probably starting over...again

Apparently it's back to the drawing board.

I just found out that the price I'll likely be quoted for IVF/ICSI/AH (not counting the drugs) will be almost double what I paid at my last clinic. We can't afford that. Hell, we can't afford any of this, period.

So I guess we'll go to the appointment anyway, hear what the RE has to say, and then ask for our file back. I'll look at getting a referral to ISIS, instead.

We're running short on time here, and we have no idea how long we'll have to wait for possible diagnostics and another IVF round. I'm starting to panic about time, because if we move back home anytime soon, it really has to be in late spring/early summer, to ensure that DH finds work (he's seasonal, and will not find a job later than that), and that I land a teaching position. But if we don't move back, I won't get a job, since there's a massive surplus of teachers in this area. And then no $ for further treatments.

I'm starting to wish that I had waited a few more years to start this degree. I'm stuck here now, with no idea about what to do. I've gotta get moving on my thesis, to finish before the summer begins.

No wonder I can't get any sleep.

averted crisis

DH and I patched things up (again) this morning. He feels as though I'm treating him like a child, but I did my best to explain (again) why I'm policing the alcohol zone. I don't personally care if he has 3 beers. He's a big boy. But I can't help it that excessive amounts of alcohol kill sperm. So if he can't observe the recommended limit of alcohol until TTC is over, then I have to intervene. That's just the way it is. I'm a pretty kick-ass wife - not to brag, but except for this TTC trauma, DH has got it VERY good - so I won't let myself feel bad about having to be the booze nazi around here. And he's over it already. lol

DH and booze

DH came home after having too many beers. Despite the doctor's recommendation (and my request) that he not have more than 1 or 2 at a time. I didn't even have the energy to get mad about it. Then when I asked him again if he could limit himself for the foreseeable future, he casually agreed, meanwhile pouring himself a glass of champagne. I got upset then and commented on how I'm busting my ass to try for a baby, and doing all the work. He went to bed, and now I'm never going to fall asleep tonight.

I do not know why he's doing this. He's not a big drinker, and only ever has more than a few when he's depressed about losing his dad (and I can understand that). But other than that ... I say 'please don't have more than a few per week (as per doctor's orders),' and then he's GOT to test the limits. I know he didn't do it deliberately to upset me. So WHY, then? Why jeopardize all of our work, money, and emotions? Studies show that alcohol is not kind to sperm. So why can't he just forget about booze - or just drink casually - until we're done TTC? Is he trying to sabotage this on a subconscious level?

update

Thanks to every person here for all the love. It's sad that I feel I can't rely on 'real life' people for support - e.g., my parents, my brother, my bff - but it's not their fault. They are wonderful people. This journey is a solitary one, though, except for the people who are traveling the same path (e.g., YOU). I'm grateful for you.

An update on our situation. First, I participated in a provincial survey about infertility and adoption. A woman phoned me for the interview, which lasted an hour. She was wonderful, and I was able to share my views on just about everything. I have done the research - from newspapers, qualitative social science research, humanities research, etc. - to be able to present a convincing case. The results from all of these surveys will be presented to a panel that will, in turn, make recommendations to the government about provincial policy re: infertility care, adoption, and foster care. I think I should be on the panel, frankly, but no one has asked me to join. lol

DH and I agreed a few days ago to not talk about any baby stuff until after the intake appointment next week. Because it's just too sad to think that we might not be together for the rest of our lives, if nothing good comes of it.

So he's gone tonight - out with the boys, which is a good thing - and I'm left with my own company. Normally I enjoy being alone, but not when I'm so depressed and filled with longing for my babies. I'm sitting here, dissolving over my keyboard, and quite a funny and sad sight, if I do say so myself. A few hours ago, when I looked in a mirror, I thought - and then forced myself to say- "I will be a mother one day." And then teared up. I've never said that aloud before. I don't know if I believe that statement. I don't think so.

I wasn't supposed to cry tonight. I guess I've just had a stressful day. I'm behind on my thesis, I'm on an extension, and the A+ I was promised on my proposal isn't, in fact, certain at all. And my academic schedule affects my job (?) in September, as well as whether or not I'll be able to continue (siiiiiigh) infertility treatments.

