public funding for IVF

The following article about infertility in my current province of residence came to my attention on www.ivf.ca. The article was good, but the readers' comments that followed were a mixed bag: from 'yes, infertility sucks; let's publicly fund treatments' to 'infertile people are selfish idiots who should just adopt.' All the predictable things you know you'll find in that kind of context.

Anyway, the article says that the Infertility Awareness Association of Canada is asking for 10,000 people to send their IF stories to the provincial minister of health, to try to get legislation going to help Ontarians pay for IVF, as Quebec is apparently going to start doing. So I'm gonna send in my sorry tale, and I'm encouraging DH to do the same. I'm also being interviewed by the government panel that has been set up to look at the issue of infertility in this province. We likely won't be in Ontario by the time this legislation could get through, but maybe it would set a precedent for other Canadian provinces. I'm doing my best to be an advocate.

I'm posting the whole news article here, in case you're interested, but you'll have to go to the web site (listed below) to read the user comments.


With Quebec covering two $10,000 infertility treatments, Ontario's residents are looking to province for help

Dec 27, 2008 04:30 AM

Comments on this story (16)

Tanya Talaga QUEEN'S PARK BUREAU

Premier Jean Charest promised shortly before he was re-elected in Quebec last month to publicly fund two in-vitro fertilization treatments for women unable to conceive.
Now, some Ontario residents are holding out hope their government will follow Quebec's lead and live up to a promise made last year.
The Liberal government, in the November 2007 throne speech, pledged it would do all it could to help Ontarians start a family. As a start, it created an expert panel on infertility and adoption, a group of nearly a dozen people touched by these issues, to examine and recommend ways to make adoption and fertility treatment more accessible and affordable.
The group has posted an online survey asking for people to share their experiences until Jan. 12 at Ontario.ca/creatingfamilies. The panel is expected to report back to Minister of Children and Youth Services Deb Matthews.
It is estimated one in six Ontario couples experience fertility problems. Ontario only pays for in-vitro fertilization treatments – a process in which eggs are fertilized outside the womb then transferred back – for women with completely blocked fallopian tubes.
Some believe this funding is discriminatory and should be amended to reflect Ontario's universal health-care model.
"The cost is minimal compared to some of the other stuff we do," said Dr. Matt Gysler, a Mississauga obstetrician and gynecologist and chief of medical staff at Credit Valley Hospital. One IVF treatment is roughly $10,000.
Gysler points to intensive care costs or the price of cancer medications that prolong life for mere months at a cost of $30,000.
"Intensive care, end-of-life care, is very expensive," he said. "I'm not saying people don't deserve that. We have no problems paying a huge amount on that side."
But Gysler argues that children become productive members of society. "I can't see how this could ever become a losing prospect for society," he said in an interview.
In Israel, the government funds as many IVF treatments as needed for women up to age 45; in Britain, the cost of one treatment is funded.
In the more than 20 years Gysler has practised medicine, he has seen a rise in infertility because so many women delay childbirth until they are older, more financially sound and set in good careers.
"It is quite phenomenal in southern Ontario," he said.
After age 35, fertility begins to decline. By 43, even with IVF treatment, the chances of a pregnancy are very slim.
Infertility takes a devastating emotional toll on a couple, Gysler said. "People massively underestimate the significance infertility has on those women. When you meet them, you realize instantly this is really a disease state," he said.
To some cultures, having children is incredibly important, said Gysler, who, in his practice, sees many diverse Ontarians living in the Brampton and Mississauga area.
"Take a young Pakistani couple who is working hard in this country – having a child is really fundamental to their existence," he said. "I think it is imprinted on our genetic material. The species needs to reproduce in order to continue to exist."
After years of trying to get pregnant, Lisa Ellies knew when she turned 35 that something was wrong. She went through six years of various assisted reproductive techniques, took medications, endured inter-uterine inseminations and had several surgeries. Finally, at 42, she became pregnant with twins after an IVF treatment. She lost one of the babies but gave birth to Alexa.
Last June, the Whitby mom did one other round of IVF in a last-ditch effort to conceive. In total, she has spent $55,000 on the procedures.
"I really do think this should be funded," said Ellies. "I understand you need limitations – there are women who have done 10 rounds at $100,000 and they are still going."
On average, it takes about two and a half IVF rounds before a woman becomes pregnant, said Ellies, who added perhaps the government should consider funding two or three treatments.
Toronto's Danny and Jillian Roth went through five rounds of IVF in four years and spent "more money than I care to remember," said Danny Roth. "You keep thinking the next one will work," he said. But it didn't. The couple experienced "unexplained" infertility problems, something that affects about 10 per cent of couples.
The Roths eventually turned to adoption. In 2004 they adopted their son, who is now 4.
"We are thrilled the McGuinty government made it part of the election platform and formed the (provincial) panel," said Roth, who is both on the Ontario panel and a board member of the Infertility Awareness Association of Canada.
Roth never dreamed of having infertility problems.
Most couples feel that, he said. It is a shock when life doesn't work the way you thought it would.
"It is all-consuming," he said. "We know couples whose marriages didn't survive it. We know couples who didn't buy a house because they put their money in fertility treatments."
Roth wants infertile couples to share their story. The infertility association hopes to collect 10,000 stories to give to Matthews and Minister of Health David Caplan before the release of the panel's final report. Visit www.iaac.ca and click on "Share Your Story."

http://www.thestar.com/article/558513

story

An Awkward but True Infertility Tale

I live in a city that is located in a densely populated area, in an apartment that is nowhere near any nice part of town. The elevators in this highrise never ever work (as you may remember from my last climb-down-35-flights-of-stairs-to-get-to-the-RE-on-time fiasco).

So an hour ago, DH and I were on our floor, waiting for an elevator so we could get groceries. The elevators are all shot to hel!, as usual. A tall, dark, handsome couple comes out to wait, too, with their young child in tow. I glance over at the female half because she looks familiar.

We all board the elevator, finally, with this woman wedged into the corner beside me. And then the elevator got stuck. I thought, "Uh oh, what if we're stuck here for ages - I need my Estrace and progesterone!"

And then it hit me: that woman is one of my 4 REs!

And then I kept giggling in my head at the surreal-ness of it all: here I'm wondering about my meds, and about pee sticks, AND in this elevator are two people who've seen my vagina, and one of them doesn't even know it! (Although she glanced over a few times, so I think she found my face familiar.) So I thought, "Oh gosh, I should ask her out of the blue if she carries extra estrogen and butt bullets - that would be hilarious."

Yes, this could happen to only me.

Am wondering if I had another chemical. The test I used today was from the same box as yesterday's, and there's no line on this one. Hm, not sure what to think, and am not telling DH; I know he doesn't want to know. Not sure if I'll test again tomorrow. I really hate these things, and wish I didn't have to wait until Saturday for a beta.

Got mail from my IF clinic - the doctors have to set up shop in another city because the current city won't grant them an ultrasound licence for their new clinic - so the letter gives the new details. (The city's ultrasound quota has been filled already. So stupid.) Not sure what to do, if we don't have any success before they move at the end of March. I don't have a car here, so the new clinic will be tough to get to for monitoring, especially because I'd have to compete with commuters on public transit. Maybe I'll go to Toronto. How annoying - we moved to this particular city just so that I'd be within walking distance of a good IF clinic.

Ok, gotta head outta here. I guess I'll decide later this afternoon if it's worth buying another test.

BFN

And this time I waited a full 10 minutes. Feel as though I got the wind knocked out of me.

Loves books, loves to read

I love books. I love to read. In fact, my graduate thesis is a memoir about books and reading. And all of this bibliophilia is feeding into my TTC experience, because I expect, of course, my life to line up like the plot of a novel. Not a postmodern piece of writing, with no plot (not in this case, anyway) and all misery. No, I want an old-fashioned beginning, middle, and end. I've been stuck in the middle forever - banging on a closed and locked door - and I'm waiting for a happy ending. Can it puh-leeeeeze be in 2008? A positive test would be a wonderful way to wrap up a crappy year. A storybook ending.

I am all tingly with anticipation. This stress is giving me a cardio workout, and I don't even have to get off of the couch. If I get a BFN tomorrow, I think I'll die. (Or just wait to test on Wed., whatever's more commonsensical. lol)

This is partly why I hate pee sticks. I do not know how to read them. The same thing happened during the October IVF cycle, as my turtle-mutant friends may remember. I had no idea what the tests meant, since I never used them, and part of the reason I didn't use them was because they were so frustrating to decipher. It's a vicious, self-perpetuating cycle, true. Ironically, though I'm a TTC vet, and though I'm a literate person, I don't know how to read those bloody things. (And, even though I have an honours degree in literature, with a 4.3 GPA, I can't play Scrabble worth beans. It's true. I suck. lol)

But there was definitely a blue line, and it popped up somewhere between the 2 - 50 minute mark. Did it happen before the 10-minute deadline? I dunno. Like an idiot, I forgot to check, as I assumed it would stay BFN. The POAS sage at http://www.peeonastick.com/ says DO NOT look at tests after 10 minutes. But ... I've read so many stories of late lines that did turn out to be BFPs. (Yes, I'm whining. lol) I don't mean lines that appear a day later. I mean coloured lines (not grey-ish evaps) that show up within an hour or two. So I don't know.

Daily roll call of symptoms:

--have been hot for the last 2 or 3 days (but that's my butt bullet talking, haha)
--zonked
--sore boobs (again, courtesy of my rectal pellet)
--super-mild, almost non-existent nausea both this evening and last night
--today I noticed ewcm (is this just from the Estrace?)
--noticed some action in the uterine area - so slight, though, that I could be making this up
--felt an hour ago as if af is coming

And the waiting continues.... thanks for obsessing with me.

Idiot that I am, I left the test after the 2 minute minimum, after it showed nothing.

I thought about 40 minutes later, oh, I should've looked again at the 10 minute max limit. So I looked, and the test line is blue on the left side - just a thin strip. It's not grey at all. That's what happened with my first 2 tests after the IVF. And I'm not a POAS-aholic, so I don't know if this is because all tests develop those lines after the time limit (I know peeonastick.com says they usually do), or what. So I'm checking on other people's stories online. Some women say that the evap line only shows up hours after a pee stick has been used. And that the line wouldn't have colour. But peeonastick.com says all lines seen after the time limit are invalid. Groooooan. Hellllllllp. I never use these things, so I don't know what to think, and I don't want to get my hopes up for nothing...

BFN

Not even a maybe. So I guess I'll try again tomorrow morning.

10 more hours.

Urghhhhh...

