Not So Quick Post-Transfer Update



Well, the transfer is over and now the two week wait begins.  Things are very different at the offices up here than they are where I usually go.  It is the same fertility center, but a different branch and I like my branch sooooooo much better.  People are not quite as friendly and the attention is not as personal up here, but it doesn’t matter…so long as I get pregnant.

I started out with pre-transfer acupuncture, and slept like a baby through the whole thing (always a good sign).  The acupuncturist was awesome, although The Prince was quite convinced that the man smokes copious amounts of pot.  If not, he is just the most mellow man in the world.  I don’t care either way…he was great. 

Then it was on to transfer.  They weren’t concerned about The Prince’s eye, as he was up by my head and was in his usual scrubs, hair net, goggles outfit.  The doctor came in and said that we had 12 amazing blasts, the most beautiful batch he had ever seen.  Seriously!!!  All 12 of the fertilized eggs made it to 5 day blastocytes.  Go donor and go super swimmers.  The picture above is the picture of our little litter.

After showing us the picture, the doctor asked if we wanted to put only 10 or all 12 back in and then laughed.  He agreed with our assessment that two was the best number for us.  He left for awhile, came back in with a nurse and a resident (who observed only) and asked me to skootch down on the table.  Here’s where it started to suck…without any warning he put a cold speculum in, scraping the top of ..well…you know…as he went.  My doctor at home warms the speculum, lubes everything up really well, gives you lots of warning, asks if the pressure is okay, and apologizes the whole way through.  This doctor…not such a romancer.  I yelped and he said “Did that hurt?  Okay, I want you to close your eyes and say ‘I am relaxed, this is easy.’”  I was trying to breath through the pain, but he kept insisting that I “say the mantra,” so I said it to appease him.  I wanted to say “Let me stick that speculum somewhere on you while you say ‘I am relaxed and this is easy,’” but I refrained.

Then, the doctor said “I’ll be right back” and actually left the room with me laying there with the speculum in.  That was new experience for me…and not a pleasant one I must say.  A minute went by, then 5…I was ready to send The Prince out to see what was going on when the crew came back in with our embies in the catheter.  I deep breathed, as instructed, during the actual transfer…and then the best part….

The doctor (who is a bit of a hippy if I haven’t mentioned that before…seriously…like he’s a guru and doctor) took my hand and The Prince’s hands and asked us to form a “hand circle” for “the most important part of the whole process.”  The doctor then asked us to close our eyes (like we were saying Grace) and he said “I want you to see these two most beautiful, amazing, awesome embryos settling into your uterus, as your uterus holds and squeezes them…filling them with love.  Now I want you to picture them growing into babies and you holding those babies in your arms on the day they are born.  If you believe, you can manifest anything.  Believe in these babies.  Say it with me, ‘I believe’….”

At that point, The Prince, a devout atheist and hater of all things hokey, was squeezing my hand so hard, I thought it was going to break off.  I finally conceded and chanted “I believe” with the guru…uh hm…doctor, and he left the room, instructing us to continue manifesting our desired outcome over the next couple of weeks.  It was sweet, really, but hilarious, too.  I started laughing as soon as the door shut behind the doctor, even though I was trying not to because I didn’t want to push out the embryos.  The Prince said I owe him big time because he refrained from laughing while the guy was in there…and he let the doctor hold his hand.  (On a strange side note, The Prince then told me that the doctor must work out because he has the hand muscles that only people who lift heavy weights get…strange how much attention he was paying to that doctor’s hand…but whatever).  I stayed on the table for half an hour, not sure what we were waiting for (manifesting time, maybe?) because no one was big on giving us much information while we were there. 

Finally, a nurse came in and gave us a picture of the two embryos we put in…the best of the best!  (See below)

I went back for another session of acupuncture, and fell asleep so hard, that the acupuncturist had my husband come in to wake me up.  When I awoke and The Prince explained what had happened.  I said, “Well go get the guy so he can take the needles out of me.”  The Prince explained that the poor guy already had removed all the needles and had gently shaken me…but then literally couldn’t wake me up.  And I hadn’t even taken a Valuum this time, as they forgot to give me one before the procedure.  The Prince apparently gave me a light punch in the arm, which did the trick.  Nice.

I’m back at the hotel now.  The Prince is gone and I am on my own for the next couple of days.  I’ve already sampled the room service and I really lucked out in picking this hotel…the room service was delicious!  I think I’m going to sleep now and dream happy dreams of two little babies growing in my belly.  I’ll write more tomorrow.  Have a Happy Hamish Day, everyone. 

Eggstatic!!!

Tuesday's Throne

This morning was the longest morning of my life…or at least as much of my life as I can remember.  I waited and waited and waited and waited for the donor coordinator to call me with the status update- how many eggs were collected from the 15-18 follicles, how many fertilized, etc.  She had said that she would call this morning with that update and I anticipated that she meant late morning.  But then, morning passed and the call never came.

So at 1:00 p.m., I decided to call her.  Her voicemail message said that she had gone home for the day and would be returning messages on Monday afternoon.  Seriously?!?  When my transfer would either be Monday or Tuesday!  So, I called the fertility center’s main line and spoke to the office operator and then a nurse who was able to find my chart.  This is how the conversation went:

Nurse: Okay…so your transfer has been scheduled already for 9:15 a.m. on Tuesday.

Me:     Okay…but do you have the numbers of eggs and how many fertilized?  I didn’t get any update today at all.

Nurse: Really?  Oh.  Sorry about that.  Let me see here….16 eggs, 14 were injected with your husband’s sperm and 12 fertilized.  So you have 12 embryos to work with for now and we’ll do the Day 5 transfer on Tuesday.

Me:     No.  I think that is the total number you are reading.  We did a split   cycle…sharing the eggs…and the donor only had 15 follicles, so that can’t be our numbers.  OH MY GOD!  Please tell me they didn’t accidentally fertilize ALL of the eggs with my husband’s sperm and forget to split them.