I bought a crapload of seafood (mussels, shrimp, and scallops), and homemade pasta, to make seafood pasta with parmesan. And champagne. Was going to watch a funny movie and eat good food ... and drink. But I couldn't find a good funny movie, so I watched M*A*S*H, which I adore, but it was a sad episode. The one where the medical team has 30 minutes to find an aorta for a dying soldier. They find one, of course, but at the expense of another (dead) soldier. So here I am, crying all over the keyboard, and it's too cold outside to walk out and rent a movie. But at least the food and the wine were good. And I do still love M*A*S*H (it's pathological - I'm in love with Hawkeye, and have been since I was 5 years old).

No, I don't care how cold it is. I'm going out to rent a movie and get a pastry to eat (joined by the other half of my bottle of champagne). Don't worry - I'm not driving. lol

Hope you all get through the weekend. Love to all.

life sucks

Life sucks and I wish I could die. That's what DH and I are both thinking these days. There's a very real chance that we'll break up if we don't get some good news one of these days. He cried and cried, and so did I. We talked about what we'll do, where he'd go, what would happen to me.

He offered to give up his passion - hot rodding (which costs a lot of money, but I've never cared how much he spent on it) - and save up to retire early, and travel anywhere I want to go. But it would be just a distraction for me. I used to love traveling, but nothing matters to me anymore. God hates us and wants us to suffer.

My parents know something is wrong. They phoned earlier, and DH talked to them, since I refused to come to the phone (so he said I was out). He said my mom knows something is up.

I do not know what to do. I can't believe this hellhole is my life.

small mercy

Thank goodness for small mercies. Our appointment has been moved from Feb 2 to Jan 22, which is next week.

Thank goodness - maybe we'll be on track to find some answers - we need this, considering the major blow-out we had yesterday (after I cried almost all day). Because what are our options, if it turns out that DH can't father biological children?

1) We adopt. DH is mainly happy with this - I am not.

2) We stay childfree. DH is mostly ok with this - I am not.

3) We continue treatments until I hit menopause, which (considering my family history of extended female fertility) could take another 20 years, and hope that something finally works. Both DH and I are extremely unhappy with this idea. So scratch that.

4) We try donor sperm. DH is very unhappy with this idea, and I am only mildly unhappy about it (because I grieve my inability to have a biological child with DH, and because I grieve when my DH is unhappy). But at least I'd get a shot at pregnancy and motherhood.

What is the least painful thing? We don't know.

DH said yesterday that he can't live with being the cause of my pain. He said we should split up, and that I could find another guy with whom to build a family. Now, I am not interested in locating any new guy, period, since if I were single, I don't think I'd care about having kids. It's just because of him that I want to parent ... with him. We hashed that out for a while.

Then he burst out saying that we would do the fourth option, since there is not one thing that will satisfy us both.

But we can't live with that, either. Assuming that it would work (and there is no such assumption, of course), DH says he will not parent the kid, and that he'll tell everyone that it's not his child in any way. Well, we can't put a kid through that! I imagine it would be hard enough on DI kids to know only half of their genetic make-up (in Canada, sperm donors must remain anonymous), let alone feeling completely unwanted by their social fathers.

I do feel that my DH would never go through with these threats - he is a great guy with a huge heart for children - but I don't want to assume anything, or to jump into using donor just hoping that he'll change his mind. Because if I'm wrong, and he doesn't change his mindset, we'll have an unhappy kid, an angry father, and consequently a worried and sad mother. That's really bad for everyone involved. It's not worth the risk.

So yeah. We're both stuck in a difficult place, with no easy answers, and no way for us to go on as happy as we were before.

I'm desperate for our new doctor to suggest something that will work for DH's sperm, so that we never have to address the DI issue again. I'm asking for the SCSA and for karyotyping. I'm going to ask if sperm obtained from a testicular biopsy (which would be younger and fresher) would perhaps work better than the ejaculated stuff. We'll do anything at this point.

In the meantime, DH says that when we go back home next month (for a visit), he going to tell everyone about our infertility, specifically that his sperm don't work. He said to me - loudly - that he has nothing to be ashamed of, and I agree: he doesn't. I don't see him as any less of a man for not producing a healthy semen sample. I really mean that. To me, masculinity has nothing to do with that (rather, what tells me he is a man is his willingness to do anything to make me happy). I'm not just saying that - this is how I truly feel about it. And I keep saying that to him.