Ok, I braved the fierce winds to go get 2 pee sticks. Did not tell DH that I have them, though, because he'll get that disappointed and worried look on his face. I'll test tomorrow at around 7.

The good thing is that I feel a bit off, and I don't think that that's a psychosomatic symptom. I always try to ignore/dismiss anything resembling a pg symptom, since I've been burned so often in the past. But I feel the mildest nausea, fatigue, and vertigo - almost unnoticeable, but still there. Maybe I am making it up. *Siiiigh*

Must remind myself how late I got my first BFP, so if I get a BFN tomorrow, I have to just check again on Tuesday.

I have to go out. I don't go to the gym when I'm cycling - I walk and stretch and stuff, but haven't done much walking in the last week. So I'll head to the grocery store, which is about 2 miles away. It's just so dang windy outside, though. But I need that walk - I feel mushy - plus I've gotta pick up a pee stick.

I wonder if tomorrow is, in fact, too early to test. I'll be at 9dp3dt (on a frozen cycle, of course). For the IVF in fall, I didn't get a true BFP until 12dp3dt; I tested at 9dp and 10dp, from what I remember, but only got super-faint lines after the 10-minute deadline. Maybe I'll test, but just keep in mind if it's BFN that it's early.

Back again.

Noticed that my bbs are sore, not just the nips ('nips' - is there no better word for them?) So yeah. Do I just blame that on the butt bullets (aka: progesterone supps - thx to Aphrodity for coining that term!)? Urghhhhh.

I guess I need to decide on when to start testing, now that my bbs are giving me a constant physical reminder of my liminal 'pregnancy' status. DH asked earnestly if I would please wait for the beta next Saturday, but obviously that ain't gonna happen. I was thinking maybe Monday, since then I'll be the equivalent of about 12 or 13 dpo. I can't test tomorrow - don't have a pee stick within my immediate vicinity. I don't make a habit of purchasing them.

Is anyone else here on a 2ww? I need to obsess with other people. I miss my old Turtle-obsessers on SC. :(

My inner worrier won't quit. Have been verrrry touchy and teary today. Am logging in so I can look at that chart I posted yesterday, for some reassurance. The embie would have just started making HCG. Must also remember that frozen embies apparently take longer to implant. I can't start worrying yet.

Xmas promise

A few days ago, I decided that, since I was so grateful for a live embryo, I wanted to reciprocate in some way. I kinda prayed for an opportunity to present itself. That night, in a dream, an image flashed in front of my eyes: the web page of the Canadian Blood Services' OneMatch stem cell and bone marrow donor registry. So that was my sign - when all this TTC business is over, I will sign up for that registry and become a donor.

Also, if this embie sticks, I decided that I will purchase return airfare for my parents and my mother-in-law (all of whom are strapped for cash) to fly here and stay with us for a week.

I think that's all a good deal for everyone involved. I hope I get the opportunity to live up to these promises.

As it turns out, it's really and truly not the correct time for my obligatory 2ww freak-out.

I.must.remember that no HCG could possibly be in my system already, so it's fine that I have no pg symptoms (except for sore nips and fatigue, but that's because of the supps). So I'll post the chart I've seen online from time to time, just to remind myself of that.

1dpt ...Embryo is growing and developing
2dpt... Embryo is now a blastocyst
3dpt....Blastocyst hatches out of shell on this day
4dpt.. Blastocyst attaches to a site on the uterine lining
5dpt.. Implantation begins,as the blastocyst begins to bury in the lining
6dpt.. Implantation process continues and morula buries deeper in the lining
7dpt.. Morula is completely implanted in the lining and has placenta cells & fetal cells
8dpt...Placenta cells begin to secrete HCG in the blood
9dpt...More HCG is produced as fetus develops
10dpt...More HCG is produced as fetus develops
11dpt...HCG levels are now high enough to be immediately detected on HPT

I'm at around 6 or 7 dpt - not sure how to calculate dpt on a frozen cycle - so that means there's no way I'd be feeling anything yet. So I have reason to stay calm.

xmas

Well, the panic set in today. You knew that was gonna happen. I'm getting anxious about whether or not this worked. What worries me is that the embie was only a grade 2, 5-cell 'specimen.' But it did resume growing after the thaw, so that's the most important thing. See, I am trying to 'stay positive' (blech).

Christmas is simply the worst time of year for infertile women. First: it's about a baby. The product of a virgin birth, at that (divine artificial insemination in a manner of speaking, though, I suppose). Second (related to my first point): it's all about the kids. Babies, toddlers, children, and pg women are the centre of attention. It's what I dread. Plus I despise the commercial nature of the day. Buy, buy, buy. I like to shop, but not when I'm forced to do so because TV commercials say I have to empty my wallet.

And the season drags on and on for months. October to December.

At least I've had a reprieve this year. We're 2000 km away from family, so we had a laidback day. No presents, no decorations, no weather worries, and no pg nieces. It was nice. We went to see the new Jim Carrey flick, and it was ok. But I picked today, of course, to start worrying.

It's a weird time to be cycling, too. A bad time to be disallowed from coffee, chocolate, and booze! I've not been good on the chocolate front this time, as I like a chunk of fair trade chocolate every now and then. Whatever.

At least I got 1 Christmas during which I could treat myself as though I'm pg. More than I expected, and I'm glad for it.

Hope you all made it through the day.

i'm here

I'm back, sorta. Pls ignore typos. I'm using my ooooold broken computer, since my laptop's in the shop for 3 weeks. So no one has to wait 3 weeks for an up0date. lol
Things are ok sofar. Sore nips,and that's it for symptoms. Am wondering when to start testing. Not sure how many 'dpo' I am.
Merry Xmas and all that jazz!

slept all day

Slept all day. Something about retrievals and transfers wears me out. So I won't sleep tonight, but that is okay: I like being awake and knowing there's a real something in my uterus. Even if it is 'just' a 5-cell, grade 2 embryo. I never ever thought we'd get this far this time. Sorry to keep repeating myself, but I guess I'm still in shock.

DH is eternally optimistic. He says this will work; it has to because the due date would be on his birthday in September. Practically everyone in his huge family was born in September. (His SIL and I did the math one year, and realized that they all get knocked up around Christmastime - guess they're all trying to stay warm.) Siiiiigh. I told him not to get my hopes up. It's so hard not to feel optimistic, though, after all the hurdles we crossed. But I've got to rein it in. I can't stand being crushed like I was (and still am) last time. But, at the same time, I want to enjoy what I have, for however long it lasts.

No phone call!

No phone call!!! :) :) :)

I still can't believe it.

I set my alarm to 7:15 a.m. to drink my 3-5 glasses of water (which is highly unnecessary in my case, I might add). Well, I woke up at 7 to DH hovering in front of my face with a bottle of water, asking me anxiously if I'd woken up on time for it. Scared me to death. lol (See, I told you he really is sweet.) So I downed 3 glasses - there was no way I was doing 5 - and we cuddled in bed for a while before we got up for the day. DH prayed in a way I've never seen him before - he talked with such confidence. We are not pray-out-loud people, so that was interesting to hear.

Got to the clinic fine - the bad weather let up for today, though we're supposed to get dumped on again tomorrow. As soon as we stepped inside, the nurse apologized to me for not phoning with the embie report this morning. I didn't know that she was supposed to do that, so I was so relieved that she had been too busy to call - I told her I would've had a heart attack if I'd heard the phone ring. And I thanked her for not calling. lol She said that the embie was fine this morning, and growing; and the assisted hatching went well. I was dumbfounded with joy and gratitude, and couldn't really say anything.

The transfer was fine - they just sent me to the bathroom first, since I was overflowing. The doctor came in and gave me the official report (one 5-cell, grade 2 embryo), they verified all info, and started the process. Then we discovered that DH and I share the same prairie hometown as the doctor, so the three of us started talking loudly and excitedly to each other - my legs and vagina waving in the air - about heaps of snow, potholes, icy cold, mosquitoes, friendly people, and an off-kilter sense of humour (yeah, we love our hometown, though everyone here makes fun of it, it's a great place to live). The nurse and lab tech just kinda stared at us. lol

So the embie is in, and I got a picture of it. And that's that. I go in in two weeks for the beta.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you for all the prayers and well wishes and sujpport. I'm so grateful for everything, for all of this, to get a second chance.

Further to DH...

...being a pill, all is forgiven and forgotten.

Basically, any time I complain about DH, take it with a grain of salt. 99% of the time he's an angel. It's the other 1% that's tricky. lol So we fight, but then we get over it.

We got to the party, and DH's tune changed: he announced to everybody that he was there for the massive cheese platter (which was excellent, no doubt). When I said to him later, "I thought you came for the booze?," he looked at me as though I'd lost my mind. I think he had one glass of wine, total. But lots of cheese. What a guy.

I have to get up at 7 tomorrow to drink 3 glasses of water, and then head to the clinic for 9:15. As long as we don't get a nasty phone call in between. I'll keep you all posted.

DH...

...is busy having a temper tantrum because he can't have more than 2 drinks at his party tonight. WTH? He is not even a big drinker to begin with! He says I'm making him feel like a child for limiting his alcohol consumption. Again, WTH? He HEARD the RE say no more than 2 or 3 per WEEK. And I have to give up so much more, especially my vice, coffee. Plus I spend hours in the kitchen every night, cooking organic meals from scratch, trying to make his sperm healthy. I can't believe he's complaining about this. Besides, I said to him, if he's tired of being told what to do, try being me. He doesn't want me to pierce my ears, get a tattoo, or cut my hair short, and I've honoured those requests so far, since they seem to mean so much to him.

I explained what I know of the biology behind booze and sperm, but he's not interested. So I got really mad and said I REFUSE to let him make me feel guilty for this. He can be as mad as he wants; I don't care. He told me when I miscarried that he would do WHATEVER it took, and whatever I asked of him. I reminded him about that, and then I was done talking.

I will not let him make me feel guilty about this. It's really easy to make me feel bad, in case you can't tell - I grew up in a culture/religion that values martyrs. lol

thanks

I feel so grateful for my friends who read my blog, as whiny and angry and hopeless as I sound. Whether or not I know your names (or if you know mine...), I am so touched and grateful for you, and consider you my friends. I am glad to have listening ears out there. So thanks. You're all helping to keep me in one piece right now. And if I can ever reciprocate, please let me know.

I have a live embryo

The embie came out of freezing! I just found out!

The nurse said it's not a beautiful embryo by any stretch of the imagination, but still. Wow. So my transfer is scheduled for 9:45 a.m. tomorrow, and they'll phone me if the embie dies.