Nurse: One second…nope.  That is the split numbers.  Your donor did really well…over 30 eggs.

Me:     Are you really sure you have the right chart?

Nurse: Positive.  You have 12 so far…congratulations.  We’ll see you on Tuesday.

HOLY CRAP!!!  I am so excited and so scared that the phone is going to ring, telling me it was a mistake.  I guess the coordinator’s comment that “they don’t always count the follicles carefully during the scans” was a bit of an understatement.  (By the way…today pushed me over the edge.  Lots of you have recommended that I say something about the coordinator after this cycle is over and I really didn’t want to…but enough is enough.  Not calling me today, even though she looked at my chart long enough to schedule my transfer, was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  But I’m setting my irritation aside for now so that I can just be ecstatic.)

I know that a lot can happen between now and Tuesday, but I have so much confidence that Tuesday…whether it results in a pregnancy or not…is not going to be a disappointing day in our journey…and that was something I was genuinely concerned about over the last week.  Instead, things went better than I ever could have expected…even with the donor’s usual response.  As Ants would say “I’m over the moon!” 

Thank you so much for all of your support, prayers, thoughts and good vibes.  I’ll check back in soon.  Right now, I have to go massage my face because I’m not used to smiling this big for this long, and it hurts. (Okay...so really I'm going to do a happy dance in the bathroom, but my face really does hurt).    



Time For The Prince's Quest...

WARNING:  THIS PARTICULAR POST HAS LOTS OF DISCUSSION REGARDING THE MALE PORTION OF THE FERTILITY EQUATION, SO IF YOU ARE SPERMAPHOBIC, I WON’T BE OFFENDED IF YOU SKIP THIS ONE.

We FINALLY have our retrieval day scheduled!  The donor has 15-18 follicles that will be ready for retrieval tomorrow (Thursday).  I’ve developed a peace with the fact that the follicle numbers aren’t what I had hoped for…and I’ve immediately replaced my new-found peace with a new-found worry - can The Prince complete tomorrow's quest on his own?

The Prince’s “contribution” needs to be at the fertility clinic at 7:30 a.m. tomorrow.  Only, The Prince has to bring his sample in, as he can’t collect at the fertility center.  I’m sympathetic.  He has “performance anxiety” around me when under pressure, so I can see how being in a strange room, in a fertility center, knowing that hundreds of men use that room for only one purpose, could ruin the mood. 

The Prince and I (and our fertility team here at home) are used to our “home collection system.”  He makes love to a clean catch cup, and then I keep it warm from the time of collection to the time it gets to the clinic.  It can’t be jostled, and (most importantly) you have 15 minutes from collection to when it needs to be at the center.  The Prince will never take it to the center himself, as he gets embarrassed (which he promises won't be an issue tomorrow).  So, I end up taking it in for him (handing over a little cup of sperm is about the least embarrassing thing I go through each cycle).  I can’t tell you how many trips I’ve made to our fertility clinic (which is a little over 15 minutes away if driving at the speed limit), with a cup of swimmers tucked in my cleavage (the ultimate incubator), thinking about how I would explain the situation to a police officer if I were pulled over for speeding.

The plan was originally for The Prince and me to leave at 9:00 p.m. tonight, after he returned from teaching his night lecture, to embark on the two and a half hour drive to the hotel near the fertility center.  I was really hurt when he suggested that I sit out this trip and that he just go alone.  I already feel so removed from this situation.  I need to feel like I’m a part of the conception process to the extent possible.  But it has occurred to me that: (A) it makes no sense for me to spend 5 of 11 hours in a car, getting only a little sleep and missing a half day of work….which is what will happen if I go, and (B) my presence in the hotel room will likely have the same effect on The Prince as using the room at the fertility clinic.  The truth is, fertility treatments have taken a toll on our sex life that I just couldn’t have seen coming (bad choice of words, I know).  Even with the help of Viagara, The Prince equates sex with our unsuccessful baby-making efforts and the pressure is too much for him, so he doesn’t even want to try.  

I’m sad that The Prince will be taking on tomorrow's quest on his own, but I'm also nervous.  As I’m sure we’ve all been told the ideal is that our partners will have “exercised the demons” no more than 7 days before retrieval and no less than 4 days before retrieval.  I know that I haven’t been performing any exorcisms with The Prince during this time, so I have to hope that he’s been doing a solo act.  Only…I can’t ask because he specifically asked me not to.  Apparently, I make things much worse on him by micromanaging his physical end of things (who, me?).  I get it…I just also know that if I asked him today what the proper window was, he would have no clue.  He can’t be trusted to get this stuff right, as awful as that is to say.  It’s not his fault…it’s just who he is…details are my things not his.  But combine the need to be detail-oriented to the concept of masturbation, and you are asking for disaster.  So…The Prince's mastrubation timeframe is yet another thing I am just going to have to accept as being out of my hands (Dear God, will the awful puns never end?).

The Prince has another task tomorrow, too… a gesture that is SO important to me.  He needs to bring the donor’s gift, card and letter with him to the clinic.  I am terrified that The Prince is going to come back with that stuff sitting in his car, right where I will have packed it for him (so he doesn’t smoosh it into his suitcase).  My plan is to call him at 7:35, when “his deed” should be done (God forbid that I interrupt that…seriously) but he won’t be far away from the clinic, so he can turn around the car and bring the gift back to the clinic if necessary.  When I explained his task to him he said “What?  Do you think I’m incompetent?”  I said that I did not “but…” and then I listed off about six situations in the last month where he has forgotten to do something important and I had to call, or make an extra trip somewhere, to fix his oversight.  I hate to be a mother hen, and I try to pick my battles, but the truth is, I feel like pinching his cheeks and saying “My little man is headed into battle…good for you…,” as I pin a reminder note on his shirt.