I hope our family and friends are supportive of him. I'm not hopeful about it, though, because we ALL know how fertiles treat infertiles. So I'm steeling myself against the recommendations to relax and the moral judgements because we used IVF instead of adopting. And the looks of pity.

beneath the surface

DH will never ever understand what he's asking me to give up. There is nothing in my life that infertility hasn't soured.

We live thousands of kilometres from our respective hometowns (which are about a 45-minute drive from each other), and yet I can't phone my friends or family. I hardly ever talk to any of them. Why? Because what's going on in my life is so completely alienated from anything to do with them. Everything that matters to me - infertility, cycling, my miscarriage, my marriage, my thesis (much of which has to do with infertility) - is a big fat secret.

On the outside, we look perfect: jet-setting couple, madly in love with each other, great jobs, etc. On the inside, everything is rotting: constant crying, arguments, living paycheque-to-paycheque, my inability to focus on my work, etc. DH and I are madly in love with each other, but this baby thing is taking a massive toll, and I don' t know if our relationship will survive it.

My bff back home phoned, and the first thing she told me about was her new baby niece and how perfect she is. (First daughter among 3 boys - her SIL wasn't giving up until she got a girl. Yay for her.) Then she wanted to know what was up with me, and I couldn't think about what to say. I know I sounded distant and disinterested, and I couldn't do a thing about it. I can't share what's really going on with me, and it makes me feel as though I'm living separately from real life. As though my family and friends don't know the first thing about me anymore. I hope she doesn't read between the lines too much. I totally care about everything that's going on with her; it's just that I can't divulge what really is important to me in my life these days. I hope she doesn't take my detachment to mean that I care any less about her, because I don't.

We're going 'back home' next month, and I dread it. I've had a miscarriage and a failed FET since the last time I saw any of them, and I know they'll be able to tell that I've changed. I don't have any energy, and I don't care about anything. I'm so joyless, and I feel as though I've completely lost my sense of humour. I don't know when the last time was that I did my hair. I don't want to hear about all the family news. I'm steeling myself against the possibility that my brother and his wife may be expecting already, and that February may be the time for the big announcement. We'll have to meet DH's nieces' babies for the first time, and I take no joy in that. I am so unhappy. I should be nearly halfway through my pregnancy by now. How can DH justify how he's asking me to give up everything that I care about? I wish I could get inside his head to know what's really going on. I wish he could step inside mine for a moment to know that his decision is ruining my soul.

God thinks I suck

Wanna know how I know God doesn't like me and wants me to suffer?

I blogged a few days ago about the friend whose pregnancy was just announced on Facebook. Well, I found out today that she's also due when I would've been, in late spring.

To make matters worse, they go to our church, which is the one to which we'll return (or at least we were planning to) when we move back home this summer, and so we'll see them at least once/week. Plus we usually go out for lunch with her family, including parents, after the service.

Life just doesn't get any better than this. I guess we'll kiss that church goodbye. Ah well. Who says we would've definitely resumed our attendance there, anyway? We haven't been to church in almost 2 years, except for a wedding and a funeral.

This might amuse you, though: this pg chick is DH's ex-girlfriend's youngest sister (DH had just one girlfriend before me, and they were serious - if he hadn't met me, they would've ended up getting back together and marrying). I am friends with DH's ex's entire family, except for her. Heck, her parents even hug me when they see me, even when DH isn't around. I guess that might all come to an end, since DH and I will be burrowed in our little hole for the rest of our lives, so that we don't have to see anyone else's rugrats who are the same age that ours would've been.

Yay for Friday nights. I hope yours is going better than mine. At least we have homemade organic pizza. And beer.

adoption

I had an idea today, and shared it with DH - he was gung-ho about it. Take a break from infertility treatments and adopt from Mexico. We wouldn't get an infant, but we can live with that. We'd probably have to live there for 6 months to get the paperwork done, but we could try to make that work (DH liked the idea, actually, and I'm always all for moving to new places, so that's cool). The main draw is that my brother's wife is from Mexico, so the kid would maybe feel not quite so out of place in our family, especially since any potential cousins would also be half Mexican. As well, there are many white Mexicans where we're from (that's not a joke - it's true). And we could keep up with Spanish, then (I could even learn it), and spend time in Mexico (the real country, not the resorts) as a family. I could resume TTC in 2 or 3 years. At first, it all just felt right.

