Just when you think you've got it all figured out . . .

Today I had an appointment with Dee. Following the news on Monday, Grey thought it would be worth mentioning to her what we learned about the agency we had chosen to see if she had any suggestions. Honestly, we both expected her to give me the this-is-the-way-things-go speech. So you can imagine my surprise (and delight) when she looked at me cross-eyed.

Dee: "16 months? Really?"

Me: "Yep"

Dee: "Why so long?"

Me: "No clue, other than a number of couples that had been on the wait-list for so long finally were picked. Oh, and they told us to hold off on the homestudy until after we move."

Dee: "Meaning hold off for a year. So, instead, the process would take you ~ 2 yrs"

Me (fighting back tears): "Yes."

Cue eye-roll from Dee.

Before I continue, I need to take a moment to again point out how amazing it's been to have a therapist who specializes in infertility/loss and adoption. Dee has helped me through both miscarriages and a failed FET. I shudder to think about where I would be mentally and emotionally without her help. In short, this woman is awesome. I really didn't think she could get much better.

And then I saw what came next.

Following recovering from her eye-roll, Dee launched into a lecture about "homestudy updates" and how this agency's reasoning was probably wrong. During this time, she fished out her laptop and opened up her contact list. After doing some typing, she looked at me.

Dee: "Cristy, have you and Grey thought about private adoption?"

Me (gulping): "Yes. But all the stories I've heard have been scary. The scams, the possibility for getting yourself into legal trouble quickly. The fail rates. We figured it would be better to go through an agency. Why?"

Dee: "Because I think you two are great candidates for it. It's faster, it's a bit more hands and, with the right people, it can be a very positive experience. Just as it was for my husband and me."

Dee then shared her adoption story with me. I knew she had adopted and is a huge advocate for the process. But I didn't know the details. When she finished, she pulled out her notepad and began to write. Within 2 minutes, I was staring at two names, A and P, and contact information.

Dee: "I've known A and P for 20 yrs. They are highly skilled and I think they've started an agency. Contact them. I think you and Grey would really enjoy working with them."

I spent the rest of our session alternating between laughter and tears.


Following my session, I texted Grey. Within 5 texts, he called me, surprised about the information. At one point, he asked if I was certain about my information. When I told him, "it's coming from Dee," he stopped and started to laugh.


This afternoon, both Grey and I got into contact with A and P (I called A and he called P). A and I chatted for 20 minutes and she asked if we would be willing to meet her in August. Grey talked with P and, in addition to sending him some resources, told him that she'd be more than happy to do our homestudy. 


So, as of today, we are no longer on hold. At the end of my session, I promised Dee that we wouldn't push the process and that we would also focus on healing. But now I feel like there's a purpose. 


Aw, life. How I love you. Let it never be said that it's been boring.

Changed

First off, thank you for the responses on the last post. I've had a chance to calm down and reflect on this issue. The decision was to not go to the meeting last night (I'm voting with my feet) and instead try to get into contact with RESOLVE about my concerns. Thing is, I'm having trouble doing that! Tried finding an email address or a contact for the WA chapter with no luck. I did call the main office today and am hoping for a response, but I think I'm missing something. If someone has a suggestion, please let me know. 

A couple of nights ago, I was looking back on photos taken before Grey and I jumped on the TTC bandwagon. In a lot of ways, life was simpler: we both had an idea of what we wanted out of life and the paths to obtaining those goals were generally clear. We had our rough moments (most people do), but my motto was "with a little hard work" whenever attacking a task that seemed difficult.

The past 2.5 yrs. have changed all of that. Looking back, I now realize how naive I was with this "sunshine and roses" line of thinking. Though it is true that a happy-ending to this story is entirely possible, what's also undeniable how changed both of us already are and will forever be because of this journey.

On some ends, this change has been for the better. Grey and I were always close, but living with infertility has strengthened our marriage in ways I didn't know possible. He has journeyed to the pits of hell with me, standing beside me during moments where it would have been easier to simply walk away. Before this experience, I was simply happy to be married to someone I loved. Now there isn't a morning I don't wake up and thank the universe to bringing this man into my life. Many other things have changed too, like learning to put the needs of myself and Grey first, learning to be more patient, etc. All these life lessons that would not have come if we had not been on this path.