I am just going to visualize all of this going smoothly…or me writing an update to you tomorrow about how amazing The Prince did and how my fears were baseless.  I am trying to have faith that when he really needs to, my prince can rise to the occasion (UGH!  It happened again…I'm stopping this post before it gets any worse).



Did They Put Happy Pills In My Intralipids?

Today has been one of those “sun breaks through the clouds and birds fly around your head singing their sweet melodies, while flowers bloom under your feet” kind of days (cue Nina Simone's "Feelin' Good").  My alarm went off at 5:15 a.m. and I thought “What do I want to do today?”  It didn’t take me long to have a response… Sleep in!  So…while I can’t indulge in that particular wish every day, I decided to take a couple hours worth of vacation time at work and sleep in, guilt-free, because that was my “pleasurable thing for the day.”

I went directly from home to the fertility center, for my intralipids.  I didn’t realize I would be in one of the procedure rooms, but that ended up being great because the temperature control in those rooms is awesome and the table/chair is actually really comfortable when you don’t have your legs up in the awful stirrups.  I even was able to stay dressed...completely dressed...no gown!  One of my favorite nurses went over the paperwork with me, explaining that research indicates that intralipids may help with pregnancy by attacking natural killer cells, but noting that there is no definitive study proving intralipids’ effect on pregnancy outcome.  The nurse explained that the intralipids, a little bag of milky white substance, was only about 100 calories…but 100 calories of pure fat from eggs and soy beans.  I was told that I would need to drink 80 ounces of water, at least, today and that I should be peeing opaque white urine for a day or so.  I’m really glad she told me that last part because the doctor probably wouldn’t have appreciated my late night call, inquiring as to why I was peeing milk.  After the paperwork was out of the way, the IV drip was started, the lights were dimmed, I was given a lavender eye pillow and was ordered to relax for a couple of hours. 

I did relax, eventually…but initially I called the donor coordinator for my update.  She was pleasant (I told you it had been a great day) and she said that my donor is definitely a split cycle donor – she has lots more than 15 follicles, it was just too early to be accurate before.  Because the donor has just really gotten the bulk of the follicles growing, the egg retrieval date has been bumped.  So now, it looks like next Wednesday will be the retrieval day, as they anticipate the donor will be ready for her trigger injection when she gets checked on Monday.  So, my schedule has changed and I still have to wait for another update, but I’m not freaking out about it.  I’m just so elated that I can stop obsessing about the number of eggs to embryo ratios.  And “lots more than 15” was a perfect way for the donor coordinator to describe it to me…because I can’t develop a chart of possible outcomes with “lots.”

After hearing our happy news, and listening to The Prince whine over the phone about how he wished the egg retrieval was still Monday (who was that, a couple of days ago, that was telling me to suck it up and roll with the punches because we can't control these things?), I put my lavender eye pillow on (they seriously make the intralipid infusion a spa treatment at my fertility center), and relaxed.  I dozed for awhile and then…a knock at the door.

My RE had come in for a surprise visit.  I joked that I hadn’t ever noticed how tall he was since I could never see over my legs in the air, and he joked that he hadn’t noticed what nice eyes I had…or that I even had eyes.  He asked me how I was doing.  But when I launched into how the cycle was going he said “That’s great.  But how are you doing?  How’s work?  Have you been doing anything fun outside of the joy of infertility?”  Myabe this doesn't sound like a big deal...but my RE is busy.  Super busy!  And I know that he had been doing procedures all this morning and that Friday is his only day of the week that he can go home early.  I was so moved that he came in just to chat with me.  We talked about books and how irrational humans are and about how he is disappointed that he won’t be the one doing my embryo transfer but he is so pleased that he will get to experience my prenatal ultrasound with me and The Prince.  Have I mentioned how much I adore our RE?

So anyways, I now have the whole weekend to rest, or clean, or go and visit with my husband’s family on Easter.  I smile every time I think about our egg donor and this cycle.  I’m sure the rollercoaster isn’t over yet, and I know there are still twists and dips ahead, but it really feels good to be sitting at the top, looking out and feeling like all is right with the world, at least for today.



The Poster Child of Flexible Thinking Takes A Tumble From Her Pedestal

I feel like this cycle, even more than my other cycles, has been a lesson in learning to be more flexible.  But I also feel like I’m not a very good student.  I’ve been so proud of myself for adjusting from my initial attitude about using donor eggs.  I started out seeing this cycle as an admission of my own failure, but now realize that having a life growing inside of me is what I want, and it is okay if that happens in a way that I hadn’t anticipated initially.  Yep.  Lately I have been patting myself on the back, crowning myself The Poster Child of Flexible Thinking.  But then…today happened.

You may remember that the donor coordinator told me on Wednesday that I should call her today, between 2:00 and 3:00, for an update on my donor’s progress.  So today, after staring at the clock for hours…willing the second hand to move faster… I called the donor coordinator at 2:01.  She answered my call by asking what I needed.  She had completely forgotten that I would be calling for the update.  I ignored the initial pang of irritation I felt, as I was still excited at that point…waiting to hear how great things are going with the donor.  Instead, the donor coordinator said: “It still looks like Monday may be our likely egg retrieval day.  The donor is doing well and has about 12 to 15 follicles developing.” 

I know…in a normal cycle 12 to 15 follicles is great.  But we are doing a “split cycle,” so we only get half of the eggs to work with, and some of those will inevitably be immature.  Of the mature eggs, some won’t fertilize.  And out of those that are left, some won’t divide properly.  That’s not great odds anymore.  In our donor's past cycles (in which she's had 25 eggs each time), the recipients (who were not splitting the 25 eggs) ended up with 7 to 9 embryos.  So...halve that for the split cycle (3-5) and halve that because she has half the follicles now (1-3)...and you can see why I am concerned.  This math occurred instantaneously in my head when I heard the phrase “12 to 15.”

Panicking, I asked the coordinator “What happened?”  She said “What do you mean?  It’s early still.”  I said “But she usually has 25 eggs, so shouldn’t she have twice as many follicles as she has now, since some of the follicles will be empty?” 