I have to try, again, not to get my hopes up now. I know this is such a long shot. I just phoned DH at work, and he was so happy to hear my voice. He's still coming home at noon, even though I didn't want him to, because we've got a winter storm and the roads are terrible. I don't know how we're going to get to his Christmas party tonight. And seriously, this is why people who live in warmer climates should never wish for snow: I am worried that the the embryologist and/or the doctors won't make it to the clinic tomorrow morning. Yes, the roads are that bad, and visibility is zero.

Anyway, I can't even tell any of my SC friends because my Facebook and Hotmail aren't working again. ARghhhhh.

Please, please pray for us, send my embie positive thoughts, anything. (Just no 'baby dust,' please. lol) I know what I say about God and prayer and all that, but we can't do anything tangible, so anything is better than nothing. Thank you.

waiting for the phone call

If every person's hell will be individualized to what they're most afraid of, or with what they can't deal with very well, mine could very well be waiting for the nurse's phone call. (I feel bad for the nurses to have to make those calls - they are very kind women, and it must be emotionally exhausting to deal with all the bad news. But then again, they all have children waiting for them at home, so whatever.)

DH is coming home from work at noon to wait with me, to hear whether our lone embryo is alive or dead.

I did a great job of staying calm during the last 10 days or so, as I wrote previously. But tonight all went to shit again, and I had crying fits almost all evening. I sat at the edge of the bathtub and screamed into my hands. I miss all my babies, and I can't wrap my head around the idea that we're thawing the last one tomorrow just to let her die. So I drank half a litre of wine, but that didn't help. Threw in a Vicodin, too, and now I'm calmer. Not sure what I'll do when the Vicodin runs out. Still can't find a family doctor, and without one, I can't get that kind of drug. I'm sure they'd want to put me on antidepressants, anyway, and I don't want that, on the off chance that we adopt - I can't have antidepressants on my record. Isn't that a stupid rule?

The most bizarre thing was laughing through my tears. Hawkeye on M*A*S*H still gets me every time. I don't even have to know what the one-liner was - I see him laughing, and then I laugh. I have been in love with him since I was 5 years old, seriously. And today, the weatherman was on TV, warning us all about ARCTIC-MAGEDDON temperatures - minus fifteen degrees Celsius. I screamed out laughing amid my crying because that was truly hilarious. -40 is cold. Not -15.

But I digress. DH says he's afraid he'll come home one day and I will have left him. He prayed yesterday - begging for a miracle. I don't know why we have to beg. We've been grovelling for years - I practically have scabs on my knees - and it's not as though this is some kind of special favour, like winning the lottery. What to believe? That God is in control? Well I think he is cruel, then, as well as incompetent. Should I believe, rather, that God is not at the helm of this, and that he grieves with me? I don't know; that's kind of like letting him off the hook. Should I believe that God is 'testing' me? He'd better not be because I am SICK OF THAT. I mean, look at Job in the Old Testament. He got tested for no good reason at all, imho. And then he gets 'rewarded' in the end, but at what cost??!! Look at all the dead bodies left in the dust (e.g., his dead spouse and children, animals, etc. - why did they have to pay for that 'lesson'? - no, it's all about Job). My theology is all messed up. It's hard for me to believe in God anymore. I don't want to stop believing - it's not as though I'm looking for reasons to ditch my faith - but this infertility crap really screws with all of that. And I know I'm not the only infertile woman who feels this way. If God is screwing around with me, he's definitely not a good judge of character. Because if he was sending me this tribulation in order to test my patience and to bring me closer to him, he'd've been better off caving in and allowing me to get pregnant (and to stay that way) last year, when I was still thankful, in some bizarre way, for the infertility (because it did teach me patience and a deeper understanding of parenting). Now I'm just so over it all. Done and done.

Shouldn't've scheduled this FET during the holidays. I'm sick to death of all the 'Christmas is about family' garbage (since a family is a family only if there are children, of course); I try hard to be good to my family, to friends, and to strangers all the time, not just at Christmastime. I'm also tired of the music about a miraculously-conceived child, the glut of consumption, the rude people in the stores, presents no one wants, and bad weather. Why can't we just all be nice to each other all year long? Why is it all reserved just for Dec 25?

DH's work Christmas party is tomorrow night. So I'll have a dead embryo, and a smile plastered on my face. Open bar, but I don't like getting drunk (contrary to what I must sound like on this blog), especially because I get silly, and I wouldn't want to embarrass him in front of his colleagues. So we are going home when I say so; DH was fine with that.

Wish me luck. I wish the same for you in return.

what if?

I've been in a more mellow mood during the last few days. I think my body's trying to calm my mind down, just in case a hospitable environment is needed on Saturday (the day after The Big Thaw). I didn't consciously try to come out of my misery; it is what it is. So I accept it. It's nice to not feel miserable. And to be able to get some work done.

Just keep thinking 'what if.' What if the embie doesn't die on Friday? What if it makes it to Saturday? I know it won't. The odds of it just surviving the thawing process are 50%. The chance of a clinical pregnancy with it is 13%. Unlucky 13. I was born on 13th day of July. Hm. Too bad I don't believe in that kind of stuff. But I still caught myself today thinking 'What if...?'

Today, the barista at my coffee place asked me what my sign was. I said Cancer. He said that meant that I was the great mother, and that I could be in charge of, and care for, everybody. (I have odd conversations with people whom I don't know. It's fun. lol) A sign? Hm. Again, I don't believe in horoscope-type stuff. But I still thought 'What if...?'

I hate that b!&^% Hope. :( I wouldn't say that I'm hoping, but I am still looking to Friday with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. After I get the phone call that the embie didn't make it, will I accept it, knowing that that was the most likely outcome? Or will I be devastated all over again? I don't know, and I don't know if I can cope with any more reasons to grieve.

There are a whole lot of thoughts resting on one frozen embryo, whom DH has named Katharina. It is suspended in time in a freezer two miles from where I am. I live in a high-rise apartment, the windows of which face the direction of my embryo. I look out the window, every day.

monitoring

I had the most tragic-comic start to the day. Ok, I live on the 35th floor of my building (in which the elevators are ALWAYS broken). So this morning I couldn't get any service at all. I waited 20 minutes for an elevator, then gave up and hoofed it down all 35 flights of stairs.

Then the weather worked against me. Hallmark Movie of the Week: 'The Infertile Woman Against the Elements.' (Except please do not get Tori Spelling to play my part.) The temp outside was actually lovely, but it was crazy windy and rainy. So I hobbled along on my jelly legs (going down stairs sounds easy, but I guess it's not, even though I am in shape) to the clinic, which is two miles away, and arrived, soaked and exhausted and 30 minutes late, for my booty call. lol

So, my lining is up to 10, which is great (and I am so grateful, since I know a lot of TTC'ers struggle with that). The doctor said he's guessing that my estrogen will have risen to an appropriate level, since I'm taking half of the Estrace vaginally (which is apparently more efficient), so he booked the FET. I start the progesterone tonight. Friday is the thaw, and if the embie survives - which is highly unlikely, I might add - the transfer is Saturday morning.

Apparently I have no follies, even though I'm on CD12. Not that it matters for an FET, but I'm concerned: how long will it take for my ovary to go back to 'normal' from the IVF drug assault?

Anyway, decided I would stop at a coffee shop for a few hours to dry out, wait for the elevators to be fixed, and read a thesis-related book. (And enjoy my last cappuccino until af arrives.) So I ordered my drink, sank into a lovely chaise, and then realized that I'd forgotten to pack my Estrace, and I needed to take two of them within an hour. I mentally cursed myself up and down, and now here I am at home, having fed my cervix with a little green pill. Lalala.

Oh, was going to say something about the Estrace. I saw green-tinged ewcm yesterday on the toilet paper, forgot I was on Estrace, and thought forlornly, "I really am a mutant." Then remembered that I'd shoved little green pills up there. lol DH is very grossed out by it all, so the only booty call I get is at the clinic. Haha.

Monitoring

First monitoring appointment. Lab tech almost made me tear out my hair when she said, "Well, you'll be waiting a while (*insert my stopped heart here*) .... no follicles yet." Um, I already said I was doing an FET, so thanks for the heart attack for nothing! (Am wondering, though, why there are no follies. That IVF really put my ovaries through the wringer.)

Anyway, got the blood and ultrasound done just before 8, and picked up the progesterone supps, just in case, since my lining is already at 9 mm (doc wants to see 8). The nurse also pissed me off when she chirped that the early morning monitoring sessions were "good practice for babies who cry all night." I was having none of that, and said sourly that I'd LOVE to be up all night and early in the morning for a baby, but not this waste of time. Can you tell I'm not a morning person? lol

Then DH decided that we needed to go shopping in Buffalo for the day, which was really great. I got a few tops on sale at Macy's, we had lunch at The Cheesecake Factory, etc. (Of course, I had to be privy to a fifteen-year-old girl's pregnancy announcement to her friends, right in the middle of the Macy's Christmas rush. And her friends all counselled her that she shouldn't have had unprotected sex ("just for the two days in the middle of your cycle! - any other day would've been fine!"). It was surreal. I didn't know if I should jump in to enlighten them or what. ???

DH insists that this cycle will work. He's getting the 'prayer team' (his sister and one of his brothers) on board, without actually telling them what it's about. He says we're having a girl, and that all of the excess estrogen running around will be the death of him; he'll most likely have to build an apartment above his garage and live there. I pleaded with him not to get my hopes up. I'm happy that he is hopeful, though. Just because hope doesn't live here anymore doesn't mean that I don't want others to feel it.

Now, the message from the clinic is that my estrogen level is at 1105 (I think?), which the nurse says is low, but not "too bad."So now I have to take half of my Estrace vaginally, to try boosting the number. Woo hoo, party in my cervix! Bring your own fluids! Haha.

my dh

Another reason to feel bad about being hard on DH:

His work buddies are having an all-evening Christmas party today, so I didn't expect to see him until late. But as I was walking home around 4'ish, he stopped beside me in his truck, and I hopped in. He was on his way home because all the guys were going to the strippers (for three hours before heading to a restaurant at 7), and he didn't want to go. Awwwwww...

And then before he left at 7, he put his head on my knee and whined that I was making it hard for him to go, and that he'd rather stay home with me. :)

Yeah, we've been married for over 8 years. The cashier at the coffee shop laughed in my face today when I referred to 'my husband' - she thought I was joking. I guess I look younger than I am. She thought I was around 24 or 25. So infertility hasn't aged me too much yet, at least not on the outside. lol

monitoring tomorrow

Had a relatively decent day - hurray.

Anyway, I have my first FET booty call (I call it that because of the dildo cam, aka: transvaginal ultrasound, which I hate - don't we all?) tomorrow.