But not everything has been for the better. Since losing this second pregnancy, I've become hardened. The grief has caused me to be less sympathetic to the problems of others. Some of this is legit, as it amazes me how much unnecessary drama people allow into their lives. But some of it makes me wonder if the scar tissue has turned into a thicken hide, making it very hard to connect with others.

I realize what I'm talking about isn't a new concept. There are many posts from so many amazing women in this community that cover this from many different angles. They do a better job of dissecting this than I can hope for. But what I will add is how foreign it feels to be so detached from the world. Almost like something has been broken inside of me.

As women, we learn from an early age that our role is to be "the caregiver." We spend much of our lives learning to put ourselves second for our families and loved ones, making sacrifices to help promote other's well-being. My childhood conditioning is very much to that extreme, as I was taught that my problems had to wait because "so and so" had more pressing issues that needed to be dealt with. The rational is that we are supposed to be "strong." With any hurt or disappointment, the first words of encouragement are how strong and beautiful we are. These words are meant to encourage perseverance and pushing through. Helping us find the will to reload our burdens and move forward.

Since this miscarriage, I don't feel "strong" anymore. Frankly, I feel like I've crumbled. My trust in my body has been greatly shaken and I worry at times about my sanity. Hence the hardened feeling. Because I am like that animal who, having survived being beaten time and again, is now surrounded by humans who don't understand how frighten I am. And yes, I've already snapped at many hands.

This post has no point other than the fact that I'm trying. I'm trying daily to move forward and on. Because the only other choice is to stay in this current state and it's not a place I want to be. But with the trying comes the realization that I am forever changed and what that means. How deep and ugly these scars truly are.

We have our follow up appointment with Dr. Optimism on Friday. And both Grey and I have ideas for a plan. The end of this 2 week wait is in sight. 

How villans are created

Many years ago, Grey brought home a copy of Joseph Campbell's "The Hero with a Thousand Faces." This book is considered a seminal work, which explores the theory that important myths from around the world which have survived for thousands of years all share a fundamental structure, focused around the journey of an archetypal hero. 

A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.

Though I've never read this work (shame on me, I know), Grey and I had multiple discussions based on the different passages, particularly those focusing on the hero's time in the supernatural world, facing trials and seeking to obtain the end goal or the boon.

The key to the hero, though, is that somehow, he or she is victorious in the end. Yes, there may be loss along the way. Great loss, but the hero always obtains the boon at the end of the story, be it treasure, rescuing the maiden in distress, or peace and freedom.

But what happens when the hero fails? Instead of emerging victorious, the hero is beaten?

I've been thinking about this a lot as we've progressed on this journey. Especially in light of this FET cycle. After 2+ yrs of actively trying for a baby, 3 failed IUIs and an IVF cycle that ended in miscarriage, we're still without a child in our arms. And though our journey has not been as long as others, it's been very hard to continue fighting after each of these failed trials.

Equally hard has been trying to be part of life when you feel like an outsider. Unlike most women, pregnancy is not a given for me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to become pregnant again and, even if I'm that lucky, if I'll be able to carry that child to term. Because of this, I've found I can no longer react to other people's news with joy and excitement. It's never been about me not being happy for them; but to me pregnancy is no longer a guarantee and I'm no longer naive.

So, for many in life, I'm now viewed as the villan. I'm the villan when someone surprises me with news that they are expecting again and I excuse myself after mumbling a quiet congratulations. I'm the villan when someone goes on and on complaining about how difficult it is to raise a child after starting the conversation with "you don't know how lucky you are."

What's change recently is my recognition for how villans are created. That most people rarely start out life this way but instead are created over time due to years of abuse and neglect. The funny thing about all of this is how few people are willing to acknowledge the process of this creation, instead throwing blame at the direction of the villan for making choices to take the path they are on. Rarely do we step back and acknowledge that though there are choices, sometimes those choices were made as a form of protection, of self-preservation.

That maybe the only really difference between heros and villans is success.