But then DH said something to the effect of oh good, because I just can't do the donor thing. So we had it out about that again. I guess that's gonna become normal around here. He said that he'd be angry about it, he'd feel like a failure, he'd feel jealous, and he'd feel as though I'd cheated on him. I get the anger and the jealousy and the failure, but not the cheating, especially since I've never been with anyone except him. No other boyfriends. Nothing. To me, the donor is just that: a donor. Someone who is providing much-needed genetic material so that we can get on with our lives already. But I guess that's an uncomfortable topic for guys.

It's a fine line between being pissed off at him and understanding how he's feeling. I can't tell him what to feel. It's got to be normal to feel that way. I mean, he's grieving the loss of his fertility; he only found out recently, and I remember how many years it took me to come to terms with it when I thought I was the infertile one. But I want to be pregnant again so bad, and I want to go through labour, delivery, breastfeeding, etc, etc. How can I possibly give that up? He thinks I don't know what I'm asking of him, which is probably true, but he also has no inkling of the sacrifice he's asking of me. He can't have it; therefore I can't have it, either. He asked me if I wanted him to be angry at me all the time, and hate me, as a result of a 'donor' baby. I said, "Either way, there's gonna be hatred flying around. Because I'm bitter already, and it's not going to get any better."

So I don't think I can adopt in the meantime, after all. Because DH said we could resume treatments afterward, but I know him. I know that after we'd adopt, he'd consider it case closed. Besides, we'd be down to one income - plus paying adoption bills - and so we wouldn't be able to afford IVF again. And anyway, I'm not getting any younger.

Our IF questionnaire from the new clinic asked about our stress levels (including depression and anxiety), on a scale of 1 to 10 (10 being the highest). I wrote: "I can't define my stress according to a number, but I can say that infertility is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and that there's nothing in my life left untainted by this physical and social condition." DH wrote: 8.

Yikes. 8 is high. He's hiding it pretty well. What can I do? If the new doctor does find something irreparable, one of us is going to have to make the sacrifice of a lifetime for the other. Or else we may need to part ways. I can't live with the idea of not trying everything possible before giving up this fight.

Got our first appointment (and questions about adoption)

For whatever obnoxious reason - which is no one's fault, but it's still annoying - my referral still hasn't been received by the Hannam clinic. So while I continue to harangue the gp's administrator to get the referral through (by carrier pigeon, if need be), the nurse at Hannam (bless her heart) scheduled our first appointment anyway.

So Feb 2 is the big day - yay. I don't have to wait a year to get in, like I did at the first two infertility clinics.

In the meantime, I promised DH that I would seriously consider adoption, and I really meant it. Even though the idea is inconceivable to me - to adopt instead of getting pregnant. (I'll write more about this later, since it's a long story.) I read somewhere that a successful marriage relies on the idea that each partner will consider that the other person might also be right, even if they seem wrong. So ok. I will try my best, and I trust that he will do the same.

I spent yesterday evening researching adoption options, and my preliminary findings beg the following questions:

1) Where, exactly, are all these thousands of lonely, unfamilied, Oliver Twist-ish kids that opponents of assisted reproductive technology keep talking about (in their efforts to prove that it is the responsibility of IF couples everywhere to care for them, rather than pursuing treatments)?

2) Why does it cost $25,000 to adopt one, if you and a child are lucky enough to find each other?

3) Is it okay for a white couple to adopt a child who is not white? (I ask this because I am aware that people's skin colour matters, and that being white gives me privileges in society that people of colour usually do not have. I hesitate about tearing children away from their cultural identities, particularly because it perpetuates colonialism, which I wish to avoid.)

Anyway, more later. I'm starving.

Ok, I just saw that comments are enabled on the last post. WTH?

Well, I don't know what's wrong with the comments. I've triple-checked everything on the Dashboard, and it's all enabled. So if you don't have my e-mail address and need to reach me, try me at lovinglifelive@live.ca. I don't check it every day, but I get to it eventually.

Ok, it has come to my attention that I've somehow switched off the 'comments' option on this blog. I was kinda wondering why I hadn't heard from anyone, but I figured everyone was either busy with the holidays or sick of my whining. Or both. lol I will try to fix the problem - I don't know why it's not working, since the comments option is enabled. Hm....

Where are the true infertiles?

If 1 of every 5 or 6 couples has trouble with infertility, how come none of them are my family members or friends (in real life)?