I'm nervous because my ewcm disappeared yesterday, and so I'm wondering what happened to my estrogen. I've never done a frozen cycle before, and have never used Estrace, so I don't know what to think. I keep wondering if I somehow ovulated already and ruined everything. But I'm on CD 9, so that's way too early to ovulate! So where did all the estrogen go? I can't afford a delayed cycle - the clinic will cancel it, then! Urgh...

for my cyber-friends...

My laptop is still screwed up, so I can't send messages from hotmail or from my Facebook. :( So in case you've sent me a message in the last week or so and you're wondering where I am, I'm still here. It's so weird - I can see who has sent me messages, but I can't read them and can't respond.

the christmas letter i'd like to send to family

Annual Christmas Letter

Dear Family and Friends:

Wow, we can hardly believe that 2008 is almost over. What a crazy year!

January began with a bang, as my brother was, and is, still MIA, although he phones up my mom from time to time to harass her. Can't be good for dad's heart, but I'm sure he'll be fine.

Then, DH’s father passed away due to medical negligence. We flew home immediately when it was apparent that he was getting worse, and missed saying goodbye to him by 30 minutes. We buried him on a frozen Manitoba winter day – with the windchill, it was -56 degrees Celsius (-68.8 degrees Fahrenheit, for you Americans) – and our little nephew, who is four years old now, still believes that his granddad is playing an underground joke on all of us.

DH and I didn’t know what to do, so we flew to Cuba for two weeks. We tried to conceive naturally, as we’d been doing unsuccessfully for the past six years; of course, since we believed all of the profound life advice that people love to share, we just knew I’d get pregnant this time – after all, it was a horrible time of life and, on top of that, we were on vacation, ‘relaxing.’

Surprise! I got my period! And we celebrated by getting drunk and waiting for the RE to say – after a year-long delay - that we were finally ready to proceed with injectables and, yes, artificial insemination (for all you farm family members, break out the chuckles! – yes, just like you do to the pigs and cows!).

That first IUI cycle, which was around the April mark, turned out to be the only one we tried, as we found out that DH’s swimmers suck! He can’t get one past the goalie! Who knew? What a great sense of relief for me, as I found out I wasn’t the only ‘problem’! I could blame it on DH, poor guy! ;)

So the RE recommended IVF, and we cried for joy in her office upon hearing that news.

The IVF itself was so tightly orchestrated, so organic, so easy on the body and soul, so … sooooo. I mean, thank goodness it happened, anyway, just so that we’d have a place to spend that extra $10,000.

After overstimulating, we only retrieved 11 eggs. Most amusingly, DH’s swimmers went into hiding! It was so reminiscent of childhood to us, like an endearing game of hide-and-go-seek. Our hearts even pounded, wondering where those little normal spermies had gone! Ha ha! In the end, the sperm definitely beat us, those little buggers. Only five eggs fertilized, and two of them died on the third day, thanks to the bum sperm. We transferred two and froze 1. I tell you, since I know none of you have been through IVF before, there is nothing as romantic as the embryo transfer at the clinic, with a host of doctors and nurses and techs peering at your vagina, a light beaming down on you, your womb exposed on a screen, and your dear partner holding your hand. I mean, it’s such a group effort.

After a crazy two week wait, I discovered, with shaking hands and screaming heart, that I was pregnant. And then I lost it 3 days later. It was a comfort to learn that my body is healthy, though, and that my PCOS is not interfering with my reproductive capacity. It's that bum sperm. DH and I celebrated all of this news by taking a romantic vacation in Pennsylvania, and drinking a lot. I mean, if you’re not expecting, you may as well enjoy yourself, right?

In the meantime, I attempt to work on my thesis, even though I’m restless and I cry all the time. Isn’t that funny? – it’s the work I love to do the most, but can’t quite keep my mind on it. I’m sure there’s a good reason for it. Maybe we need another baby-making holiday. It’s so hard to decide on where to spend our money: a hot holiday or another IVF? You’re all right about our fabulous childfree lifestyle, in which we can pick up and go at every opportunity. We're so thankful.

Yes, that’s about where we’re at right now! Oh, I’m on a frozen cycle, and so I’m on estrogen for that. (Yes, my menopausal aunties, we’re on the same drugs, and I’m only 30! Isn’t that a riot?) Our embryo has a 50% chance of coming out of freezing in one piece. It’s like a glass half full, when I think about it. We have a 13% chance of clinical pregnancy with it, so I'm sure you'll get a happy phone call sometime in March to share our joy.

Ah, I almost forgot! The crème de la crème! The cherry on top of the Christmas cake! DH’s brother has cancer.

It’s all just too much, really, and we count our blessings at every opportunity. I guess we should get more Christmas spirit, since it doesn’t really show in our surroundings. We haven’t purchased any gifts, we don’t decorate anything, we haven't been to church in ages, we don’t send Christmas cards, and we don’t have any Christmas baking lying around. And no, we don’t have any ‘surprise’ news to spring on you on the 25th. But thanks so much for asking us about all of that at every opportunity. It lets us know that you care.

We hope that your year was as fabulous and action-packed as ours, and although it’s difficult to believe that 2009 could top it, we wish even more blessings for you in the coming 12 months.

Especially to my cousin, S-----, who will give birth at the same time that I was due. It’s a real gift to read about every piece of pregnancy news in your Facebook status updates, especially the sarcastic ‘Oh the joys of pregnancy/nesting/motherhood’ one-liners. My heart bleeds for you.

From our non-family to you and your family,

One-Hit_Wonder and DH

not sure where the line is (repost from 12/8/08)

From 12/8/08 (had to delete original and repost - long story):

Feel as though I'm losing my mind. I was afraid today that I'd need to go to a walk-in clinic because my sadness is debilitating. At what point do I need medical intervention? I don't know. I have a history of anxiety and depression (runs in my family - e.g., a close family member was just hospitalized for mental illness, my mom had to be on 'nerve pills' when she was a teenager, etc....), both of which flare up in certain contexts. Meaning that for me it's situational; e.g., once I had the teaching job from hell, and the resulting depression and anxiety were crippling. It hasn't been this bad since then - when the job ended - and that was 3 or 4 years ago.

I've lost everything. I've lost the one pregnancy I ever had (I should be 13 weeks pg, as of yesterday, and should be phoning my parents to tell them they're going to be grandparents), lost interest in my career (don't want to teach if I can't have my own children, since it's painful to care for other people's children), lost most of my faith in God (I'm terrified about dying), lost my chance to be a mother, lost my chance to be a grandmother, lost so many friends because of infertility (they're all parents, so we have almost nothing in common anymore), losing my closeness to DH (I just can't talk about this crap to him anymore, and I've got nothing else left to say), etc., etc.

Doesn't help that the one thing I was looking foward to - a group trip to Albuquerque in February to co-present our work at a conference - has been cancelled again. Just found out. No one's really interested in going, and/or they can't take the time off work/school, and/or they don't want to pay to go (even though they've had over a year to save up the $500 or so that the trip would cost). I'm so effing pissed off about it, too. They cancelled last year, too, because they felt that we were unprepared. Meanwhile, I am READY to present, plus I've paid the registration fees, I've arranged for my university to cover my costs, and it's the only thing in my life that I had going for me. Now I have nothing to look forward to.

I'm being crushed, physically and mentally. I feel as though I'm on uppers and downers at the same time - or Vicodin and espresso simultaneously - and it's disorienting and scary. DH wants me to talk to him, but I can't say anything. He prayed for me, and it made me feel worse. He mentioned his dad's funeral, just in passing, and then all I could think about were the kids that day - my three-year-old nephew wanted to be only with me, my 8-year-old niece held my hand the whole time, and my three-year-old great-nephew rubbed his cheeks all over mine and kissed my eyelids oh so gently. It was one of the worst days of our lives - burying my wonderful father-in-law - but I'll always remember those three dear children and how wanted and needed they made me feel. Wish I could have that in my life more than just once in a while.

Think I wore DH out - he went to bed at 8:30. I can't live this way, I said to him. I can't go on like this.

Can't find a family doctor, so if I still feel this way tomorrow, I'm not sure what I'll do. I could go to a walk-in clinic, but they won't prescribe any kind of drug that might help me. So what's that gonna help? Earlier, I drank myself into numbness, just so that I could get dinner prepared. I cooked enough food so that I don't have to worry about preparing dinners and lunches for a couple days. And now, I took a Vicodin and a Flexeril from my American stash, but I've got only about 12 Vicodin left and 3 Flexeril; I do need them for back/neck pain, and can't get them from Canadian doctors, so I should save them for pain flare-ups, but ... yeah. Vicodin evens out my mood temporarily, and I need to chill out, so there ya go. I never thought I'd become the self-medicating type, but you do what you've gotta do. I'll phone DH to come home if I feel bad; he's got a few sick days that he can use up before the end of the month.

I won't be on here for a few days - I've effed up my computer (my fault - downloaded something I shouldn't've, so it's full of viruses), and it's gotta get fixed. Sucks, too, since writing is what fuels me these days (my thesis and this blog), and now I can't have that, either. Handwriting isn't the same - I don't know if I've got some kind of disability in that area, but I have a hard time writing by hand - the letters my hand writes often aren't the ones that my brain wants. I have no problem typing, though. Weird. Anyway, I'll be back in a day or two.

In the meantime, I'll obsess about my physical symptoms, I guess. The Estrace is making my estrogen zoom, so I've got ewcm already, even though af isn't even finished yet. I have my first monitoring appointment on Saturday morning, so we'll see what my lining looks like and what my estradiol is at. Talk to y'all later, and thanks for reading. I'm very appreciative of the people who read my blog.

male infertility

Apparently good dental hygiene can help improve sperm parameters: htttp://parenting.ivillage.com/ttc/ttcprep/0,,456x,00.html

I've brought this up to DH, but haven't pressed the issue. I'm embarrassed to say this here - and he'd kill me if he knew I was writing about this - but he's not really concerned about his teeth. He doesn't go to the dentist, etc. Which is a crime, really, because his teeth are perfectly formed and straight.

But, if regular dental care would make a difference in his swimmers' quality... (?)

stuff

Af has gone easy on me this time. I thought she'd dropkick my ass, considering that she'd avoided me for two months. But I've had no cramps (I always cramp up bad on CD1), and had an even lighter flow than usual. I wonder if it's gone easy because of the Chinese medicine? I'm not going to see my TCM doctor until the 23rd, so maybe I'll e-mail her to ask. Anyway, it's the 4th day of Estrace, and no side effects, thank goodness.

