Urg!

**If you want to skip the dirty details, you can fast-forward to the bottom of the page for a concise summary of this post*

Today I took my last of the 7 provera pills.  Let me just say this:  I hate them.

Aside from cramping, excessive bleeding, and overall bitchiness, I am experiencing major nausea.  I just stopped off at Hardee's and got a milk shake in hopes that this would help the situation.  Of course, the literature also discusses hyper weight-gain as a side effect of the drug, so this is just awesome.

I'm just really annoyed.  Actually, I feel plain angry.  I'm angry that I have to take this stupid medicine.  I'm angry that the only alternative to me taking this medication is another sugery.  I'm angry that none of this ever seems to get better.

Aside from the joy of provera and its effects, my clumsy ass fell on Monday and I planted my face in the concrete.  I look like I have been beaten.  I have cuts and scrapes on my face, elbows, hands, and knees.  My top lip is busted open from where my tooth hit it.  And my neck hurts almost like I have whiplash or something. 

In a nutshell, so far, this week really sucks.

No lumps of coal please

We are back from our 10-day long siesta.  My God, I love vacation.  I think I was actually meant to be born in the lap of luxury.  There must have been a big mix-up in the reincarnation line circa January 1979.  Because of it, there is some Paris Hilton-like debutante running around living my fabulous carefree life.  And I'm living her nine-to-five existence.  Ugh.

Anyway, I have a little case of the back-from-vacation blues...  This morning when the alarm went off, I found myself saying, "Really!" and cursing the thing.  But, alas, there are bills to pay.  So, I  begrudingly got up and got to work. 

This weekend I am looking forward to celebrating my birthday and my engagement with some good friends.  Tomorrow night, Tom & I are off to Ashton & Kyle's house for a little celebration.  VIP expected:: Allison & Scott and Lori & Allen.  Just the thing to get rid of these post-vacation blues.

So, on to Project Baby.  First, I had a mini-meltdown in Florida over (of all things) ANTIBIOTICS!  Seriously, I cried for 30 minutes because Tom & my sister kept insisting that I call my doctor and get a prescription for antibiotics.  I don't know what, but something in South Florida makes my allergies go NUTS.  Everytime I go visit my sister I get a horrible allergy attack, which inevetibly turns into a sinus infection.  On Monday, I was so sick that Tom & Laura decided I needed medication and that I couldn't fight it on my own.  Well, while they were discussing who to call to the prescription, etc, all I could think was "Ohhhhh noooooo.  Not Antibiotics.  I have been taking three birth control pills a day, pumping hormones through my body at an alarming rate, so that I could stop bleeding.  I'm finally stopped and ready for the other tests and now I'm going to take Antibiotics?  Everyone knows antibiotics interfere with the birth control pill.  Taking this thing will make me start bleeding again!!!!"  I know it sounds trivial to others, but the prospect of bleeding AGAIN prior to when it has been scheduled /planned puts me in grave risk having a panic attack.  For 10 years, I dealt with bleeding off schedule, on schedule, throw out the schedule it's useless anyway, and finally bleeding for the rest of enternity.  So, the issue is very important to me.

Does anyone else going through this do these types of things?  Freak out over the least little thing and have people (who don't have fertility issues) look at you like you are crazy?  Well, that's what it was like.  Laura & Tom were like, "It's just an antibiotic.  Listen to you, you need it."  And I'm screaming crying saying, "I DON'T WANT TO TAKE THE DAMN THING.  IT WILL MAKE ME BLEED.  IT WILL THROW US OFF OUR PLAN.  I'MMMMM NOOOT TAKING IT!  I ran to Laura's guest bedroom and draped myself over the bed (Scarlett O'Hara style) and threw my head into the pillow to cry.  And I laid there and cried.  Real tears.  Until Tom came in.  He is so good with me.  He is so good at bringing me back to reality using words that speak to me.  He logically explains that they just wanted me well, that the nature of my sickness is going to require medication to get me well, and that none of the fertility treatments will be worth anything if I'm too sick.  So, altough Project Baby is Number One Priority, sometimes other projects come up which MUST be taken care of to protect Project Baby.  In Short - I have to get myself well to have any chance of conceiving.  I have to be healthy.  As usual, he brought me out of my own misery using logical arguments big-picture talk.  He knows me so well.  I got off that bed, apologized to my sister & Tom, and called the doctor.  I started antibiotics that night.