On Wednesday, Grey and I begin this hard journey again. The past few weeks of being on medication has really been more like a dream state, with us being pretty unaffected outside of the drug-induced mood-swings. The thing is, I'm preparing myself for another failure, for the pain that will come in the aftermath. Despite everyone telling me that this can work, I'm finding it difficult to believe that it will. Because after 2+yrs, what will be different this time? And I hate myself for feeling this way, because it's really not about me on Wednesday. It's about our snowbabies. And I already feeling like I'm failing them.

Three more days of being in limbo. Desperately searching for hope.

Greenlight

Short post today regarding the FET cycle. I'll post more soon.

Punchline: We've been given the green light. Lining is currently at 9.1 cm, no cysts (yay!!!) and ovaries are nice and quiet. Looloo did her job.

Here's the protocol for this next week:

2 more days on Estrace 3x a day; 0.25mg Lupron

Friday: Scale back Estrace to 2x a day. Start Crinone 1x a day, Misoprestol 1x a day (lunchtime), and Doxycycline 2x a day. To prevent being backed up from the Doxy, I will also up water (3L a day) and suppliment with fiber.

Next Wednesday (March 14th): Appointment at 11:30 am. Diazapan and 2L water at 10 am.

Anyway, lots to do in the next week. But at least today we have hope.

Flashbacks

A belated welcome to all those visiting from ICLW!  A bit of background on me: Grey and I've been TTCing for a little over 2 years, with a formal diagnosis of "Unexplained Infertility" in January 2011. This past December, we took the leap and underwent IVF. The cycle was successful (8 beautiful embryos and a positive pregnancy test). Unfortunately, 4 days after the first beta, we learned that something was wrong. This resulting in a week on the beta roller coaster followed by a diagnosis with a blighted ovum. I had a D&C on January 11th. I've spent the past month healing, reflecting and preparing myself for a FET in March. 


This past week has been a rough one. News of Mo's loss hit me harder than I ever imagined. This was followed with news that a friend on an online forum suffered a chemical pregnancy, which probably could have been prevented if her RE had checked her day 21 progesterone levels, realized that it was low, and prescribed her supplemental progesterone. I've been filled with anger and sorrow over both of these losses because both of these women have been through so much and deserve to be holding their babies, not trying to remember them.

But I'm also scared. Scared shitless. This news has triggered memories of that awful day in January. The day when Grey and I learned that we would lose our pregnancy. That the brief moments of happiness and peace we had experienced were over. All that was to follow was pain. I never want to live through that again. And I'm worried that I'm setting myself up for the same thing.

Today I am officially CD1. After threatening for a few days, my period finally arrived. With that came the instructions to reduce the Lupron and start Estrace. I've heard time and time again how much easier it is to go through a FET than IVF, and so far on the physical end they've been right. But this week has reminded me that though physically I can take it, emotionally I'm still weak.

Miscarriage and infant loss is one of the biggest taboos in our society (next to infertility). All too often, people respond with suggestions like "it's for the best," "it wasn't meant to be" or (my personal favorite) "it's all in God's hands." In a lot of cases, parents are lucky to even get these responses, as people become incredibly uncomfortable about the subject and just assume that not saying anything is for the best. But the worst of all of this is that as time goes on, people assume you'll have 'gotten over it.' That because there was never a baby for them to see, it never existed. That this child was just an idea.

The problem is, like any trauma, the wounds may heal, but scars will remain. Sometimes the scars are tiny, only noticeable to those who look for them. But other times those scars are not so tiny. In fact, they are damn ugly. We try to hide conceal them, covering them with veneer to make them appear less ugly, but we know what they are.

For the past few weeks, I've been looking at the scars I've accumulated during this journey, particularly the most recent one. I've convinced myself that I'm okay with them, as they are part of me and I'm not ashamed of what I've done during this time. But this week reminded me that I'm not okay. I'm not okay with having to undergo fertility treatments, I'm not okay with having to hide my tears following a pregnancy announcement, I'm not okay with people I know and love suffering miscarriages and loving their children.

I'm not okay with the loss of my one and only pregnancy.

And yet, starting today, though I'm scared out of my mind that in a month all of that sorrow will repeat itself, I will move forward. With my husband by my side, we will try again. I will pop the pills, stick myself with needles and forgo caffeine. I will steal myself, meditate to relief my nerves and try to remember that there's a chance that all of this works out.

