Tell Me You Love Me Episode 4

It is starting to become a little clearer now. The episode starts off with Carolyn buying an hpt at a drug store and then using their bathroom to poas. When she sees the inevitable negative, she loses it and tears the paper towel dispenser off the wall. She goes to the construction site where Palek is working and he is unable to comfort her, esp because he is rather distracted by work labor situations.

She later reveals to Palek that she had been pregnant before and had an abortion. He responds that that is why she thought it had to be him because she had been pregnant before. He completely missed the grief she is experiencing and the guilt associated with the abortion.

I understood what she was feeling that maybe that was her one chance and now it is gone. Although I have never had an abortion, in February 2006, I missed a period for the first time in my life. I was scheduled to start a new job after having been out of work for nine months. I was afraid to be pregnant even though we had planned to go off birth control in less than six months. I just couldn't start a new job pregnant, knowing I wouldn't be FMLA eligible and so many other things. And I prayed really hard not to be pregnant. It turned out, of course, that I wasn't pregnant and it was merely a result of my new birth control pills. But how often in the last year I have wondered if somehow I am being denied because I didn't want what perhaps was being offered.

This is the first episode that DH has watched with me. He made an interesting comment about how Palek never says the right thing to Carolyn and how he feels that he can never say the right thing to me either. And the hard thing is I don't even know what the "right" thing is to say to me.

Downhill slide

Today's IUI was cancelled. The white blood cells were too numerous to remove or to put in my uterus. And the count was so low it wasn't worth it anyway.

On an ironic note, I decided to take a pg test because I figured with the trigger it might be the only time that I would ever see two lines. It was faulty, the dye was just one big blue across the damn thing. You have to laugh.

Sigh

Not even one million. Only 900,000.

I feel defeated.

The Others

I often wonder about the other women in the RE's office. Why they are there, what diagnosis they are dealing with, how old they are, how long they have been struggling with infertility. Do they have regrets about what they've chosen to do with treatments or waiting too long to start a family. Are their husbands supportive or do they even have husbands. And on and on my mind goes, wondering, always questions, never answers.

On the blogosphere, we can all be so supportive; however, in real life, it's a different story. It is so awkward sitting there because no one, least of all me, wants to make eye contact. For reasons I don't quite understand, the shame pervades that lovely decorated room with the upscale dark cherry wood furniture and makes one stare out the windows at the picturesque fountain. Although our eyes are downcast, the fear and the pain and the tiredness is etched on each face.

Today was like every other time I have been in the office and some other woman was waiting. We looked at everything but each other. Today, she looked young, younger than me; and our eyes didn't meet, but I wondered about her. And then the patient coordinator came out and handed her an information booklet. A booklet about the donor eggs program. And I wondered does she need donor eggs or is she considering being a donor as a way to finance her ivf? Did it hurt her to have me see that booklet? I can't even imagine having to make the decisions that come with either of those options. How truly terrifying to be in her position.

There is something deep inside me that wants to reach out to these women. I want to know their stories. I want us all to be able to look at each and somehow recognize we are NOT freaks. I want to lend support to these others who know at least some of my pain. But I am afraid. And I am not sure why.

Follicle update and denial

Back from u/s #4 for this cycle (in case anyone was counting). The follicles have grown- right is 16 and left is 20 and a 14. The 16 and 20 are definitely mature enough and the trigger may mature the 14 enough too. Lining is a perfect 10! (that's about the only thing 10 about me.) So, trigger tonight and insems tomorrow and Friday. Now, we just have to pray for lots of motile sperm. Beta on 10/10.

My pregnant coworker (who started trying after us) called me to say she is in the hospital in labor. Her due date was last Friday. I am trying really hard not to think about the fact that tomorrow she will be holding a baby and I get to have a catheter.

I'm surprised it's not more

Your Mind is 65% Cluttered

Your mind is quite cluttered. And like most clutter, it's a bunch of crap you don't need. Try writing down your worst problems and fears. And then put them out of your mind for a while.

How Cluttered is Your Mind?

Disappointing follicle scan

I was really hoping to trigger tonight or tomorrow and be done with these horrible estrace tablets (inserted vaginally and resulting in gritty residue-ugh). But apparently, my lining and follicles are not yet onboard.

I am tired of this cycle already and it's only day 11. I had an u/s and bloods this morning and have to go back in for another u/s on Wednesday. I also had to order a refill of the Gonal-F and do another injection tomorrow night. Follicles are currently right side: 15x14; left: 16x15 and 12x10 and my lining is only a 6. So, maybe insems by the end of the week. I know all the monitoring is good, but it's exhausting and quite a pain scheduling-wise.