The coordinator (who has clearly tired of my constant pestering) said “Well we don’t always carefully measure all of the follicles and, like I said, it is early.  But 15 is a good number.” 

I wanted to scream “That’s easy for you to say.  You’re not the one pinning all of your hopes (and a large sum of money) on this cycle.”  But I didn’t. 

Instead I called my husband and complained to him.  The Prince told me to knock it off…that 15 is a good number.  I went through the explanation of everything I mentioned above, and he said “Whatever…it’s a good number.  You can’t plan your way into getting more eggs, so let it go.”  He wasn’t being mean, but apparently he has tired of my constant pestering as well.  Perhaps I should send The Prince and the donor coordinator to lunch some time so they can both get a break from me and my constant worrying.

I am so upset with this situation.  First, why would the fertility center not measure every follicle when there are two recipients who are waiting to hear how many follicles have formed?  It isn’t much of an update if “12 to 15” could mean “12 to 15” or “20 to 30.”  Second, shouldn’t the coordinator know if this is a normal number for my donor at this time…and whether the donor will show 12 to 15 now, only to have almost double that at retrieval day?  This is my donor’s third cycle.  Why do we not have a better idea of how long her cycles take and what is typical for her at this stage?

As I type this, a little voice inside of me is saying “What is wrong with you?  Even with only 15 follicles, you would still probably have at least 4 or 5 good quality eggs to work with, and you are only planning on transferring 2 embryos…not such bad odds.  And give it a rest with the donor stats.  Even with the same person, each cycle is totally different, remember?”  But that little voice is getting pummeled by the much larger and very unreasonable part of me…the part that had her heart set on having 9 to 10 mature eggs to work with, based on the donor’s past cycles. 

Why can’t I take this news and say “It’s quality not quantity that is important” or “I know how quickly cycles can change and it is way too early to even react to this news because it could be meaningless” or “It’s so great that things are moving forward on the anticipated timeline so I don’t have to adjust my schedule.”  Why am I so rigid and controlling that I freak out about anything that falls outside of the scope of the fairy tale I’ve written in my head about where this cycle is headed?  I’m not just disappointed with the news from the coordinator…I’m really disappointed in myself and my very negative reaction to information that isn’t even that negative.  I know that we all have internal dialogue and we all have the ability to choose which voice we place our focus on.  So I guess I will just have to try to keep focusing on that poor pummeled whisper that is telling me I’m crazy to let this rattle me and to stop being such an obsessive worrier.  Perhaps that voice would like to attend the aforementioned lunch as well.

The Gift

How do you thank someone for giving you the most precious gift there is...the gift of life?  Obviously, nothing would ever be adequate...but wouldn't you have to try?  I've thought long and hard about whether to write this post...whether describing what I am presenting to our donor somehow becomes cheapened if I share it with anyone other than her.  Ultimately, what made me decide to share the information in this post was my memory of how this blog started.  I started writing "The Princess and the Pee Stick" because I needed to work through my emotions and feelings surrounding infertility and the donor egg process, without regard for how my thoughts and words were received.  I need to write this post because deciding how to thank our egg donor has been something that has consumed me for some time now.  I am still working through whether I am getting this right.  So, I'm putting this out there in hopes that, as with other issues in the past, this blog helps to reassure me and clarify my thoughts and feelings on this issue.

I've known for awhile now that I wanted to give our donor a small gift and a note, attempting to express our appreciation for what she is putting herself through to help our dreams come true.  The gift, as you might expect, was much easier to find than were the words for the letter.  But even deciding on a gift wasn't easy.  I had read on some egg donor blogs that, while they felt uncomfortable when the recipients bought them expensive jewelry, most appreciated smaller tokens of appreciation that were clearly from the heart.  I decided to get our donor a Willow Tree angel.  These wooden  and wire angel sculptures are about 6 inches tall, and are incredibly expressive, despite their lack of facial features.  I decided to give our donor the one I've pictured above.  She is the Angel of Gratitude.  I went back and forth for a long time trying to decide which angel to get, but when I saw her, I thought that she was the best fit.  She looks a little like me, a little like the donor, and she has blue flowers behind her back (and my donor's favorite color is blue).

When I went to the Hallmark store to buy the gift, I stumbled upon a "Thank you for being our donor" card...no kidding!  Who knew that they made such a card?  On the outside of the card, it says "What you did was amazing, beyond generous and kind.  You started a miracle.  You have given the gift of life."  And on the inside it says "How can anyone thank you enough for that?"

The card is great, but I wanted to personalize the message as well (we all know that I am not a "short and sweet" kind of girl...I'm a little long-winded).  This is my one chance to express my feelings to our donor, and I'm not going to be shy about saying what is in my heart.  I'm ending this post with the draft of the letter that I intend to put in the card because...well...I think it says everything I have to say today.

"Dear Donor,

Words could never adequately express how grateful we are for the amazing gift you have given to us.  For three long years we have gone through one failed IVF cycle after another, trying desperately to complete our family.  We know what a commitment it is, both physically and emotionally, to go through the process of injections and monitoring, and we really appreciate what you've done to help us reach our goal of raising a family.

We have come to view ourselves as a mother and father without a child and, until you came along, it seemed that our dream of holding our baby in our arms might never come true.  You have provided us with the chance to become the parents that we know in our hearts we are meant to be.  You are our angel of hope and, although we can never repay your kindness and generosity, please know that we acknowledge how truly beautiful and special you are.  Regardless of how this cycle turns out, we cannot thank you enough for your selfless sacrifice.  You will always have a special place in our hearts.

Wishing you happiness, health and joy always,

The Mother and Father-to-be."