All because I know that if I don't, I will forever be stuck in this limbo of wondering if I had tried, would it have worked. And that limbo scares me more.

Wish me luck.

Back in the stirrups again

First off, happy Valentine's Day everyone. If you're like me, you probably recognize this overly-commercialized holiday as a way to capitalize on love and romance. But, it's also become a day for me to stop and reflect on where I've come during this journey. How much I've survived because of those around me through their love and support. So sending all my readers much love. That and chuckling at this poor schmuck who clearly forgot to purchase his significant other some roses (grocery store ones will have to do).

Secondly, thank you all for the comments on my last post. I'm doing better and I appreciate your suggestions. I guess one of the things I'm learning from all of this is how to address things that were broken a long time ago. Never easy, and I don't necessarily know the right path for dealing with all of this, but daily I'm learning how to navigate my way through. Unfortunately, with my family, that means no contact (long story as to why doing otherwise is not good with my family). But that's just for now. Time will tell.

Anyway, on to more important business. Grey and I went in today for my second mock transfer and the saline sonogram. Because I've had so much difficulty in the past filling my bladder, I made sure to start chugging water at 7 am. I went a bit overboard, but more on that in a minute.

The clinic I see has 3 REs who oversee all the fertility treatments. Though Dr. Optimism is my primary RE (love her), I also can be seen by Dr. Sage (the medical director for the clinic; adore him) and Dr. Practical (younger RE). In the past, I didn't really care for Dr. Practical, but since going through IVF, where she was the one in charge of monitoring my stimulation, and then the D&C, where she immediately returned my phone call when I was complaining about severe cramping, I've become more fond of her. Today though, I've decided I really do like her. And it all came down to how she handled the entire appointment.

First order of business was the mock transfer. Right after they confirmed I wasn't pregnant (routine for any SIS), they proceeded to check my bladder. To my surprise, it was full. Apparently I don't have much of a tolerance for a full bladder, as I get the urge to pee before it's truly full. Not today, which means I know now EXACTLY how uncomfortable I need to be. Anyway, the mock transfer went smoothly.

Next up was the saline sonogram. I've never had one of these, but I do remember the HSG and how painful it was. Grey was immediately by my side, holding my hand. To both of our surprises, this was painless and easy too.  Dr. Practical applied a topical anesthesia to my cervix and then made a point of slowly inflating the balloon on the catheter. Hence, no cramping. The good news is that everything looks like it's healed well and no scarring was detected!!! So we're good on that front (hooray!!!). She also took measurements of my uterine lining (very thin) and looked at my ovaries (both back to normal size with zero activity).

After I was allowed to dress and visit the bathroom for the third time, Dr. Practical brought in the FET consent forms to sign. We talked once again about the procedure and the risks of twinning. Thankfully, she didn't push for the eSET. I think due to the fact of how this last cycle turned out.  As we wrapped up, she asked if we had any questions. Though I didn't, Grey did.

The first one was whether we were moving the FET date.  Dr. Practical took a moment to count the days, reconfirmed my last day of bleeding and then ordered some blood-work. Based on today's results, we'll have a better idea if we need to push things back or not, but she's keen on trying to keep those dates.

The second question had to do with the embryos. Grey had questions about how they were frozen (number per straw, whether it was a new method called "glass freezing," etc) and instead of brushing him off, she took the time to answer each point as thoroughly as possible.

I know how busy this practice is on a day to day basis, whether it be IVF, IUIs, counseling patients, training medical students and residents, etc. So the fact that Dr. Practical took the time to work with us, even though this was not a part of the appointment, won me over. She will still be Dr. Practical to me, as she has a straightforward way of answering questions, but the animosity is gone.

I'm hoping to hear back from the clinic tomorrow morning with news on the blood work. I've never had a cycle go so long and I'm wondering if the end is somewhere in sight.  We'll see.  In the meantime, all I can do is wait and be thankful for the medical team we have working with us.

UPDATE: Heard from the clinic and progesterone is at 17.4! Highest level on record for me. Start Lupron tomorrow and instructed to call clinic on CD1 to start Estrace. So we're officially on for the week of March 12.