Other than that, went to an AHL hockey game tonight, and was miserable because everyone was there with their 4-, 5-, and 6-year-old kids. 'Family time' for everyone except DH and me, since we're not considered by western standards to be a family in and of ourselves. I'm sure you all know what I mean when I say that. It's worse in this particular month, too, because of Christmas. Again, not telling you something you didn't know.

DH says he thinks...

...that the embie will live, and that we'll have a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes (like me).

I told him not to get his hopes up. Apparently he is not a vet yet, but maybe that's a good thing. Someone's gotta be strong for me; I've been strong for everyone else for so long.

semi-normal day

Had an actual semi-normal day, even despite the presence of af, and was teary-eyed only twice.

Dh and I got our blood drawn at the IF clinic, since our infectious diseases panels had expired, and then we splashed out on non-organic food: pizza, chicken wings, naughty desserts, and margaritas.

Rented 4 movies; got through Prince Caspian (his choice, not mine), and I fell asleep at various points - it's a crime that the Narnia series was made into films! I love the books so much, even though they're misogynistic and they make fun of vegetarians. lol

more about mf

Daytime was lovely. Met my thesis advisor/boss and fellow research assistant at a bistro for lunch, and then my advisor and I went shopping for a bit at Holt Renfrew's (we looked for underwear and makeup - lol - we don't have a typical advisor/advisee relationship) and walked through the University of Toronto campus.

She and I talked about my infertility issues - she went through infertility in the '80s - and she was lovely about it, as always. It is odd to talk to someone in person about what I've gone through. Even weirder to be talking about sperm and cervical mucous to someone who's technically my boss/advisor. But she is not like every other professor - she never talks down to students and she's brilliant, so I love her. lol

My fellow research assistant, who is Mediterranean, is cool, too. She told me today that I have a southern European (i.e., Portugese, Italian) sensibility, not Canadian. She asked me, then, why my reputation around our university is that of a cool and distant person, unapproachable. She told me that she doesn't understand this, and so she tells everyone what I'm really like, and the things she proceeded to say about me were so very nice.

I get that a lot - people thinking I'm a snob. I'm really not; at least, I don't think I am. I'm super-shy, for one thing; almost paralyzingly so. Also, I am an oddball, and I'm aware of that, so sometimes I don't talk because I know certain kinds of people will dismiss me as an airhead, and I'm not. The other thing is that I live in my dreamworld - I have a rich interior life, and often forget to pay attention to the 'real' world. So I guess I come across as distant, until you get to know me, and then I'm a good friend. ;)

Anyway, things went downhill after that. There was no particular trigger; I just got sad, sad, sad. Picked up my Estrace, went home, and was quiet all evening. It was a long night. Finally DH tried to take my laptop, then yelled something about wanting to spend time with me, and stormed off to bed. I let him cool down a bit, and then went into the bedroom, and we talked (we weren't fighting, and he wasn't really mad - that's just how we communicate sometimes during a frustrating situation).

He wants me to talk, especially when I'm sad, because otherwise my sadness makes him feel guilty, as though he's done something wrong, like forgetting to do the dishes or something. But I can't talk - as I said to him, what else can I say without hurting him? I said I feel like life is too long and I wish it were over.

He thinks that what needs to change next time is more prayer, more church, more Bible-reading, etc. I'm inclined to think that that won't make a difference. This infertility business has shot my spiritual beliefs to hell, and when I grieve for my missing children, I'm grieving for my missing faith, as well. If he wants to pray, go to church, etc., I will do it, though.

He offered to 'step aside,' but I don't want another guy. I want to raise a child with him - I think we'd be good together. :(

He asked about adoption, but that's not for us, for dozens of reasons.

I did broach the donor subject - very tentatively - and let him talk. He says he'd feel ashamed every time he saw a baby that wasn't 'his,' since he didn't get the job done, and it's his fault. I did say: So if one person can't have a genetic link to a baby, the other person can't, either? (He didn't seem offended by this.) I reassured him that the sperm thing wasn't his fault - I mean, it's not as though he screwed up his swimmers on purpose. And we left it at that.

Usually he will come around to things that are important to me, even if he is vehemently opposed at first. I'm hoping that this will happen here. We'll give it all we have with our own genetic material, first. For now, he just asked for 3 or 4 months before trying another IVF - to lose weight, keep eating healthy, taking the extra vitamins and supplements, etc. Yes, of course.

After that, if we face more disappointment, I don't know what we'll do. I don't know how to live with so much pain.

the brat that i am

Ok, my bratty episode of FB status-manipulation has backfired on me. *Siiiiigh* The only people who commented/e-mailed were my fellow infertiles, so that makes me feel bad. And my DH says that I am definitely not getting lobster ravioli or champagne this weekend. So my childish episode is over. lol

To console myself, I've made carrot cake with cream cheese frosting (all organic, whole grain, etc.). And it tastes delightful. I don't like chocolate (yes, I told you I'm odd), but I'm very fond of 'old granny' desserts like date squares, apple pie, homemade doughnuts, lemon meringue pie, etc.

Anyway, af didn't start today by my clinic's standard (must have gotten a heavy flow by 4 p.m.), so tomorrow counts as CD1, and the first day of Estrace. Must remember to pick the drugs up.

Also, didn't go to the support group, after all. I don't feel that it'll do me much good (so DH said not to worry about it). I mean, what could be said that hasn't been said before? And if anyone told me to keep my hopes up, I don't know how I'd react, and I couldn't be held responsible for any damages. I don't know. Probably, if the group is led by a capable and sensitive facilitator, my relationship could stand to benefit from the meetings. I mean, DH doesn't talk to me about our situation - he just listens to me blather on about it - but he'd be more likely to speak with other people around, particularly since most of them would be in a similar situation. Maybe we should give it a chance? I'll ask DH if he wants to try a January meeting - we can always leave if we don't like it.

In the meantime, I'm off to Toronto tomorrow for a meeting - maybe I'll get some shopping in. Must buy new underwear, since I am in fact allergic to almost all my current undies. Ok, now I'm just talking nonsense.

ok, this is a fun thing to do

Make fertile people feel jealous because of my fabulous child-free, jet-setting, powdered diamond-snorting lifestyle. Ha.

So for 'shits and giggles' (as my DH would say in his deliciously uncouth way), I just wrote the following on my Facebook status: One-hit_wonder "wants lobster ravioli and champagne. Maybe this weekend... :)"

I know some of my friends and cousins are going to e-mail me complaining that they can't do the same thing because they don't have a baby-sitter, don't have enough money, can't drink cuz they're knocked up, blah blaaaaaaaaaaaaah. HAhahahahahaha.

(Uh, but I see that one of my dear friends from SC has commented on my status, and if you're reading this, you know you don't count in my make-fertiles-jealous campaign because you're a turtle, and so I luv you too much, you know!)

I tell you, I'm a mean and nasty person.

Things to avoid

I e-mailed my TCM doctor, since af seems to have arrived, and said I thought we'd try the FET on our lone frostie, if the clinic isn't already booked up.

She said I should continue my medications (they're mostly to restore good circulation and to warm my body), and said I'm supposed to:

• eat lots of red meat (barf), seafood, and two eggs every day (1 in the morning and 1 in the evening)
• stop heavy exercise
• listen to nice music, like CBC Radio 2
• avoid unpleasant things, like the news (and how can I do that? - have you seen the Canadian political soap opera lately?)

She said, as well, that I should think positive. (Of course.) Can't remember the other stuff, and can't get into my e-mail account to check it. I've buggered up my laptop somehow.

I guess I should phone the clinic to say that af has begun. And pick up the meds, and all that jazz. Blah, wonder how I'm gonna pay for this. We also have to repeat our infectious diseases panel, since our previous results have expired.

We'll be at the clinic tonight, as well, since the monthly support group meets today. We've never gone before; I'm going only for DH's sake. If anyone tells me to think positive, I'm outta there.

Back to 'avoid unpleasant things.' Here is a preliminary list of things to avoid, then:

• the newspaper (my paper of choice is featuring appalling details of court cases involving child abuse and murder, so can't look at that)
• home (which is 2000 km away, thank goodness)
• Facebook (baby updates and ultrasound pics in every woman's status, and when they write on my wall,they leave behind their u/s pics for me to see every time I look at my FB - yay)
• malls (new mommies pushing prams around and bitching about their lost figure and lack of coin and lack of sleep - aw, so sad)
• TV (there is not ONE thing on right now that doesn't involve babies and/or pregnancy and/or 'family' talk, especially since it's Christmastime)
• telephone (inevitable talk about all my friends and cousins who are expecting)
• Disneyland (unfortunately, since DH and I were tossing around the idea of going there later this month - it's a cheap vacay)
• my iPod (unless I lose all the depressing music on it)

So the gym is safe, but I'm not really supposed to work out. What else? A hoity-toity (sp?) organic fair-trade coffee shop, as long as I ignore the stacks of newspapers ready for perusal. Oh, and must avoid coffee, so that's a problem. Um... An R-rated flick at the movie theatre, but I don't really care for movies. And R-rated films aren't going to be calming. lol (Any suggestions for movies, by the way? I do think I want to see Twilight - though, most shockingly, I haven't read the book yet.)

Guess I've gotta insulate myself somehow, though, to give our '13%-chance-of-working' frostie a shot.

In the meantime, DH's new vitamins and supplements arrived in the mail, so I'll get him started on all that today. I don't expect that they'll make a difference, but I guess it doesn't hurt to try it out.

Ciao for now,

One-hit_wonder

Today

I was working today at a coffeeshop; it's about a 30 minute walk from our apartment. I like to work on my thesis there - the atmosphere is usually calming for me. I order a coffee (oops, not supposed to be drinking that), and then usually a tea, and they don't kick me out, so it's all good. I've made friends with one or two of the baristas, as well. But I had to leave after an hour today. Just couldn't take it. My mood takes a downturn, my body feels heavy, and I feel tears coming on. All I do is look at clocks, watching seconds tick by, waiting for my life to end. So it was time to go. I didn't want to leave - what was I going to do at home? Get into a crying fit and upset DH for the zillionth time?

When does it get better? When will I stop having these meltdowns? I thought time was supposed to heal all wounds, blah blah. It's not getting better; it's getting worse.

I managed to pull myself together without leaking more than a few tears - I made an intricate dinner to distract myself - before DH came home. He remarked that I seemed ok today; I said that I wasn't in the afternoon, but it was better. At least we ate well, even better than usual.