I have a huge extended family. My dad has 4 siblings, and my mom has 9, and so the family tree is massive (e.g., my mom's family numbers at over 100 people). The only real infertility case I can think of is one cousin's wife, and from what I remember her telling me (this isn't confidential - she's very open about it), it was because of childhood physical abuse. So she literally can't have children. (Damn unfair, too.) Oh, my mom's eldest sister never had kids, but we don't know if she and my uncle were infertile; I think that they chose to be childfree, since she was forced to raise all her younger siblings, pretty much, which she really resented. But who knows?

Another cousin's wife has trouble getting pregnant, and had a stillbirth, but she already has one living son. Sorry to sound harsh, but I don't think she counts, since if she went back on Femara, she'd still likely end up with a 'take-home' baby.

In DH's family:
-grandmother had recurrent miscarriages, but she still had a bunch of kids
-one aunt was truly infertile - never once got pregnant, though she tried and tried
-brother and SIL have recurrent miscarriages and stillbirths, but they have 2 living children (not to trivialize this, of course, since their tragedies were horrible, but they do have beautiful kids)

As for my friends, the only person who comes to mind has decided not to pursue ART, even though she can afford it. Clomid was as far as she got. This also, in my mind, does not count. (But good for her - I wish I could come to the same decision.)

Where are all the infertiles? The 1-out-of-6 (or 5, depending on whose statistics you're looking at) couples who just can't get the job done. I know that the classic rebuttal will be: Oh, but you don't know how many friends and family members struggled to get their children. Well guess what: THEY DIDN'T. Everyone I know has kids at the 2- or 3-year mark of marriage, which is standard where I'm from. They go on to have kids every 2 or 3 years, until they declare that they are 'done,' and then they complain about the annoyance of getting tubes clipped, or however it works to get permanent birth control.

Meanwhile, I'm the only one I know (besides the aunt and the first cousin I named in this post, as well as DH's aunt) who has completely unwanted birth control. I can't catch a break. Where I'm from, I'm a freak of nature. No exaggeration.

I think I've gotta get off of Facebook. As much as I like it, I can't deal with all the pregnancy and baby talk; that's what's setting me off today. The most recent pregnancy announcement - basically our last set of friends who were child-free - is bothering me, especially since they're complaining on their Facebooks that they can't go to the Caribbean this winter. Also, one of my cousins (the one who is due at the same time I would've been) is posting ultrasounds, info about the sex, thinking aloud about baby names, etc., and it's just too cutting for me. She's going to find out on Friday if she's expecting a boy or a girl.

Maybe I'll pare FB down to just my brother and SIL, my mom, etc. But I know I'll offend a million people. It's not that I want to cut anyone out of my life - they're welcome to e-mail me the old-fashioned way - but I need to protect myself from the pictures and status updates. I'm not sure what the etiquette should look like in this case.

Had a horrible night, but that's getting to be par for the course around here. Couldn't even enjoy the hockey game. I sobbed almost all evening, and DH stayed on the phone with my brother while watching the game, because he didn't know what to do.

We stayed up until midnight, talking. He begged me to consider adoption, but it's just not right for me now. I wanted to adopt, but after I gave birth to a child (and I have valid reasons for this).

So DH says he feels that he has to give in on the donor issue, since I'm so miserable, he's scared that I'm going to do something to myself. So I felt even worse. I don't want to scare him, and make him upset, or muscle him into using donor as our last resort.

We talked about it some more. He told me why he doesn't want to do it. I told him why I do. So he is going to think for a week about using donor, and I will re-evaluate my stance on adoption.

I feel so terrible and guilty because he has to go through all of this. He went to work this morning after only 5 hours of sleep. So I made one of his favourite dinners - salad with homemade dressing, sloppy joes, fruit salad - and we're gonna watch August Rush.

I did feel a little better today, that is, until I saw - on Facebook (where else?) - that friends of ours are expecting their first. Of course. And so it goes.

Deed is done. Have officially requested the transfer of our IF medical records to Hannam in Toronto.

Saw a wonderful gp at a walk-in clinic, who faxed the referral ASAP to Hannam. She also provided a referral to a sleep disorder clinic - for a formal sleep study - which I have needed for years. (I have racing thoughts, bruxism, dream disorders, etc., etc. Have always been that way. Sleep is a precious commodity in my world.)