Competing for the "Triple Stripe"

                                                                

Sorry I haven’t written in awhile, ladies.  I promise to catch-up on everyone’s posts as soon as possible.  I had no news to report over the weekend, as I was participating in Mind Games the entire weekend (playing and judging 30 board games in 40 hours…UGH!).  I managed to get through the games (with a total of 7 hours of sleep between Friday morning and Sunday afternoon)…and I didn’t cry or scream once…my hormones remained in-check.  The experience left me exhausted and sore, but it did keep me from obsessing over this cycle and, for that, I am thankful. 

Today I received good news (finally).  My uterine lining is AWESOME!!!  The highest measurement that my clinic gives is the “Triple Stripe” (when the two uterine walls are so thick that they touch in the middle, creating an image on the ultrasound that looks like three stripes).  “Triple Stripe” occurs at 12-13 mm.  After one week on Estrace, my lining is at 10-11 mm, and I have at least another week and a half on the meds, before transfer.  I feel like I should cut out a construction paper blue ribbon, or silver star, to paste on my shirt when I achieve “Triple Stripe” status.  I need something to acknowledge my entrance into the elite class of infertiles who are blessed with perfect uterine linings.  This morning, my nurse (who is all too familiar with my uterus) was very excited.  She said it was the best she had ever seen my lining look…from a size and quality perspective.  Yeah!  So, I’ll continue what I’m doing and weather the side effects for a little longer, knowing that I am already going into this cycle with a leg up on previous cycles.

All that I need now is an update on how the donor is doing.  The donor started her stimulation medication on Thursday, so it has only been 5 days.  My stimulation always took around 19 days, so I assumed it would be too early for the donor’s ultrasound to show anything.  But my nurse this morning confirmed that my donor was having an ultrasound and blood work today, and she said that I should be getting a call from the donor coordinator, updating me on the donor’s progress.  The suspense is killing me. 

In the meantime, because (so far) we are on schedule for a transfer late next week, my intralipid administration has been set up for this Friday.  This will be our first time trying intralipids and I’m oddly excited about doing it.  Who knew I would ever get excited about getting fat pumped into me through an IV? 

I think The Prince summed it up best in marriage counseling this weekend, when he said that he is confident about this cycle working for us because everything we are doing is different than what we tried in the past.  To him, “different” feels like “good” and it gives him hope.  He’s right.  Every aspect of this cycle is so different from our past cycles, so it feels like the outcome has to be different as well.  I haven’t felt this positive or excited about an IVF cycle in a long time.  I really missed this feeling.  It feels good to hope again.

*******UPDATE*******

I contacted the donor coordinator by email, after not hearing from her, and I said I wasn't rushing her but I just was wondering if we were going to get an update on our donor's progress after each of her appointments, or if we would only be told if something changed the schedule. 

Her reply - "The donor was in this morning for her first ultrasound since starting her medications.  She will return Wednesday and Friday.  Please contact me both days between 2 and 3 if you need an update." 

Irritated...but still desperate for information, I replied "Thanks.  I'll call Wednesday and Friday.  Was everything okay today, though?  I know it is still early." 

Her reply - "She has follicles developing.  They are very small.  Good night!!!"

Am I wrong in feeling like this woman seems abrasive?  The three exclamation points didn't help...but I guess it could have indicated excitement and not irritation (which is how I read it).  The last time I talked to her, she was so nice...but now we are back to normal again.  Am I being too sensitive?  I guess I'll find out how things are going on Wednesday.   Oh well...I'm not going to let it ruin my Hope High.



Charging Into Battle

I am trying to put the family drama behind me to look forward to this cycle.  As many of you pointed out, I can do nothing to change the sister-situation, so it is a fruitless endeavor to worry and “what if” the situation to death.  Fretting about the fate of my niece and nephew has left me exhausted, sore (my mind-body connection is a little too strong) and frustrated.  I need to look forward to this donor egg cycle with positivity and hope…because it is coming with challenges all its own.  So with a heavy heart, I am determined to lay down that burden and accept that some force greater than me will need to protect and watch over those children.  I cannot be their savior, but I could potentially become a Mommy of my own child very soon…and that child-to-be deserves my full attention right now.

Yesterday morning, I had my baseline ultrasound and blood work.  The nurse said things looked great on the ultrasound (and later I found out my blood level were perfect for baseline – Yeah!!!).  However, the nurse did not give me a tentative schedule, like they normally do at baseline appointments, because the donor coordinator needed to make sure neither my donor, nor the other recipient, had functional cysts.  The nurse told me that the other recipient “may” have had a problem with functional cysts in the past.  The donor has never had to stop a cycle because of a cyst but if she had one that was big enough, they would keep us all suppressed and try to shrink hers to make more room on her ovaries.  It had never occurred to me that things might not get started yesterday.  At first I was irritated, and then worried.  In fact, I got no work done, spending most of the day worrying obsessively and making a chart of all of the possible retrieval, transfer and beta dates.  I also threw in “first heartbeat,” “end of first trimester,” and singleton and twin due dates, for good measure.  That kept me busy and sane (or at least relatively sane) most of the day.  As the day went on, my irritation turned to sympathy for the other recipient and donor.  I thought, if I was the other recipient, I would be really sad to have spent all that money only to watch the cycle go on without me…making me wait for frozen eggs later on.  And, if the donor had a cyst, I’m sure she would be frustrated because she has been waiting a long time to get going on this cycle, too.  Plus, I would want to wait to give us the best chance at the most eggs.  It would be stupid to give up a higher egg count just because of my impatience.  So, by the afternoon, I had convinced myself that I would not totally freak out if the cycle was delayed.  I just needed to know.

Finally, at 3:00 p.m., I couldn’t take the suspense any longer and I called and left a message for the donor coordinator.  She called me back and was very pleasant…which gives me hope that maybe she becomes “warm and fuzzy” once you are in your donor cycle.  She said that the donor is baseline, has no cysts and is ready to go.  I asked about the other recipient and she said that I don’t need to worry about the other recipient and that will not be affecting my cycle.  I don’t know what that means, but whatever it means, the coordinator is probably right.  I should focus on my own cycle and the donor’s cycle.  That combo is stressful enough.