Tell Me You Love Me, Episode 3

Apparently, it's not going to be male factor infertility for Palek and Carolyn. Kristen over at the Sticky Bean has a great synposis.

First Follicle scan

So, it was dildocam day this morning. One cool thing is that while the NP is looking around, I get to write the measurements down on the clipboard. Helps take my mind off have the probe up the wazoo.

I will start my first round of injects tonight and do another one on Sunday. I am already feeling like a pincushion from the awful phlebomotist who couldn't get a good stick. She finally drew blood from the top of my hand for my estradiol level. I also have to start estrogen supps to help with the lining (this is more just precautionary b/c of the Clomid). I was expecting the typical vaginal suppositories, but no, these are small hard little tablets- the same as what they use for oral, just going up the other direction.

Another dildocam scheduled for Monday. Probably trigger Tuesday depending.
But numbers were as follows:
lining 5b (a minimum of 7b is needed by trigger); right side one follicle at 10 mm and left side two follicles- 10 and 12. Not bad for CD 8.

Happiness Challenge

Thanks to the Happiness Challenge by THE stirrup queen Mel, I committed myself to wearing my fabulous shoes at least weekly. My blog name, you see, has its origins, in part, in my love of thoroughly impractical shoes. One could even say it was my appreciation for good shoes that brought DH and I together. He still remembers the pair I was wearing the night we met. They don't have to be expensive, but it certainly never hurts. I drool over peep-toes and stillettos (the higher the better) and daydream of my Jimmy Choos (DH has been so kind as to buy me two pairs), BCBGs, Steve Maddens, Stuart Weitzmans, and Carlos Santanas in my closet, and long for that ultimate pair of Manolos. I don't, however, often wear the lovely ones I have in my closet. My daily boring life just doesn't seem worth the effort of the impracticality.

In the last few years, my shoe ardor has extended to adorable little baby shoes. I am fine with most baby stuff in stores, but get me around those little tiny baby booties and I am pining for what seems out of my reach. In the event that I ever do get pregnant, I plan to tell DH by giving him a pair of baby shoes (and a pirate book- but that's another story). Hence, my blog title.

Anyhow, on to happiness. I realize that some may question how exactly the wearing of these shoes can make me happy. And to be honest, I wondered myself if it would just be a fun thing to do or would it actually promote some sort of happiness response. This is my third week of pulling my lovely shoes out of their pretty boxes and shodding my feet with something that probably costs more than the rest of my entire outfit combined. And surprisingly, looking down at them does indeed make me happy. As do the many compliments I have received since starting this project. Compliments on my appearance are generally few and far between, but the wearing of the shoes not only improves my footwear, but seems to be affecting my confidence. It's almost as if my little brain is saying, "Well, I may not be pregnant, but damn my shoes are hot! So, watch out!"

So, money may not be able to buy one happiness (and sadly not even a baby sometimes), but it sure can help with shoe acquisition.



P.S.- Today's pair are not that expensive, but certainly impractical. A truly fabulous pair of four-inch red patent leather peep-toes that can be found here for unfortunately a bit less than I paid for them.

Maybe I am crazy and don't know it?

I have been on the Clomid three days now and no noticeable side effects. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop because I know so many women have experienced some really terrible side effects. I know some women have described their experiences as feeling like they were going crazy. So, I wonder if I going crazy, but just am unaware?

I thought for sure I would have headaches, at a minimum, since I have a tendency to get hormonal migraines anyway. But so far nothing. Of course, now that I have posted this I will probably get some killer side effects as a jinx. And part of me wonders if the Clomid is actually working in there if I'm not feeling anything. And to swing to the other end of the spectrum, I always worry about too many follicles since this is my first medicated cycle and we have no idea how I'll respond. It seems rather aggressive to have started with 100 mg of Clomid followed by 2 daily vials of injects when we know I ovulate.

GIven my flip-floppy thinking, maybe I am crazy.

Losing My "Virginity"- Clomid-Style

Last night, I took my first 100 mg dose of Clomid. I actually hesitated before I swallowed each of those pills- talk about very bitter pills to swallow. I felt each one go down my throat as if I was swallowing a huge blob of chalk. With those swallows, I had to finally acknowledge to myself that any baby we conceive won't be conceived like "normal people." With those swallows, my hormones are no longer in my control and now my menstrual cycle is at the hands of a doctor and drugs. I will ovulate earlier and more follicles and likely more painfully than ever before. Temps and opks are out the window, I am no longer monitoring my own body. I am not "taking charge of my fertility;" rather, my fertility is taking charge of me. I will be tricking it with meds and injecting it with hormones, watching the response to those hormones through ultrasounds and attempting to get sperm to meet egg via a catheter. In a way I never even considered before, I feel somehow violated. Something has been taken from me.