Speaking of which, the organic kick is going quite well, except we can't go to restaurants (wahhhhh!). And that it's expensive. And we have to eat seasonally (but that's better for the environment, and I'm down with that). And that we have to ease up on dairy and meat (I don't mind meatless meals, though). And that I spend nearly all my spare time in the kitchen, cooking everything from scratch and cleaning all the extra dishes. :(

Despite all the shortcomings, I do like the diet. The milk is great - it tastes almost like the raw milk we grew up on. We love the organic cereals - there's a brand made with hemp and granola that is super-tasty. I've been making a lot of nasi goreng (Indonesian fried rice), using medium-textured tofu along with eggs (no meat), and that is delish beyond delish. I could eat that all day.

Today I made a 'Mexican' (using that term loosely, as I know this isn't Mexican) cornbread casserole. I fried up a pound of lean hamburger with a bunch of black beans, onions, canned tomatoes, and homemade HOT red enchilada sauce (plus salt and pepper, etc.). Layered cheese on top of that. Then I mixed cornbread dough with diced jalapeno peppers, homemade creamed corn, and sour cream; slapped that on top. Baked it for half an hour and served it with salsa and the leftover creamed corn. V.v. good. And hey, even though it took ages to prepare, at least my frame of mind was a bit better.

Today, part II

Went to my TCM doctor today, and she says that my kidney stagnation is about 80% better than when I began treatments, but that she still sees some fire on it. (She says that the fire could be attributed to any number of things, including diet and past medications.) This correlates to what I've seen in my body, including less back and neck pain, plus sleeping is becoming a bit easier, except for when I'm having TTC-related meltdowns. So I can stop taking the nasty and expensive teas, and start the generic pills, hallelujah.

(Of course, she had to mention her agony over deciding for sure if she would have another baby in 2009. She wanted to know what I thought about it. Why do fertile people do this to infertile people? I don't know. It's like bragging about your steak and baked potato and beer to a starving homeless person. I didn't answer, so finally she stopped talking about it. *Rolls eyes* She's great, but why did she have to bring that up?)

I also got acupuncture - yummy. Love it. Dozed off intermittently, and strange images flashed in front of my eyes. (Reminded me of my nightmare last night, though, in which I dreamed that all of my teeth, except for three molars, fell out. I used to get that kind of dream quite frequently.)The only image I remember is that of a red flower in the middle of either a hallway or a road, and the light was soft all around.

Any dream interpreters out there? Can you help me with the teeth thing, or with the flower? Apparently falling-out teeth often means death. Hurray. I don't know about the flower. Maybe af is on her way? Or am I being too literal?

About a week after I miscarried, I had a vivid dream. It was a beautiful sunny day. I was with my identical twin sister (I don't have a sister in real life). We are both pregnant with triplets. We're hanging out outside; we both feel as light as air; we're happy. I posted this on a dream interpretation site, but didn't feel confident about the responses. I do believe that most dreams are trying to tell us something, but I don't think it's safe to take them literally.

Anyway......if you are a regular reader, you may have noticed by now that I never stay 'on-topic.' lol

Today, part 1

Sorry I create such boring titles for my posts. I'm not a 'title' person. I often forget to add a title to my academic work, too. lol

I don't think DH and I are doing that well, still. We were tense all evening, for a zillion little TTC-unrelated things. Just now before he went to bed, he asked if the roses he'd bought made me happy. (He's been asking similar questions for the last few weeks: "Does ____ make you happy? I did ____; does that make you happy?" Etc. My answer every time: "I'm not happy, but thank you for trying.")

He asked if we could go to the monthly support group that's run by our clinic; it's being held on Wednesday. We meant to go in November, but missed the date. I wanted to go, initially, but now I don't really care. What difference will it make? But he said that it was important to him, so I agreed that we'd attend. He's not a 'therapy' kinda guy, so ok, if it's important to him, all right.

I got a creepy feeling about it all. Beneath the surface, I sense bleakness, an unsettling feeling. There's so much unsaid between us, and I felt it haunting us as he lay in bed and I sat beside him, in the dark.

Why I'm horrible and mean.

In case you want to know more about how horrible I am for resenting DH for my current baby-less state: on Thursday, he (a MAN'S man if you ever saw one) bought roses for me; he also included a card and wrote a beautiful message inside it. When he gave it all to me, he hugged me and said, "Let's go buy some plants and flowers to have around here; everything is so dead." (Um, he's not a plant or flower kind of guy, although his dad sure was. He's also not a 'writing' person, in stark contrast to me.) I was touched, to state the obvious.

Plus, after my weekend meltdown, he decided he was going to buy a puppy for me. (The turnaround of all turnarounds - we're both 'farm kids,' and mostly not into the idea of indoor animals, although he's more opposed to it than I am.) I said no, that was ok (I don't have any experience with indoor pets, so I don't know if I'd be good with that), but I'm still kicking the idea around in my head. I'm so lonely - maybe a dog and I would be good for each other.

DH is trying so hard to help. He keeps asking what he can do, and I'm silent. What can I say? I want a baby, but I can't have one. I don't want to make him feel even worse than he already does. I don't know how to tell him I'm intensely and everlastingly bitter toward him about withholding something I need, but that I don't love him any less, if that makes any sense at all.

So since the day that the doctor mentioned the idea of using donor for half of my next batch of eggs, I haven't broached the subject. I know that if I kept bringing it up, he would eventually give in, and I don't want him to feel coerced. I think that that would damage our relationship, as well as hurt any potential child.

DH said fiercely that he could not love a child who was not 'his.' I respect his position on that, but I find it difficult to believe that he wouldn't love a baby we could achieve with the help of donor sperm. He's incredibly loving toward all children; kids gravitate to him. We never go anywhere together without him playing little games with the children he meets. He's the favourite uncle. He phones many of his nieces and nephews regularly to check up on them and to pound on them with tough love, when necessary, and the older ones have occasionally lived with us when they needed somewhere to go. Blah blah, it's all a cliche, I know (i.e., the silently infertile Favourite-Aunt-and-Uncle).

I realize (as much as I can, considering my non-existent experience) that a pregnancy with donor would be a different situation than all that, of course. I can't imagine being a man and watching my partner have a child with no biological connection to me. I don't know what that's like, but it seems pretty clear that there'd be a lot of issues to work through for both parties involved, not to mention friends, family, and the child her/himself. (My apologies if any of my readers have used donor - I'm sorry if I'm shooting my mouth off here.) But I can say that my DH would adore the child; I know this to be true.

Anyway, to return to my main point, I am a hideous soul for being mad at him (plus a liar for hiding my feelings). But maybe I redeem myself by not forcing the 'issue' (ha ha, no pun intended) on him? I am trying to be a good partner, but it's been tough lately. :(

Black Friday for American Infertiles

This is brilliant: http://murgdan.blogspot.com/2008/11/infertile-black-friday.html

What's bugging me today...

...is petty, I know.

DH and I want to go on a hot holiday. We'd never done that before last Feb, when we flew to Cuba on an all-inclusive holiday. DH really needed the time spent elsewhere, as his father had just passed away. And Cuba was indeed fabulous; he's said a few times that that vacation came along at the right time. We went to Varadero, Havana, Santa Clara, Cienfuegos, and Trinidad, plus some of the stunning countryside. What an amazing country, with amazing people. I learned a lot of Spanish, too, which was cool.

DH has got a week off at Christmas - and I'm a grad student, so my schedule is flexible - so we are desperate to go away, especially since we're in eastern Canada for the time being, where flights are cheap in comparison to our prairie homeland.

Normally, we'd have the means to pay for this. He makes a decent living in trades, and I've been government-supported for the duration of my degree.

But not now. IF, as I'm sure you all know, has drained our wallets. It takes up all of my income, plus much of DH's.

Wah, wah, I know. Boo hoo for us. At least we have a decent apartment, good food, etc., etc. More than most of the world has. We know, and we're grateful. Very grateful.

It's just that 2008 has left us emotionally bankrupt. Empty arms, my brother is still missing, death of DH's father, unsuccessful IUI plus new male factor diagnosis, IVF, miscarriage, my dear father is developing severe health problems, and BIL has terminal cancer. It's a colossal understatement to say that we're looking forward to 2009.

We love going away. We are explorers. We like to see how different people live. We reconnect while we're away. It's a pity that we'll be stuck at home, in blah Canadian weather, with no family around and nothing to do.

At least I won't have to deal with children. As much as I adore my in-laws' kids and grandkids, it's so much to handle for me, especially during the holidays. As if I need the reminder that I'm already a great-aunt four times over, and not a mother yet.

I'm being a suck, I know, but I wanna go somewhere warm and think about nothing for a whole week!

...

God is tearing my life apart. So THANKS, big guy.

Now that the problem is male factor, and not me so much, there's not ONE THING I can do about not having a child. Yeah, I can put DH on vitamins and supplements. I can scour the internet and the library and the bookstores for information. I can get him to exercise and to eat organically. I might even be able to get him off booze (the little bit that he does drink) and junk food, and to make sure that he doesn't take hot baths.

But I know it won't do anything. Science doesn't know much about male factor, in the first place, and especially very little about morphology, which is DH's biggest problem (although motility is horrendous, too).

Oddly, I was somewhat relieved last spring when we found out that PCOS was not only to blame - it was mf, too. Some of the pressure was off. But since then I've discovered that PCOS isn't really to blame in my case, since it's all controlled, except for one wonky ovary. The other ovary works. My lining is good. Bloodwork is normal. I'm at a healthy weight. I don't smoke and hardly ever drink. Etc., etc.

So now this is a different game. I can tell DH feels horribly guilty. And I feel like the worst person in the world for saying this, but I'm bitter toward him. Not because of the mf - I know he can't help that. But because he won't even consider donor sperm. Our RE recommended, for the next fresh cycle, doing half DH's swimmers and half donor, but DH flatly refused. I'm more open to it.

If the problem lay solely with me, I would go for donor eggs in two seconds. Hard? YES. But I'd do it, since we both want children so much. So yeah, I'm bitter that he wouldn't consider doing the same from his end. I feel that he is withholding something from me and from our marriage.

I thought that we wanted to be parents together. He says he'd sooner adopt than go with donor. But if we could have a child who had at least one genetic link to us, then why not go that route? Why deny me the genetic link just because he can't have it, too?

He's got loads of nieces and nephews. His mom is a grandmother and great-grandmother many times over. My family has none. My youngest brother is MIA (long story), and if he has any kids, we don't know about it. My middle brother and his wife don't have children yet, but I've wondered if they won't have IF problems, too, since she has problems with her af. (They're going to start trying in the next 6 months or so, which is painful to know, anyway.) My parents would love to have grandchildren, and my brother wants to be an uncle very badly, but it may not happen. Makes this even harder, since I'm healthy and apparently fertile, but I can't do ONE THING about it.