What I didn’t count on is how long the cycle is going to take.  I thought the donor would start her stims yesterday, making late next week the most likely time of egg retrieval.  I was wrong.  My lining takes a long time to build, so the donor will start her stims Thursday and the tentative egg retrieval date is Monday, the 25^th.  The 25^th is better, because of The Prince’s selfishly scheduled cosmetic surgery appointment, but I’m not great with change so I had to deep breathe my way through that part.  It’s so strange to have a “probably” date after all of this waiting. 

My medication protocol started in earnest yesterday.  I take estrogen pills three times a day, dexamethasone one time a day, an antibiotic every three days for twelve days (4 doses total…and The Prince takes those, too), and I continue the Lupron injections, baby aspirin, and prenatal vitamins.  I’ll get checked next Monday to see how my lining is doing and will likely have my intralipid IV next Friday.  Things are cruising right along now, but I will definitely be in my two week wait on Mother’s Day.  I am oddly relieved that I won’t know for sure if I am pregnant until after Mother’s Day is over (I might be rethinking that position when Mother’s Day actually comes along).  It would just be too hard to go through that day if I knew that our last chance failed.

So, it’s onward and upward.  Feel free to call me out if I seem to be getting sucked into serious negative thinking over the next couple of weeks.  I love the support and sympathy that you – my friends – are so graciously willing to give to me, but I am aware that feeling positive this cycle is more important than any temporary hurt feelings over any reality checks that get doled out…or at least that’s how I feel pre-estrogen taking over my body.  The Prince would definitely warn you not to say anything less than supportive, but he is not all of you…he can’t feel what I am feeling…and I know that all of you can, so it is different.  I know I say it a lot, but I really can’t tell you all how much it means to me to have you going through this journey with me.  I feel like I have my own little army of supporters, and it is such a relief not to be alone in this battle.



Once Again...Bloggers Save The Day!



Yesterday, after reading the lovely and informative comments to my post about the ethical dilemmas involved in using an egg donor, I went in search of further information.  Most of the blogs that I read on a daily basis are general infertility blogs.  So, I sought out some blogs of others who are going through the donor egg process.  I looked at the largest blogroll I am aware of – the stirrup queen’s list – and went through the blogs in the donor section, one at a time.  With the exception of two (one of whom had decided to adopt and one who had stopped trying to conceive for personal reasons), each one had either become a pregnancy or motherhood blog, or the blog had ceased after pregnancy was achieved.  At first I was sad that this meant there wasn’t anyone really writing from the same perspective as me right now…but then I realized how great it is that almost every person got pregnant.  That’s a great sign.

When I couldn’t find blogs of anyone actively going through a donor egg cycle from the recipient’s perspective, I started perusing the blogs written by egg donors as they go through the process of donation.  Just as the comments from all of my blogger buddies who have been egg donors were extremely helpful to me, the blogs of egg donors really put my mind at ease.  Not one of them expressed regrets…even years later…even if they are now facing infertility of their own because of endometriosis or some other non-egg related issue.  Many of them did feel an abstract loving bond with the children they had helped to create, but not one of them referred to the baby as “their baby,” or seemed sad that they had genetic offspring that they would likely never see.  They were happy just to have been able to give the gift of motherhood to someone who wanted it so badly.  I get teary-eyed just thinking about it.  Also, I was a little relieved to see that they approached each cycle the same way I do…with fears about how it is going to turn out.  They are emotionally invested in each cycle…wanting desperately to produce a pregnancy for the recipient couple.  They obsess over follicle counts and what to eat and what not to eat the same way I would.  They really put their heart and soul into making someone’s dreams come true.  That is not the actions of someone being coerced or acting upon financial motivation.  I left those blogs feeling so good about my decision to use an egg donor.  

Immediately after the flood of relief upon reading the donor blogs, I started crying to my husband.  I told him that I was so scared this wasn’t going to work.  He told me: “I think it is going to work.  There’s nothing to be scared of.”  But there is…the idea of this cycle not working is scary.  It wasn’t until that moment that I recognized that getting caught up in the analysis of whether my use of an egg donor has some great evil purpose is just a coping mechanism I used to keep my mind distracted from the real issue that I continue to want to hide from…what if it doesn’t work?  In my heart, I already knew that egg donation was a noble act on the part of the donor and a reasonable (not evil) act on the part of the recipient.  But I let myself get sidetracked with that issue based on movies and a few random comments of others, because, for the first time in my IF journey, I don’t know what the next chapter in my fairy tale is going to be if this chapter ends in another negative pregnancy test.  I always have a plan…a mental and emotional safety net for potential disappointment, to cushion the blow of a negative pregnancy test.  Not this time.  I just can’t fathom the “beyond” if it doesn’t happen for us with donor eggs.  But, I’m not going to distract myself with concerns over whether it is “right” for me to use an egg donor anymore.  It is.  I know in my heart that my smiling, self-described “spunky and fun-loving” donor is not a victim…she is an angel…a fairy godmother.  She is my best hope for a “happily ever after” and I truly believe that she is selflessly seeking to Bippity Boppity Boo me right into motherhood.  And I’m not going to spend one more second feeling guilty about letting her do it.



When does the acceptance of a gift become wrong?



In fairy tales, people frequently face ethical dilemmas.  Generally, those characters that make the right choice and go the altruistic route do well for themselves, while those that choose to do what is in their own interests don’t fair so well.  There are a lot of people out there who believe that I would be in the latter group when it comes to using an egg donor.  And being the dual personality (logic versus emotions) that I am, I sometimes struggle with the idea that they could be right.