In addition to the antibiotics, I began my 7 day regiment on MedroxyProgesteronne, Generic for Provera today.  In women who are not pregnant and not going through menopause, this medication is used to treat abnormal bleeding from the uterus and to restore normal menstrual periods in women who have stopped having them for several months (amenorrhea).  I am to take these along with my birthcontrol pill for seven days.  After that I am to stop taking either.  At this time, I should begin to bleed.  Heavily.  Really Heavily.  Once that bleeding starts to wane I will begin the birthcontrol again & we will do the same thing next month.   I'm totally excited about this hemmoraging thing that will be happening soon.  (sarcassm)

Aside from these issues, we have to figure out how to pay for the treatments.  My crappy insurance doesn't pay.  It will be around $1500 per insemination.  That is alot.  More than our house payment. So, let's hope Sainty Claus has a barren niece and decides to pay for the insemination this year. I've been good!  Well, mostly good...

Just Checking in...

Hello all.  I just wanted to check in with some great news...  We are engaged!

We are still on vacation, staying in Miami Beach with my sister Laura and her husband Ben.  But, to my delight, Tom popped the question in the beautiful blue waters of Georgetown, Grand Cayman!  We are so excited!  I feel so blessed to have found such a supportive and loving partner in him.  No matter what happens in our fertility quest, I hope to always remember how truly lucky I really am.

So, we have a couple more days of relaxation and then back to the grind.  In addition to the 9 to 5, we are also back to the work of getting my reproductive organs in  order.  Last post I updated as to the general plan for Project Baby.  I left out some of the groundwork that must be laid prior to beginning the fertility injections.  Mostly because, well, it sucks.

My first assignment is to take oral medication that will make me bleed heavily.  Yes, I know, seems like we are going backward.  But actually, it makes sense.  Because I don't ovulate naturally, the walls of my uterus are extremely thick.  This makes proper implantation of the egg next to impossible.  In early 2009, I had to have a D&C and hystocopy to thin the walls.  However, Dr. X wants to avoid putting me through another surgery.  The risk of scarring from a D&C is high, and can exaggerate my fertility problems.  So, we are attempting to thin out my walls with oral medication, and hope we can avoid another surgery.  The doctor believes I will have to do at least two rounds of this medication to get my uterine walls sufficiently thinned out for insemination.  I am SO not looking forward to it.  However, I plan to begin the first 7 day regimen this weekend.

We will be back home on Wednesday night and I will be picking back up where I left off.  Surely much more to come!!!

go BIG or go HOME

Tom and I had our second consultation with our fertility specialist today.  We went in for a vaginal ultrasound so Dr. X could take an upclose and personal look at my uterus.  Afterwards, we sat down and had a chat about the most likely effective corse of treatment.

Good news:  My uterus looks "surprisingly better" than he expected.  My ovaries looked fine, and had several cysts in them.  Dr. X says cysts in the ovaries are actually eggs that have never been released.  So good news #1 - I do make eggs.  And plenty of them.  The trick is getting the little suckers to come out and play.  Must be damn comfy in there. 

Also good:  Tom's semen analysis came back and the swimmers are normal.  He has all the swimmers you want to see.  The "A" swimmers that are like olympic athletes and head straight on the goal.  The "B" swimmers that are more your high school swim team type.  Then there's those Cs and Ds.  The "C" swimmers are more akin to a water ballet team.  They meander around haphazardly, but they will usually get there at some point.  Then there are the "D"'s.  Tom jokingly calls these his "Democrat" swimmers.  Apparently, these few just prefer to sit still, wagging their tails, and have no interest in making it to the goal line.  It's very normal to have all kinds, and Tom has a good percentage of A & B swimmers, with only a few of those ballerinas and democrats hanging around  :)

Now for the bad news:  My illness is too severe to treat with oral hormones.  Clomid and the other ovulation inducing oral medications simply won't be enough to trigger my ovulation.  Dr. X says the problem is too sever and has been around for too long.  It's time to bring the big guns out.  Go big, or go home I always say.

It seems our best chance at ovulating will be through injected hormones.  Now, I know my mother is a nurse.  And I shouldn't be such a damn baby about this stuff.  But seriously, I HATE needles.  I faint almost everytime they take blood.  So, needless to say, I'm a little apprehensive.

The plan, when we are ready to give it a go, will require that I be injected daily with fertility medication, monitored closely by Dr. X and his staff for actual ovulation.  Then, when the time is right, they will actually collect Tom's sperm and artificially inseminate it into me.   Sexy, right?

I am happy that we finally have found a doctor who is giving us answers.  A doctor who seems to care and understand what we are going through.  And I'm also happy the he has given us a plan of action that will hopefully allow us to bring a baby into the world.

But, I'm disappointed that the severity of my condition rendered the less invasive and less difficult treatments useless.  I just recently got comfortable enough to wrap my head around taking oral fertility medications.  Now, I have to jump all the way to injections and insemination.  Not to mention that if this doesn't work, the only other option left is InVitro, and I really don't know how I feel about that.

