complaining. The reason for that is our son and the choices we have made about me staying at home. I wouldn't change the way things are for the world. But I can see now how parents can lose themselves and how staying connected gets harder or things get stale or whatever. Being "Mom" and "Dad" eat up so much of the pie graph of who you are that "Wife" and "Husband" can get the shaft. I don't think we're THERE, I don't think our relationship is in any trouble, but I can SEE how it happens to people.
"Hide the Poo" is OURS. Not that anybody else would want it..... but its a stupid little thing WE do. Even if it only takes 30 seconds to find a good hiding spot, that was 30 seconds we spent trying to make the other person laugh.
What kept things fresh? Kept us laughing? What kept us out of marriage counseling? A plastic piece of poo. Awesome.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
New Year's Resolutions Update
So how are my 125 resolutions going? Let's review:
1. Blog/journal more. I give myself a B minus. This is only my third post in 2 weeks. And I have started but not finished 2 others. Not bad. Not great. I continue to find it hard to sit down for long enough to write. My little sidekick does not allow it during his waking hours. And he only naps for an hour and half and the list of things to accomplish during that time is long. After he goes to bed for the night, the couch, tivo, words with friends and my own bed are just calling my name.....I just need to be happy with some short and sweet posts. Describe Finn's amazing and cute antics of the day (or vent about the terrible twos) and get back to Grey's Anatomy (watch less TV was not an OFFICIAL resolution so I don't feel bad about this. I have been watching less by the way - I am reading before bed instead of falling asleep to the TV).
2. Spend more quality time with my husband. We have gone on one date and are going on another on Thursday. If I get a babysitter. Shit. We have had two "serious" conversations that went quite well - one about adoption, which relates to another resolution. But we've only done it once in two weeks. I cannot give myself higher than a C+ because of this. But dammit, I pulled a groin muscle a couple of weeks ago and its only recently not killing me. So really I should give myself a B minus.
3. Come to a decision about adopting a baby. I have decided. The husband needs some more time to process. No grade for this one - its too big.
4. Live in the moment. Be present. I give myself an A minus for this one. I have really been making an effort and I think I am doing pretty well.
Those were my main four. An A and a couple of B minuses. Not TOO shabby. Of course if this were this my 9th grade report card, my dad would have had to sit down and talk to me about "working up to my potential" and explain that "B's are okay for some people and only if you really tried your hardest, but...." Since one of my lower grades has to do with lack of "quality" time with the husband (wink, wink), the thought of my dad telling me that its not acceptable is a tad disturbing.
Short and sweet. Now I'm off to watch Grey's.
Oh wait. Cute Finn story of the day? He is starting to sing "Wheels on the Bus" with me. And its just about the cutest thing you ever did hear. And I hate to sound like one of THOSE parents, but he sings pretty well. He's on key and seems to have some rhythm. Oh and he made up his own verse. "The Daddys on the bus go poo poo and pee pee." There's a lot of poo and pee talk lately. I'm just glad its the Daddys doing it on the bus and not the Mamas.
1. Blog/journal more. I give myself a B minus. This is only my third post in 2 weeks. And I have started but not finished 2 others. Not bad. Not great. I continue to find it hard to sit down for long enough to write. My little sidekick does not allow it during his waking hours. And he only naps for an hour and half and the list of things to accomplish during that time is long. After he goes to bed for the night, the couch, tivo, words with friends and my own bed are just calling my name.....I just need to be happy with some short and sweet posts. Describe Finn's amazing and cute antics of the day (or vent about the terrible twos) and get back to Grey's Anatomy (watch less TV was not an OFFICIAL resolution so I don't feel bad about this. I have been watching less by the way - I am reading before bed instead of falling asleep to the TV).
2. Spend more quality time with my husband. We have gone on one date and are going on another on Thursday. If I get a babysitter. Shit. We have had two "serious" conversations that went quite well - one about adoption, which relates to another resolution. But we've only done it once in two weeks. I cannot give myself higher than a C+ because of this. But dammit, I pulled a groin muscle a couple of weeks ago and its only recently not killing me. So really I should give myself a B minus.
3. Come to a decision about adopting a baby. I have decided. The husband needs some more time to process. No grade for this one - its too big.
4. Live in the moment. Be present. I give myself an A minus for this one. I have really been making an effort and I think I am doing pretty well.
Those were my main four. An A and a couple of B minuses. Not TOO shabby. Of course if this were this my 9th grade report card, my dad would have had to sit down and talk to me about "working up to my potential" and explain that "B's are okay for some people and only if you really tried your hardest, but...." Since one of my lower grades has to do with lack of "quality" time with the husband (wink, wink), the thought of my dad telling me that its not acceptable is a tad disturbing.
Short and sweet. Now I'm off to watch Grey's.
Oh wait. Cute Finn story of the day? He is starting to sing "Wheels on the Bus" with me. And its just about the cutest thing you ever did hear. And I hate to sound like one of THOSE parents, but he sings pretty well. He's on key and seems to have some rhythm. Oh and he made up his own verse. "The Daddys on the bus go poo poo and pee pee." There's a lot of poo and pee talk lately. I'm just glad its the Daddys doing it on the bus and not the Mamas.
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