Spoke to an administrator at Hannam about possible sperm tests to be ordered. She said that Hannam often orders those tests (e.g., SCSA). And, she said that I could expect patient intake within 30 days (which is no small miracle in Canada). Via e-mail, a nurse said that she could set up an appointment for me already, if I wanted.

Af arrived. I was in Starbucks, 2 miles from home. Wearing a thong, and no supplies in my bag. No advance spotting: just a whoooosh. WTF. Only 2 days after withdrawing from the meds. The nurse said it would take at least 6 days. And it's no painless af like last time - every part of my body hurts, even my teeth. Maybe that's the grief talking. I guess this sounds dumb, but every time I'm in the bathroom, it feels like a funeral, and I wonder at what point the embryo will leave my body, or whether it's been absorbed into my own.

I can see in DH's eyes that he's riding out the storm. His impression is that an unwanted childfree life will be hard for me to take at first, but that I'll get used to it, and that I'll go back to being my old self. Little does he know. He just doesn't get it.

abrupt change of plans

Dh and I agree that we want to know what the problem is with fertilization and embie development. Our current clinic will not offer any testing on the sperm, other than the basic analysis (which has been done 4 times). All they say is to keep trying IVF. Well, what if DH's swimmers have, for example, a high degree of DNA fragmentation - which is a distinct possibility - and he simply can't be a biological father? IVF would be a huge waste of money. We don't understand why our clinic won't provide these kinds of tests, and so we're outta there. I'm phoning tomorrow to ask for a copy of our record.

We're looking at three clinics in the GTA that do offer more extensive sperm tests: ISIS, Markham, and Hannam. (In addition, they all seem to believe in immunological issues, so if that crops up, too, at least we can deal with it.) We'll probably be wait-listed again, but we're used to that, I guess. If we don't get another cycle in by the end of the summer, we'll have to figure something else out. Either wait until the summer of 2010 to fly back here, or I'd have to take a medical leave (if that would even be allowed under my teaching contract - probably not...).

I'm hoping for Hannam. He's got a great reputation, good success rates, and the clinic would be relatively easy for me to get to by transit. I e-mailed them re: wait time, and can't wait to hear back.

I still want donor as our last resort - e.g., for when I'm approaching 40 and just need something to work already - so I guess I'll keep on hoping and praying for DH to come around on this issue. He's trying to be understanding, but he will never truly 'get' how important this is to me. It's not his fault; it's just the way it is.

Maybe we should just go ahead and try the next attempt. I mean, last time, at least one of the embies had to get to blast status to be able to implant (somewhat). Maybe it was just one of those random miscarriages that many women end up having, whether or not they're aware of it. Maybe it will be different this time.

We are planning to do assisted hatching this time, so that's gotta help. And our RE is lowering my Puregon (aka Follistim) from 175 units to 125, since I overresponded last time, and it affected the number of eggs retrieved (11, which is apparently still good, but my antral follicle count is over 20, so ...). Maybe a smaller dosage will let me get more eggs, to get us even one or two more embryos than last time.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe not. I wish the doctors would actually test the damn sperm so we could know what was really wrong, and if there's any chance for us.

Am having second thoughts about an immediate IVF. What's the point, if the sperm are so crappy, and the clinic has no further suggestions for us, other than 'try again.' If we tried to get into one of the Toronto clinics that actually tests for male factor (e.g., DNA fragmentation), maybe we could try getting newer sperm from a testicular biopsy. What is that called - TESE?

I don't know what to think or do. Is it worthwhile to waste another $10-12000 (basically, all of our savings) on an IVF attempt when we already know that the embies will be of poor quality? When we know that the sperm can't drive the embie development? When we know what the likely outcome will be? What would you do if you were me (or my DH)?

Also, we're going back home in February, plus I have a conference to attend, so I don't know if I want to be all red-eyed during that time.

I'm not at all talkative today. Think I'm going to walk to Starbucks, and maybe read there for a bit. I ordered a stack of books through www.bookcloseouts.com, and I'm in the middle of Sweetness in the Belly. Ttyl.

Official BFN

Clinic confirmed negative beta. Will wait for af, and then start stims again. I went to bed, then got up, took Vicodin, and asked DH to take me shopping. I needed a new bra - badly - and so that distracted me somewhat. I can't believe how ancient I feel - my joints are aching, and I'm so tired. I'm gonna take a sleeping pill tonight, as soon as the Canada-Russia hockey game is over.