I know this is going to sound trivial.  But I'm sad that we have to miss out on the ''fun' part of making a baby.   The feeling and hope you get everytime you, well, you know.  It would have wonderful to look back on a particular incident and know we were actually creating a wonderful little life.  I'm not sure I'll have the same emotional attachment to paying turkey to the baster in Dr. X's office  :( 

Stupid, trivial concerns big picture wise.  And if in the end, we get to hold one, two, or (God forbid) three precious babies - who really cares?  (Did I forget to mention that the injection carry a significantly higher rate of multiple gestation)

***If anyone is reading this (who knows it may be just me), I would be really interested to hear your personal experiences with injectible hormones & artificial insemination. 

Virgo the Virgin...

Ok, well, I AM a Virgo.

This year, on the anniversary of my birth, my goal is to be "born again."  And no, not a "born again virgin" (what the hell is that anyway?).  But "born again" in a sense that I am going to try really really hard to curb some of my more Virgo-like habits.

Virgo is the only zodiacal sign represented by a female.  This is cool, but a little bit ironic considering the circumstnace in which I now find myself - basically infertile.  That aside, Virgos are known to possess several wonderful personality traits (hum hum), as well as some not-so-wonderful habits.  One of these is that we are widely known to be extremely picky, detail-oriented, and perfectionists in general.  We are said to demand perfection from ourselves and others, a trait which can lead to endless self-doubt and self-criticism.  This Virgo trait is one that I have in droves.

Being a perfectionist, if kept in check, is not a completely negative personality trait.  I owe much of the success I have acheived in my career to my unrelenting quest to be the best.  However, I have also allowed my perfectionist tendencies to negatively effect my decisions in the past.  One of the main areas in which I have allowed my overly self-critical ways to hold me back is in the reproductive department.

As you know (because obviously you are reading my blog), I recently "came out" as a 30-something woman struggling to deal with issues of infertility.  Despite my recent decision to publicly declare this personal information, I lived for years and years with it my dirty little secret.  I have known that I was "less than perfect" in the reproductive department since I was 21 years old.  For many years, I refused to even admit it to myself.  I couldn't come to terms with this one question:  How in the world could I fail at this? 

To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, the following are typical of my overly self-critical thoughts on the fertility matter: 

"Isn't this what I am supposed to do as a woman?  Isn't this one of the fundamental duties of my gender ~ an honor bestowed on just us.  Men can't have babies, women can.  Everybody knows that.  So why in the hell can't I?  There's no one more "woman" than me.  When you look up "woman" in the dictionary, my picture should be there.  So, how in the hell could I of all people fail at this?  Me, who has never met a challenge I didn't like.  Me, who decided as a four year old that I would be an attorney one day, and damnit if I didn't do it.  Me, who believes that with hard work, determination, and sweat, anything is possible.  So, it just can't be true.  I just can't be infertile.  And, I'll be damned if I'm going to see some hack fertility specialist who probably wants to baste me just like a Thanksgiving turkey.  I can do this all on my own.  I don't need or want anyone's help.  And if that stupid b*^ch I saw at the grocery today with more kids than teeth can do it, I'll be damned if I can't." 

Harsh, yes.  Mean, yes.  But true.  These are the kind of screwed-up thoughts that run through my head sometimes.  And it's these thoughts that kept me from addressing this issue for so many years.  Not only would I not go see a specialist, I went four or five consecutive years without even seeing my OBGYN.  Ridiculous and stupid, I know.  What can I say, I was in denial.  I decided that if I didn't think about it, if I didn't hear about it, that the problem didn't exist.  And I could pretend to be "perfect."  What a waste of time.  What a waste of years.

So, on the the anniversary of my 31st year of living, I plan to be theorectically re-born into a less critical Virgo.  And I can't think of a better way to do that than spend time with the people who love me unconditionally. 

Therefore, Tom and I spent Labor Day weekend at my Uncle's lake house with my Mom, Dave, Uncle Bill, Aunt Terry, Cari, Katie, JJ, and Brittney.  Coincedentally, we were also celebrating the birthday of another phenomenal Virgo, my beloved Momma.  We had a great time relaxing, laying in the sun, boating, watching movies, and eating an endless amount of not-so-good for you goodies.  Next up? Tom & I are flying off to Miami on Saturday to spend some quality time with my wonderful sister Laurina and her super-cool husband Ben.  We are also taking the opportunity for some couple R&R time and going on a 7 night Western Carribean Cruise.  We will get back to South Beach just in time for me to blow out birthday candles \with my beautiful sister.

Aside from the obvious relaxation that comes with vacation, I also want to use this time to reset.  Reset my expectations for myself and others.  I am excited to spend this month with those who I truly love, and those who truly love me.  No matter my age, dress size, or mood ~ they are alaways there.  These people, my family (by blood and by choice), constantly inspire me by their love and support to lighten the heavy load of expectations and blame I place upon myself.  I can't imagine a more loving and useful birthday present.