So today DH and I are fighting. I thought this m/c thing was supposed to get easier, but it doesn't; it just gets harder. I couldn't sleep last night; just panicking about my life and about what to do. Then just now, we were on our way to buy groceries when a STUPID Alan Jackson song came on about a 'southern man' and how his greatest contributions were his 5 children (1 of whom was 'unplanned,' of course). I said bitterly that by that standard, I have nothing to give. DH got mad, and then I got mad and started crying, so here we are, back in our apartment. DH is lying on his bed in our room, and I'm in the living room, typing this.

It's horrible that I'm bitter toward him, I know. I can't imagine how difficult it would be to consider using another man's sperm to impregnate your own wife, so I don't even try. I do know how hard it is to learn that you are reproductively screwed, though. This is all so stupid.

So God is tearing my life apart, and I hope he's happy. I am married to a great guy, but things are falling apart because we want a child and can't have one. It's a dark joke.

Decided

Who knew that one teeny tiny little white object could become the source of such anguish? We TTC'ers, that's who! Methinks that I should write an ode to Provera. In the meantime, I just popped the top of the container and downed one pill. Enough thinking; we need more doing.

I wonder what women did BP (before Provera) to induce af. Surely they knew what to do (I've heard that parsley can get things moving, but I've never tried it). So much of that knowledge has been lost, most unfortunately. But don't get me started on that topic unless you want to read a feminist rant about western history! lol

To Sweetmomi: Hi! Sorry, you commented, and I lost it somewhere. But I have decided, thanks for asking! I am The Decider, a la George Bush! Hehe. I am neurotic and have had too much icewine today.

False alarm!!!

Noooooo!!!

*Pouts*

The Charge: The thing is, with PCOS (as most of you already know) you have to expect weird bleeding (or non-bleeding). I can go for months without af - and have gone up to a year without being on the rag - and then suddenly hemorrhage for 3 weeks straight. However, I saw spotting, and assumed that af was finally arriving.

The Conviction: I'm obviously a dummy, as I don't learn from experience when it comes to my cycles: I never learn to expect the unexpected.

The Defence (which comes too late, of course, in honour of the spirit of PCOS-style menstruation): Well, your Honour, my cycles were becoming more and more 'normal' over the past 3 or 4 years. *Sits on her couch and pouts*

Sentence: More waiting!. Urgh.

Sorry, the courtroom-style post is lame, I know. I don't even know how court proceedings go, since I don't watch Law and Order. Haha.

I know, I know what you're thinking...

Ok, she stops posting for half a year, and then suddenly she posts 3x/day? Wth? She sounds like an obsessive personality, and perhaps I should step away from her blog, just in case her Ebola-baby-rabies makes my own case of it even worse...

I wish to reassure you that I am just a regular Jane. Whatever that means. I have something of an obsessive personality, even where TTC is not concerned, but everyone's got tics. (Just because I do not allow my food groups to touch each other on my dinner plate doesn't mean anything, contrary to what my DH believes.)

Anyway, I just had to post an update. I'm spotting. So, unless my flesh is playing a nasty trick on me (which is possible - I am really hoping that this is not just breakthrough bleeding), that's the first time in my recorded history that I had an anovulatory cycle (I know, boo hoo for me). Usually, even if a cycle does drag out for months and months, I will ovulate before the old gal shows. Anyway, I guess the Provera issue is put to rest. Now I just wonder if it was the Chinese medicine and acupuncture that did it?

If I were not a vet, I'd be wondering if I should POAS in the morning. You know, 'implantation bleeding' and all. Alas for any eager readers out there, I will not. To me, any pregnancy that didn't result from IVF is just an urban myth. Science fiction, if you will. I've had too much unprotected sex with too few BFPs to believe otherwise.

Back to regular programming: To FET or not to FET? (to borrow a hackneyed quotation)

I have to decide by midnight if I want to do the FET, using our one frostie (with its 13% chance of success), before the clinic closes until January. Why tonight? Because I'd have to start the Provera in, like, an hour, since otherwise I will be riding an indefinite cycle until I hit menopause, probably. *Grooooooan* What to do, what to do?

Have I mentioned that I'm on a time crunch? Must try to get infertility treatments in by June, because that's when we're moving back to my pathetic province with its pathetic lack of infertility care. The next time I'd be able to cycle would be the summer of 2010, and I'd have to fly to another province.

I don't know if my body feels ready, though, for the FET. Or my heart. And then there's always the money question...

An explanation

I need to explain what I wrote in a previous post, namely the following:

I can’t take ‘newbie-isms’ anymore, such as:

(((HUGS)))
I’ll pray for you!
Just think positive!
It only takes one!
It will work!
I have a good feeling about this!
You will be a mother someday!
God wouldn’t put this desire in our hearts if he weren’t going to fulfill it!
*Baby dust!!!*

I bought into most of this stuff for years – as I said, I was once a newbie, too – but I’m finished with it, and felt this way even before the first IVF. I don’t actually get mad about people saying they’ll pray for me – I appreciate that, still – but I can’t take the other comments. I feel more on the vet side of things now. Yet I haven’t gone through nearly as much as a vet.

I don't want my friends and readers to feel bad for similar things that they may have said to me. The thing is that anyone who feels bad is likely not someone I would 'blame' in the first place. I don't know how to explain what I mean. Hm... It's the people who don't get what we're going through (e.g., fertile people and often people who've just begun TTC treatments) who should think before saying things like "Just believe and it will happen." I hope that makes sense. It's a weird thing to try to explain.

I don't mind being prayed for, truthfully, although I don't know what to believe about God at this point. Oh, and to be perfectly honest, I don't mind hugs. ;) So here is a (HUG) for you all.

Ways in which to torture thy infertile self: TV edition

Watch the following TV shows and commercials:

1. Jon and Kate + 8

2. 17 Kids and Counting

3. that stupid Brooke Shields mini-van commercial

4. Bringing Home Baby

5. A Baby Story

6. any ClearBlue commercial involving sophisticated technology that you pee on

Bah, brain freeze. These are just the most obvious ones I can think of right now.

I'm reminded of that TV show in the Netherlands (aka: Holland, aka: Cheese-Windmill-Pot-Tulip-RedLightDistrict-land). I lived there for a year. Anyway, the show was kinda like A Baby Story, in which all the details of birth were broadcast to the nation, except it contained fewer blurred effects on anatomical areas. This was shown at suppertime, on a major network. It was considered a family show. Interesting. Can't remember what it was called. I wonder how infertile Netherlanders dealt with watching that. I imagine that they'd be more vocal about their infertility, given what I learned about their general temperaments, but I don't recall meeting any infertiles there. They are mega-healthy people.

Anyway, how did I get from Jon and Kate to Dutch infertiles? I'm going to bed.

can't sleep - Christmas season banging me on the head

Last Christmas, I swore up and down that that was the last childless winter. Something had to give. I said to DH, "Next Christmas, I will either be expecting or I'll have just given birth. I swear this to you. This is the last Christmas with just the two of us."

We are inundated with children at DH's family get-togethers. I don't even know offhand how many nieces and nephews and great-nieces and great-nephews we have. Wherever the young ones play, I see the spaces where my children should be. If I'd gotten pregnant fairly soon after I first started trying, we'd have a child in kindergarten this year. Plus maybe another one or two babies, if we were so lucky. So lucky.

Last Christmas was the final one we spent with DH's father before he passed away. He never got to see his youngest son become a father. He cried when DH told him we weren't able to have children.

I guess I have to break that vow to DH. Yes, I should have been expecting during the holidays. Should've been passing to the second trimester. Should've been thinking excitedly about Christmas 2009 with a baby or two in our arms. Instead, I'll be in the current state of barrenness (oh I hate that word). Cursing at the TV for all its scenes of joyful family togetherness. Since no one considers a family of two to be a real 'family.'

Here's what would have to happen in order for me to be pregnant by Christmas (excluding, of course, 'natural' conception):

1. ovulation
2. af
3. successful thaw of embryo
4. successful embryo transfer
5. BFP

Fat chance. I still haven't ovulated since I miscarried in early October. And af has to arrive in the next 10 days for me to be able to get the FET in before the clinic closes for the holidays. Plus the embryo would have to actually make it out of the freezing process (from what I hear, there's a 50-50 chance of that - and a 13% chance that I'll actually achieve a clinical pregnancy, which is better than the current .2% chance, but still...).

I'm thinking there's no chance, really, since our embie quality was not hot. DH's sperm don't appear to be willing to drive embryonic development, which puts a damper on things. I don't know what the point of the FET is, really, since I don't believe that the frostie will survive (and listening to anyone tell me to think positive won't help, sorry). And it's so much money. I'd rather save up and start a fresh cycle in spring, and keep that last embie as a last resort. I want to be pregnant NOW, so I want to use whatever will give me the best odds. DH wants to do it, though, and our clinic says it's not ethical for them to do a fresh cycle before finishing a frozen. Blah, blah. I think I'm looking for a new clinic.

So I don't know. I have an open tab on Provera, pretty much, so I could break into that bottle, but I don't know. Maybe I should just let my body reset itself, no matter how long it takes. And I don't think my Chinese doctor would really want me to take Provera. She's added an af-inducer to my thrice-daily regime of odd-tasting tea. Maybe it's working. It's possible. I did feel my left ovary tingle today, on and off (I do always feel ovulation pain), so maybe it's gearing up to try spitting something out, even though any forlorn eggie would be way past its expiration date. I don't have ewcm yet, though, and I usually get that for 4 or 5 days before I ovulate. *Siiiiiiiigh*

See, the thing is, too, that we're on a time crunch for this cycling crap. We're moving in June or July to my home province - the one with crappy infertility care. So if I want more IVFs after that, I'd have one opportunity each year - during my summer vacation - and I'd have to travel out of province. I don't even know how DH would get the time off from work.

So yeah, Christmas sucks. I hate it and I wish it were over. And people wonder why I don't decorate for the holidays. Or why I don't do Christmas baking. Ok, primarily because I am not so much of a domestic person, and although I am artistic, I don't think I'm really 'crafty.' But really, I don't do it because who would I doing it for? Thank goodness we're not going home this Christmas (it costs waaaaay too much to fly that time of year). Excellent timing there, at least.

Ugh, that's all I can write right now. Too much for me.

Shopping: An Expensive Distraction

Went shopping today. DH took a pre-planned sick day so that we could cross the border, eat brunch at IHOP (we've got nothing like it where we live), and then go shopping. It was pretty nice. I'm a clothing fiend, so I picked up some cute tops at Macy's and Target. Plus boots and a Free People winter scarf, since my Chinese doctor says that I DO NOT dress warmly enough for late fall/early winter. I scoffed at this notion, since I'm in eastern-ish Canada, and I'm from the west, so to me, -2 degrees celsius does not a winter make. lol

Anyway, the mental day came at a good time, otherwise all I can think about is my cousin's baby, and how shiteously unfair this all is. She's already got healthy b/g twins, and now a 'surprise.' Thank goodness I live too far away to be invited to the baby shower.

