The Devil You Know...

We have a doula!  After the fiasco that has been going on with the pregnancy over the last couple of days, it is such a relief to have something settled…something set in stone.  I will write a post soon talking a little about our doula, how the interview really changed The Prince’s perspective, and about my expectations going into this situation.  But, for today, I have some loose ends that I need to tie up. 

My appointment with Dr. B yesterday was really frustrating (again).  One person tells me I have an emergency situation and then another person, from the same office, tells me that maybe I have an ear infection.  In the course of the couple of hours I was at Dr. B’s office, I received three conflicting theories about what could be causing the dizziness and fainting.  None of the theories adequately explain the situation in my mind and the only “treatment” offered was “lay down whenever you start feeling dizzy.”  Really?  I’m going to lay on the floor at work?  Or better yet, lay on the sidewalk on my walk from the parking garage into work?  The baby’s heart rate is good and regular, and the baby is still kicking the Doppler probe, so it seems as though my little one is still unaffected by everything that has been going on.  Still, in part because my blood glucose levels are still not in the ideal range in Dr. B’s opinion, I was strongly encouraged to keep my anatomy scan appointment at the end of this month (as if wild horses could drag me away from a chance to see our baby again…and hopefully find out the gender).

I have an appointment with Dr. B the same day as the scan.  Last night, I realized, that is likely going to be my “break-up” appointment.  The Prince thinks we should just go to a new doctor and have them arrange the transfer of our records, to avoid any awkwardness.  But I would hate it if someone did that to me in my professional life.  I am strongly considering looking into finding a new OBGYN who actually works at a third hospital in our area (not the small one, or the large teaching hospital I’ve previously blogged about).  The third hospital, we’ll call it Pete’s, is even closer to us than the teaching hospital and Pete’s has remodeled its labor and maternity ward, creating private rooms and better facilities.  We hadn’t considered Pete’s as an option previously because we assumed we would be using Dr. B, and she doesn’t deliver at Pete’s.  But my relationship with Dr. B is cooling quickly and so Pete’s is back on the table as a possibility.  There are still advantages to giving birth at the teaching hospital, but our doula (who has attended over 50 births in all of the area hospitals) mentioned that, out of the three hospitals we are considering, Pete’s is the best about allowing the mother to birth her way (i.e., walking around or laying in a tub as necessary, having a doula in the OR during a c-section, etc.).  Plus, if we choose to use Pete’s, the break-up with Dr. B is easy – “Sorry.  We decided we want to deliver at Pete’s.  It stinks that you don’t have privileges there, but it is so close to our home, we just feel it is the right move for us.  Could you transfer our records to Dr…?”   

Last night I couldn’t sleep because I got so anxious about what to do about my relationship with Dr. B.  I haven’t blogged about all of the issues I’ve had with Dr. B, but there have been a lot of small oversights that have created more work for me (involving her filling out my Family Medical Leave Act Paperwork wrong) and could have potentially been dangerous for the baby (a medication mix-up).  Plus, yesterday she accidentally provided me with information about my anonymous donor…information Dr. B had obtained for genetic testing purposes that I wasn’t supposed to have, and didn’t want to know.  I don’t know whether I am more upset that I know some of my donor’s information (somehow, I feel like my privacy was violated, even though it was the donor’s basic information that was divulged) or if I am more upset that Dr. B was so absent-minded that she could look right at me and try to confirm that my birthdate is the birthdate of a 23 year old from another part of the state.  Either way, I’m not sure I can salvage this relationship.

But, I am anxious about the prospect of finding a new doctor – the whole “better the devil you know than the devil you don’t know” thing.  I am anxious about choosing the right OBGYN (as I apparently struck-out this time) and the right hospital.  I know that the end result is the same regardless of where I choose to give birth…I bring home a healthy baby.  But I care about the experience leading up to the end result.  I care about feeling comfortable with my OBGYN.  And, while I know that no choice I make will cause any catastrophic repercussions, I still feel like these are important decisions…and I want to get them right.   

To end this blog on a high note…our genetic testing came back (even though I had to ask for the results because Dr. B’s office forgot to send them to me) and our baby has a 1 in 10,000 chance of having each of the genetic abnormalities for which they test.  And…The Prince is reading an evolutionary psychology book about parenting.  He has informed me that studies show that the chance of a baby being born with an IQ over 130 is 7%.  But, in mothers who have hyperemesis beyond the first trimester, that number goes up to 30%.  Researchers can’t figure out why, but they’ve isolated out all of the other obvious variables, and the data seems to show that hyperemesis is good for the baby’s intelligence.  So…every time I get sick now, The Prince starts chanting “Puke, puke, puke, puke!  It’s good for the baby!”  My supportive hubby.

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