In the last week, I have watched the movies “The Island” and “Never Let Me Go.”  For those of you who have not seen these movies, I will try not to give anything away.  But I will say that they both raise questions about the creation of people and/or clones for the express purpose of having those people/clones provide organs or reproductive capabilities to people who need them.  In both movies, it is clear that the message is that this is a horrific prospect and that there are lines we must be careful not to cross.  The problem is, when I was talking with a friend/coworker about these movies (a friend who doesn’t know that we are using an egg donor), she said “That’s the world we’re headed to.  They are already exploiting young girls and paying them to sell their eggs or their babies so that rich women can have children they aren’t meant to have.  Other women are being coerced into acting as incubators for other people’s babies.  People are meant to die.  Some people are not meant to have children.  Our population control depends on these things.”  I smiled and said “Oh.  I didn’t really see it that way.”  Then, I quickly walked away so I could hyperventilate in my own space.  This friend is not stupid, uneducated, cruel or excessively religious.  If she feels this way, how many other everyday people feel this way, too?

I guess I’ve always known that these attitudes exist.  But, every time I am actually confronted with someone expressing these attitudes, there is a small part of me that questions whether I am contributing to a moral slippery slope that could result in the world becoming the one that these movies depict.  I am taking the gift of someone’s reproductive tissue in order to fulfill my dream of being a mother, and I worry about how my donor will feel in the future about the decision she is making now.  But I choose to push that concern out of my mind so that I can be okay about using her eggs because emotionally, I have to. 

I understand that these aren’t the egg donor’s vital organs and that she is willingly giving her eggs to me, but she is being financially compensated (as well she should be), and I have heard people say “What is the difference between an egg donor and a poor person selling his heart to someone rich in order to get money to take care of his family?”  Other than the fact that one is a vital organ, I don’t know the answer.  The heart donor could say that he is donating for altruistic reasons.  And even though I do not believe that my egg donor is donating her eggs because her financial situation requires her to do so (there is no desperation or anything other than an altruistic attitude exhibited in her profile), what if I am wrong?  What if she looks back years from now and regrets her decision?  My mother gave a child up for adoption when she was 18 and living out of her car.  Even though she knows it was the best thing for the baby, she has never gone more than a couple of days without mentioning how sad she is, not knowing where and how her son is.  She still sees him as her son.  What if my donor feels that way?   

These thoughts make me crazy…usually in my dreams…but sometimes when I am awake.  I feel like the logic of the arguments against egg donation must fall apart somewhere…but I can’t find the flaw in the reasoning.  I don’t know if I can’t find the flaw because it doesn’t exist or because I am so close to this issue, I’m not able to view it without my emotional self getting in the way of clear thinking.  If anyone out there has some logical argument that I am missing here, please share it with me.  I could really use the peace of mind.



And They're Off...

The long awaited event has finally arrived.  My donor started her period yesterday, so we’re off to the races.  The donor coordinator didn’t call to let me know (big surprise), but there is an online “patient portal” where you can view your lab work, u/s results, instructions, consent forms and flow sheets for each cycle.  The flow sheet for my donor cycle had been updated with anticipated dates for the beginning of the cycle and apparently the consent forms, and the bill, are in the mail with my instructions. 

The patient portal says I will have my baseline ultrasound on April 1^st, to check that I am not pregnant, etc.  Then, if I am still suppressed (which I appear to be, as my period “scare” last Friday was a fluke that only lasted a few hours), we all move forward with medications (Lupron all around…assuming I need it) starting on April 3^rd.  The donor should get her period by the 8^th or 9^th, and she will have her baseline ultrasound on the 9^th.  Then, presuming all is well (pleeeeeeeze let it all be well), she will start her stimulation medications and the other recipient and I will start estrogen.  If the donor has an average stimulation cycle (8-12 days), egg retrieval will be around the 21^st.  Making my beta test right before Mother’s Day.  I guess better to know than not to know, right?

I had anticipated this schedule, and had told the Prince to hold open all of late April.  So, what does he do?  He schedules a surgery for himself for April 21^st!  He scheduled it last week.  I asked him to change it.  He refused.  And here we are…right where I expected us to be.  Realistically, we can get from the city where he has to drop off his "contribution" on egg retrieval day to our city within a couple of hours.  So…getting back by the time of his afternoon surgery won’t be a problem.  But really?!?  We need more stress right then?!?  Plus, he is having cartilage removed from behind his ear (a revision surgery of his prior “ear-pinning-back surgery” in July).  So he has to wear a bandage wrapped around his head and he will be on pain meds for a week after the surgery.  That means, come embryo transfer day, I will be driving to the other city (and back) and he will be attending what could be one of the most important events in our lives high on oxycodone…or worse…grumpy from pain.  He is adamant that he won’t reschedule and I am trying not to be angry with him, but it’s tough…with all of the sacrifices I am making…I just feel like he should be able to make this one sacrifice.  he would have to wait until July if he doesn't do the surgery now...but I feel like...it's cosmetic surgery...who cares?

So, bottom line, I am really excited that things are finally moving.  And I finally have a plan (phew!).  But, at the same time, I am frustrated with my husband.  I am scared about whether this is going to work.  I am concerned that things are starting without me being in a mentally positive place…something that has never happened before.  My track record shows that the power of positive thinking is crap…but what if it isn’t?  I feel like I need to believe this is going to work…and I’m not there.  I am also a little emotional about using a donor.  I know that the time has passed for me to be wavering on whether I am okay giving up on having a child that is genetically mine…and I know that if I get pregnant it won’t matter whose DNA is coursing through the baby’s veins.  But I still feel conflicted about giving up on that child I had dreamed of…the one with my eyes and my hair and my crooked smile.  My ultimate dream, right now, is being able to enjoy this cycle.  I want to not stress out about every little thing (including my husband’s toddler ways) and just be happy that I have an opportunity that so many women never have.  I want to be thrilled that my chances of getting pregnant are insanely higher than they’ve ever been.  I want to be grateful for the gift the donor is giving me.  I just wish wanting to change how I feel was enough to cause the change to occur.  For now, I will have to settle for going to yoga and acupuncture tonight, and praying for a breakthrough.