Daily Check-Up

External appearance: Developing a massive rash underneath my chest - it's spreading to my belly and back. Is this from my bra? Chafing? Stress? I was wondering if it was linked to the problems some consumers are having from Victoria's Secret's bras - there's a class-action lawsuit going on right now claiming that the bras contain formaldehyde, which causes rashes, chafing, itching, etc. Not something I want to have on my boobies, thank you very much. Don't even want formaldehyde in me when I'm dead. Anyway, my bras are from La Senza, which is apparently owned by Victoria's Secret. I'd like to go to the doctor to get the rash checked out, but I haven't found a family doctor yet.

Internal appearance: Not too bad today, actually. Maybe that Chinese medicine is finally kicking in - I've been on it for around 5 weeks straight. I did get my hair cut and highlighted a few days ago, which was nice. It's good to be very blonde again. :) I was listening to bouncy music all day on my iPod, so I guess that's good. Lots of Madonna and Corb Lund - the fun stuff. If you like country, you might (might) like Corb Lund (he's a fabulous alt country musician from Alberta) - check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hp5TbQQTQA0.


10:10 p.m.
ETA: Gah, I hate Facebook right now. My pregnant cousin just announced her first ultrasound on her status, and the due date is June 9. Five days before my due date. How can I distract myself before I fall apart again tonight? At least I selected the option on the status feed to 'see less of' my cousin's news.

The Undemocratic Republic of Infertility. (Warning: Grab a cup of coffee first.)

In the vein of Guns ‘n’ Roses’ upcoming album, Chinese Democracy – and I can think of many other examples to illustrate what I’m about to say – democracy among involuntarily infertile women ain’t gonna happen. (Although I do hear that G ‘n’ R’s disc is finally scheduled to drop next week, after a 10-year wait. lol) Although I don’t see democracy as the be-all and end-all of political systems, I thought for the longest time that infertile women did experience a real kind of democracy, one from which we all benefited.

I believed:

• that we were all equal in our trials;
• that all of our voices were, therefore, equally valid; and so
• we could all minister to each other regarding our collective pain.

That was a dumb creed. Partisan politics are at work here, just as they are elsewhere. What I’m thinking of, in terms of the infertility wars, is the newbies versus the vets.

To describe newbies, I cannot do a better job than Tertia. Here is part of her infamous ‘IVF Barbie’ post, which is frequently copied and pasted to infertility boards:

Newbie Barbie: Newbie Barbie, also known as BabyDust Barbie is a bright, perky Barbie, filled with optimism and confidence that IVF Will Work. She is thinner and usually younger than the other IVF Barbies. Her accessories include rose-tinted spectacles, a positive bank balance, healthy insurance coverage and a million questions. Newbie Barbie has lots of other Newbie Barbie friends and they congratulate each other on a job well done. This Barbie only says pleasant, optimistic things and believes that Attitude is Everything. Their motto is Think Positive!!

Re: vets, here is a description from Tertia:

Veteran Barbie: Veteran Barbies are the Anti-Barbie. They are a whole lot plumper than the Newbie Barbies, less perky (in boobs and attitude), have grayer hair, a largely negative and over-drawn bank balance, plenty of bruises and marks and a slightly cynical attitude. They are dressed in comfy track pants with elasticated waistbands. Their accessories include a wealth of knowledge of reproductive procedures and protocol, the ability to practically do their own cycle, a snarky attitude, little tolerance for stupidity, a well defined sense of humor, the ability to laugh at themselves, a fondness for wine/beer/crack and a aversion to pineapple, baby dust and Newbie Barbies. This aversion in its more severe form can be allergic and acerbic. Veteran Barbies tend to swear quite a bit (especially when playing in the Barbie House with Newbie Barbies and Pregnant Newbie Barbies) and parental guidance is advised.

All infertility, apparently, is not equal.

Newbies look up to the vets, yet of course do not believe for one moment that they’ll ever be ‘like that’: that cynical, that old, that unsuccessful, etc. Newbies want endless assistance in deciphering their cycles, and can’t understand why vets are too tired and unwilling (and too filled with Lupron/Suprefact) to help, and why they are so sensitive! Why, they wonder, must every post in infertility chat rooms be labeled ‘m/c mentioned,’ or ‘success mentioned,’ or ‘pg mentioned’ (or any combination thereof)? Why can’t they just say whatever they want? “We’re all in this together!!!” Etc., etc.

In the meantime, although vets remember their own days as newbies, they’re too damn tired of it all; they’re just trying to cope. But when you reach your personal breaking point, they are listening; they get it. They’ve saved you a seat at the bar, just in case.

Nevertheless…

Boxing Match Royale: Newbie versus Vet

Announcer #1: “Well, here we are in Infertility-Land, witnessing a battle of epic proportions between the shiny Newbie in the blue corner and, in the red corner, the much more established and experienced Vet. We’ve seen countless rounds thus far, and who knows how the battle will end?”

Announcer #2: “Well, you’re absolutely right. Throughout this longstanding rivalry, we've witnessed many ups and downs. The Vet certainly has experience in her corner, and nearly knocked out her opponent in the last round when Newbie sprinkled baby dust all over her head. But, as we’re all aware, Newbie has her young age on her side, and so she pulled herself off the mat and rained retribution all over Vet by getting pregnant and then slugged her in the face by chirping, “See, you just have to believe, and it will happen!” Vet is ready to strike a blow … let’s see what will happen!”

Terrible, I know. It shouldn’t be this way.

I don’t know exactly where I fit in on the Newbie-Veteran TTC spectrum. I’m definitely no newbie. I’ve been in this TTC battle for over six years. I’ve been through PCOS, 4 rounds of Clomid, one injectable/IUI cycle, and one IVF, plus the HSG, hysteroscopy, laparoscopy, etc. Only one chemical pregnancy to show for it, plus a new diagnosis of severe male factor. Many vets will laugh at this list, as it’s not much. I’ve spoken to women who’ve tried to conceive for 20 years, who’ve endured dozens of medicated cycles, miscarriage after miscarriage, stillbirths, burst tubes, screwed up endometrial linings, OHSS, near-death experiences, and more. Sometimes I feel embarrassed for feeling like a vet, since I haven’t done nearly as many cycles as most have. The partial reason for this is because I’m Canadian, and due to the hugely inefficient structure of infertility care in my particular province, I haven’t been able to do any more than that. In SIX whole years.

E.g.:
-It took 12 months to get my intake appointment with the first RE.
-Another 12 months to complete the most basic of basic diagnostic testing.
-Another 12 months to get an appointment with the second RE.
-Etc., etc.

I was a newbie at one point. We were all newbies. So I know I should be nice – and I am really a nice person in real life – but I can’t take ‘newbie-isms’ anymore, such as:

(((HUGS)))
I’ll pray for you!
Just think positive!
It only takes one!
It will work!
I have a good feeling about this!
You will be a mother someday! God wouldn’t put this desire in our hearts if he weren’t going to fulfill it!
*Baby dust!!!*

I bought into most of this stuff for years – as I said, I was once a newbie, too – but I’m finished with it, and felt this way even before the first IVF. I don’t actually get mad about people saying they’ll pray for me – I appreciate that, still – but I can’t take the other comments. I feel more on the vet side of things now. Yet I haven’t gone through nearly as much as a vet.

So I’m in a liminal space right now – a doorway – and not sure what my political stripes are. I used to love posting on SoulCysters, but now, after my miscarriage, I see it as more of a Newbie venue. I can’t take the hope there anymore. It kills me, since I have dozens of wonderful friends there. I miss them terribly; they haven’t done anything wrong. I just can’t take the hope on SC anymore. And it’s impossible for me to deal with the friends who got pregnant at the same time as me: I cannot handle hearing about everything I’m missing out on, and don’t know if I’ll ever get to share. So I’ve stayed away.

I’ve been hanging around a bit on the Vet board of ivfconnections.com, but am unsure about my ‘vet’ status, and don’t want to be laughed at or yelled at for not being a real vet, so I don’t post much. I think they’d be ok with it if I did – they seem like really cool, smart, funny women – but I just don’t know. I miss my Mutant girls on SC.

I don’t know what this liminality makes me, in political terms. An independent? Fat lot of good that does. Just warming a seat for no good reason at all.

Looking for distractions (aka: life with infertility)

Living as an involuntarily childless woman means that everything not involving cycling is just a distraction. Noise. Background music. Vicodin. It's nearly impossible to sustain an interest in anything other than achieving the prize, a baby, so I welcome anything that can divert my attention for a moment.

My distractions:

• travel (I get to go places for free because I'm a grad student - yay for me)
• reading
• writing (poetry, memoirs, essays, and more; I also love writing my thesis, which is a memoir)
• watching old TV shows (M*A*S*H, All in the Family, The Nanny, Titus, SATC)
• photography
• working out
• cooking (although, oddly, I hate doing it)
• gardening (but I sold my house for the sake of my grad degree, so I'm in an apartment, with no vegetable plot in sight)
• family and friends (but I live 2000 km away from all of them, so that doesn't do me a lot of good...)
• cats (but I'm not allowed to have any)

It's hard to keep up with hobbies/interests (read: distractions) when one is infertile, especially when you're a TTC vet. You know, when you're depressed you basically just want to lie in bed or sit on the couch all day. It doesn't occur to you to listen to music. You don't realize that you've worn the same outfit for 4 days straight. That's what this is like. Chronic unwanted infertility = chronic depression. Alice Domar has done work on the this topic, and has found that depression rates among infertile women are around the same as those of women battling cancer. Crazy.

Today I got distracted, though, and it felt ... well ... almost good. I worked on the intro to my thesis, wrote a book review, got my hair cut and coloured, helped out someone who needed assistance, sat in on a meeting for an upcoming literary festival, and just made my DH's lunch for tomorrow. I was so busy all day; it's been over a year since I've accomplished so much in a 24-hour time span . It didn't help me, per se, but at least my attention was directed elsewhere for a while. How did I work up enough motivation and energy for all of this? I don't know.

Now what to do tomorrow? Nothing is on the agenda, other than my thesis. Perhaps I should make myself busy. But that requires energy. And I don't have any because I want to have a baby, but I can't. How to stop thinking about that? Get busy ...

It's a tautological thing. A dog biting its own tail. A cycle. Just goes on and on.