If this next IVF/ICSI/AH doesn't work, we're switching to a clinic that deals more specifically with male factor (and that believes in auto-immune issues, just in case that happens to be a problem, too - we don't know because we've never been able to get that far). By that time, we will likely be out of this province, and I'll be teaching again, so I guess we'd have to wait until July of 2010 for the next cycle. Maybe I should get the clinic referral started, just in case. Am thinking of going to Dr Virro in Mississauga, and he's apparently got a long waitlist.

DH and I are having major problems over this, and we're talking about separating if nothing ever works. I can't cope with all of this disappointment for the rest of my reproductive years, and he can't cope with the idea of donor. (Thank goodness for the vets at ivconnections.com for talking me down from the ledge.)

I kept repeating today that infertility has ruined my life - every single aspect of my life that means anything to me at all (there's nothing sacred to IF), even the things that don't appear to be IF-related - and I am getting less sleep than ever because all I think about is all I've lost to the evil god of involuntary childlessness. In response to this, DH said that I could do donor if I wanted, but not to expect him to be an involved parent, then. That's a huge concession already from his firm 'no donor' stance. But I said that I wanted to parent together with him, obviously, for the benefit of everyone involved. I just want donor as an absolute laaaast resort. I want it in my back pocket, to know that I have at least one option (even if it's less than ideal for us), just in case his sperm just can't do it. I need to know that this is going to end at some point. I'm hoping that he continues to think about donor to extend our family, and to maybe come to some peace about accepting it as a last resort. We would get through it together, somehow.

In the meantime, he wants to start telling people - specifically our parents, his sister, one brother, as well as my brother and sister-in-law - about our infertility. Most of them know the basics, but they still think that I'm the one with 'the problem.' He wants them to know that it's not me. He would also like to tell them about the IUI, IVF, FET, etc., and about the m/c. He's also thinking about telling everybody else we know, pretty much, about his infertility. I'm generally not in favour of this idea, for many many many reasons. So I asked him if it would take some pressure off of him and/or if it would make him feel more supported. He said yes. So I'm thinking about it, and I'll probably agree to it, as long as he makes them all understand that they can NEVER talk to me about it (and I know he would, anyway).

I appreciate the fact that he wants to take the pressure of being 'the infertile one' (gag me -that sounds awful) away from me. And that's a big man, imho.

Here's what not to do on New Year's Eve: converse with your spouse about the possibility of splitting up. I don't know how my life could get any more rotten right now. I try to think of worse things than infertility, just to make myself feel guilty for feeling bad, but it doesn't matter: it doesn't make the pain subside.

'It isn't that easy for us ... our kids keep crowding our bed!'

One more thing before I go drown my sorrows at Starbucks with a venti eggnog latte that I cannot really afford. (Am thinking about bringing my own rum for a garnish. *Hic*)

Was watching The View yesterday (I love the ladies' showdowns with Elisabeth Hasselbeck, who is truly one of the most annoying people on TV), and the topic of family and babies and reproductive technologies came up. Hasselbeck crowed about her kids and said that if it were up to her, she'd have a third child already.

And then she remarked, "But it isn't that easy for us." With this look of intense pain on her face. I thought, "Oh, I wonder if she's an infertile?"

Um, NO. As it turns out, she can't get enough 'alone time' with her hubby ... because of their two kids.

GUESS HOW SORRY I FELT FOR HER.

BFN

I went for a two-mile walk last night, in the cold and snow, to buy another stupid (and hugely overpriced) hpt. And got another BFN. I'm at the equivalent of 11dp4dt, really (since the embie had another day to grow before ET), so I guess that's that. I'm shattered. I know you all mean well, but please don't tell me, "It's still early," because it's not. Yes, there is a remote possibility that there's not enough HCG yet, but it's still just that: remote. So I'll stay on my drugs, but I cannot wait to get Saturday's beta over with. And good riddance to 2008.

DH said yesterday that we could go straight into the next IVF; he's going to withdraw the money needed from our retirement savings (this BLOWS because he spent almost 6 months away from me, working in the northern Alberta oilfields, for that dough). But I'm grateful that we have it - I mean, there are plenty of infertile people out there who don't even have that. So I guess I'll start injecting again this weekend. My ovaries are already quiet because of this FET, so I don't have to do the bcp and Suprefact routine first.

I am grateful for the chance this embie got. Just feel so raw again, though. Why can't we catch a break?

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