P.S.  Thank you so much, ladies, for following this blog and posting your thoughtful and kind comments.  I don’t get to go back and comment on your comments very often, but I want you to know that they make all the difference in the world to me and I can’t imagine doing this without you…whoever you are.  J





Why Do You Put Yourself Through All of This?

Today I was crying on the phone to a friend.  I told her about my breakdown yesterday and about how crazy I feel, waiting to get started on our egg donor cycle, knowing that there is a chance that the cycle will fail.  She said “Why do you put yourself through all of this?”  And with that, I had to get off the phone.  I’ve been asked that question more times than I can count over the last couple of years.  Sometimes by well-meaning women who dealt with infertility many years ago, but didn’t have the technology available to them that we now have available to us.  Sometimes by family members who have no idea what it is like to deal with infertility (I have 42 cousins…fertility is not generally a problem in my family).  And sometimes by my own fertility friends who have changed the direction of their journeys toward adoption or child-free living.  Each time, no matter who is asking the question, I get upset.

How do you explain why you put yourself through the emotional ups and downs of infertility?  How do you explain why you would choose to spend thousands of dollars and give yourself countless injections of medications that make you crazy for a chance of getting pregnant?  How do you explain that you are choosing to give up a genetic link with your child in order to have a chance of having a child at all?  I can’t think of any explanation that adequately addresses the dreaded question “Why do you put yourself through all of this?”  Maybe I dread this question because the question itself implies that there is or should be a choice involved, and, for me, for now, there just isn't.  I have to keep trying.  I can't help it.

For me, the thought of not having a child is much like one of the saddest quotes I’ve ever read from a fairy tale. 

“The little mermaid knew this was the last evening she should ever see the prince, for whom she had forsaken her kindred and her home; she had given up her beautiful voice, and suffered unheard-of pain daily for him, while he knew nothing of it.  This was the last evening that she would breathe the same air with him....An eternal night, without a thought or a dream, awaited her.”  

                                                ~Hans Christian Andersen, “The Little Mermaid” (1836)

Giving up on having a child would feel like that….entering an eternal night, without a thought or a dream awaiting me.  I’ve alienated friends and family who disagree with my choices regarding ART, spent lots of money on ART, lost little pieces of the person I used to be throughout the last couple of years, and endured an untold amount of physical and emotional pain because I yearn for a child of my own, just as the little mermaid yearned to be with her prince.  The very idea of giving up on my dream now, of walking away after everything I've put into this endeavor, is more unspeakable than anything I might endure in the pursuit of motherhood.  

Not everyone feels the way I do, and I respect that.  In fact, I have numerous friends who have chosen child-free living post-infertility and they ALL say they wish they had made the decision a long time ago.  They’ve found happiness.  I applaud them.  Maybe one day, I will end up being one of them.  But for now, I want to hold on to my dream.  I am not ready for it to be over.  The thought of giving up my dream takes the breath from me, and I guess that is “why I put myself through all of this.”  Because I must.

Waiting Patiently...Okay, Not So Patiently

Today, I came home sick from work with the cold that everyone has right now…but I didn’t sleep and rest as I’d planned.  Instead, I tossed and turned, thinking “When is my donor going to start her period already?”  How absurd!!!  I’m getting impatient because another person’s body has not gotten onboard with my timeline.  I can’t start our donor cycle meds until about three weeks after our donor coordinator calls to announce that our donor has started her “Cycle Day 1,” so I’m getting antsy.  I’m a planner and I will plan and analyze myself to death if I don’t have something to do, to keep myself busy.  I am not very good at waiting.

In fairy tales the princesses often have to wait for something – a prince to come, a spell to wear-off, a rescue to occur.  You never hear about the princesses pacing the floor, tossing and turning at night, and grumbling about things not moving along quickly enough.  That is because princesses in fairy tales are virtuous, and we all know that patience is a virtue.  I, apparently, am a less virtuous princess than the norm.  I have to keep breathing and telling myself that I don’t need to be rushing things.  It is better that this donor cycle unfolds exactly as it is meant to…in its own time.  And although I know this, it isn’t easy to push down my impatience. 

We all know that once you finish waiting for one thing on the journey of infertility, you just start waiting for another.  You wait for your period, wait for your period to be over, wait for RE appointments, wait to be called in for blood work and ultrasounds, wait for the results from your blood work and ultrasounds, wait for your medication protocol, wait for the next part of your protocol to get started, wait to find out how many follicles you have, wait for ovulation day, wait to find out how many eggs you have, wait to find out how many eggs fertilized, wait to see what types of embryos you have to work with for IVF, and of course…the 2 week wait to find out if you are pregnant.  Even then, if you get your positive test, you have to wait for a second beta test and for an ultrasound to confirm that the pregnancy “took.”  That’s a lot of waiting for anyone to go through and that list is in no way exhaustive.  No wonder so many of us feel like our lives have been put on hold while we deal with our fertility challenges.  When you are that busy waiting, how is it possible to fit in living your life?

So now that I know what my problem of the day is (i.e.-I’m getting caught up in waiting impatiently for something I have no control over), what do I do about it?  I don’t know what I’ll do about it tomorrow, but I can tell you what I am doing tonight.  I am (oh yeah…even in between typing these paragraphs) dancing around my living room to the song “Dog Days Are Over” by Florence + the Machine.  Fever, headache and all…I’m flailing around in my nightgown, sweatshirt and slippers, with a huge smile on my face.  Not a pretty picture for anyone watching, but it is fun.  That’s my plan…just try to have fun wherever I can find it, until I get the phone call from the donor coordinator that I am waiting for.  Then, I can plan a little more…then back to dancing, or cooking, or whatever it is that tickles my fancy that day.  Maybe that’s how the fairy tale princesses pulled off waiting so gracefully…they didn’t let themselves get bored and they found fun and excitement wherever they could.  And things just fell into place for them, just like it is going to for all of us one of these days.