With this Clomid, I am crossing a threshold that I can never get back. I am one of "those" women. I realize a lot of women take Clomid (although I see this as more than just taking Clomid and as the first step to the injects next week and the IUIs) and it's not that big of a deal. However, in a way I don't truly understand it's a painful reminder of the infertility. I wonder if the fact that my coworker is due this week has anything to do with my feelings. She started trying AFTER we did and now she has a baby and I am taking drugs.

I have to shamefully admit how much resentment I felt for my husband when taking those pills. Why do I have to subject MY body to all of this because his doesn't work? Men whose wives have the infertility diagnosis are only inconvenienced to the tune of masturbating in a cup. Why is medical science such that infertility is a women's issue even when it's not her physical problem?

I am grateful that there is at least this to try, but with the swallowing of those pills, the dream is gone.

Tell Me You Love Me Episode 2- spoiler

Thanks to On Demand (I think we spend more on cable than our other utilities combined), I caught episode two of HBO's "Tell Me You Love Me." Thankfully, the pornographic level was turned down considerably. As far as the infertility storyline, the wife confesses that she had testing done. Apparently, they had previously agreed they weren't ready to take that step. Totally unrealistic that people in their 30's would not want to proceed to testing.

The husband is angry that she has gotten tested without telling him, accuses her or "gathering her ammo." Then, he asks her what they will do if it's him. And she has no answer. How true that is. If it's him, there rarely is an answer other than some form of ARTS. But just when you start to think it really is going to be him, the teaser for the next episode has the wife telling another couple that he had his sperm tested and it's just great.

One interesting scene for the IF couple is the meeting with the therapist. The therapist asks if they tried this month, and the husband replies, "We try every month." I laughed at that one. Ah, the futility of "trying." The husband finally breaks down and admits that sex on demand has more than lost its charm. The therapist also advices them to consider telling people. The wife is adamant that it should be private and that she doesn't want to start getting advice from everyone and her aunt (you have to wonder of the screenwriter knows of Aunt Jane?). The therapist tries to reassure her that she might be surprised at the response of others because other women and their aunts have gone through this too. Obviously, not a therapist who specializes in infertility.

Anyhow, I am curious to see how next week pans out. And happy to know that I can get a sneak preview via On Demand.

Green light

for IUI #1. Started my period this morning and called the clinic at 8:30 (slept in since I had today off). The receptionist said the latest appt she could fit me into was 9:30 and that I needed to come in today b/c they only do baseline u/s during the week. Gulp! I hadn't even showered yet. So, a mad rush to the clinic, breaking a few speed records and freezing with wet hair (it somehow dropped to a high of 50 degrees here on the one day I can't blow dry my hair- typical).

But the good news was my ovaries are cyst-free and looking pretty, so we are set to get on the IUI merry-go-round. I know it may not work, but at least it's not the same damn thing we have been doing unsuccessfully for 15 months.

So, for those interested, my protocol will be as follows: 100 mg Clomid forCD 3- CD7, another u/s on CD 8, 150 U of Gonal-F on CD 9 and possibly also on CD 11. Another u/s around CD 11 and Ovidrel trigger when the follicles are looking good, followed by back-to-back insems. Oh and lovely progesterone supps following insem, can't wait for that.

Results Are In

DH went to his appt and got his first post-Clomid s/a results. He has only been on it two months, so it is still early to test based on the sperm production cycle, but the urologist is big on monitoring. The urologist thinks there is improvement in motility (I don't), but the count did not increase, although the volume did. Additionally, testicle firmness is increasing, which is apparently a sign of better testicle health and sperm production. What concerns me is that this is the first s/a that showed white blood cells, an indicator of infection. A culture was done, but apparently the urologist didn't discuss this with DH.

On a side note, it drives me insane that DH has no knowledge of these things! He doesn't research anything and has no clue about what is normal. He just takes at face value what the doctors tell him. Argh!

I really feel like I am setting myself up for big disappointments with the IUIs, especially because we are dealing with less than five million motile sperm. Why am I going to pump myself full of drugs and go through all of this when the outcome is very likely going to put us in the same position as we are now but only six months older. I guess I feel we have to try because they are paid for by insurance. And DH wants to try it because it increases the chances some, but I really think he is being unrealistic.

Tell Me You Love Me

Thanks to the post at the Sticky Bean, I caught HBO's "Tell Me You Love Me" premiere last night. Although I could certainly have done with out the explicitness of the sex scenes or for that matter the focus on sex in general, I realize as DH's told me, "This is HBO."

Anyhow, the premise of the show is three couples- one in their 20's, one in their 30's and one in their 40's- who all end up with a couples' therapist. The couple in their thirties has been ttc for a year- just reaching an infertility diagnosis, I suppose. In watching the scenes dealing with infertility, I found myself to be more of a critic rather than an emphasizer (in the same way I watch legal shows, knowing that it really doesn't happen that way in most courtrooms). There is no way she would have been going to a fertility clinic on the sly without her husband and the doctor certainly wouldn't have euphemistically referred to a semen analysis as "making a deposit downstairs." But one moment that was particularly poignant and realistic is when the wife tells her husband that they need to have sex because she is ovulating (she can feel it- hee, hee) and he isn't in the mood, so an argument ensues. Been there, done that.

DH thinks that they are setting up for male factor infertility since the wife "checked out" (she really didn't though, an u/s alone isn't enough to diagnose). That would make for a really interesting show since MFI is rarely talked about. We shall see.

Taking out the trash

It seems that even our garbage labels us as the childless ones. Saturday was trash day and I had to leave the house early in the morning. As I drove down our street, I noticed that the receptacles at our house and the few belonging to older (i.e., elderly) couples were the only ones not overflowing and accompanied by numerous diaper boxes.

When DH and I moved to this neighborhood almost two years ago, we picked it because of its family nature. Now, it just grates that this huge house holds only the two us (and the mutts, of course). Most of the other neighbors all know each other because their kids race around together. They are all friendly to us and wave when we drive by, but I don't know any of their names.

We moved in early October 2005 and I recall many parents and children who came by at Halloween during trick-or-treating who asked if we had any kids. This was repeated again in 2006. I can't believe it's two years later and its still just us. How I long to drag out to the curb boxes from the dreaded Babies 'R Us and numerous diaper boxes. I want to belong to the elusive club of the neighborhood.

Out of the closet

so to speak. Today, at a women's group at church, during the prayer requests, I brought up that I am really hoping to start a treatment cycle for infertility and would hopefully know next week. It was so difficult to get out it felt like I was admitting to being a child molester. Still processing this, but will post more soon.

Interesting study

I came across the following abstract. I haven't read the study, but sure would like to.

11561741 JA

Coping with male infertility. Gender differences

Women of infertile couples rated higher on "depressional coping" than their partners. Women with infertility rated lower on "religiousness and search for meaning" than women with other chronic medical problems.

2001 Arch Gynecol Obstet 265;3:131-6

Kowalcek, I., Wihstutz, N., Buhrow, G., and Diedrich, K

Another day, another semen analysis

DH goes in for his semen analysis today to see if the Clomid has had any effect. He won't get the result until his appointment with his urologist next Wednesday. I realized this is his sixth s/a. Poor guy. He never complains about it though (other than that first one with people rattling the bathroom door handle).

I'm not expecting much of a change, but I am secretly hoping for at least 10 million motile sperm. Please . . .

Why

Had a discussion with DH after church yesterday. In place of the usual sermon, two members of the congregation spoke about their faith journey. One of the them explained how it was a "born-again moment" to be at the birth of his children. I almost lost it at that one. (On a side note, I truly wish DH would not insist on sitting so close to the front of church, so I could escape at times like these.) The other speaker commented that even in the midst of her struggle that she knew God was there; He might not take away the pain, but His presence was a comfort. DH asked me if I felt that way about infertility. And I admitted that, for the first time in the fifteen years that I have been a Christian, I don't feel like God is there. I have had bad thigns happen to me and I have always felt able to turn to God, but now I feel veyr much alone. I know intellectually that bad things happen to good people and that a physical ailment is not necessarily a manifestation of sin (cf. the blind man whose parents did not sin but was blind so that God would be glorified) and yet, as I explained to DH, there is part of me that screams inside, "what is wrong with me? Why do I deserve this?" Not that I think anyone "deserves" this struggle.

DH explained to me that he doesn't question why. He doesn't look at having a baby as something that anyone "deserves" least of all, him. He truly doesn't have a preference about how we bring a child into our family- whether through biology or adoption. He doesn't feel that going through the process is something he will miss. And he truly doesn't understand my reluctance or pain about the loss of that opportunity. I finally was able to come up with an analogy that he could understand. It is like a wedding. many women spend their entire lives "planning" their weddings in their heads. They have expectations for what they want it to look like. And eloping to Vegas might get you married, but you won't get a wedding out of it.

Having a baby is similar. I have pictured in my head all of the "moments"- telling DH, seeing baby on ultradounds, decorating baby's room, talking to baby in my womb, having baby showers, going into labor and a rush to the hospital, and that perfect moment of holding my child in my arms. DH thinks that bringing an adopted child into our home for the first time would have a similar feeling and it might. But I want all of those other things too.