A Choice

There was a comment made to me yesterday that pretty much ruined my whole morning.  It came across a little more harshly than intended, but it still stung because let's be honest, we infertile's are sensitive.

I was talking to a friend about someone else we know who is going through infertility treatments and how they were strapped financially but because she coupons, they were able to survive through the tightest times.  This friend of mine (who doesn't like the person I was talking about one bit) said, "Um, I do NOT feel sorry for someone who is struggling because they are spending their money on infertility treatments.  That's a choice she's making!  Feed your family or infertility treatments?  She made that choice to spend all her money!"  After a very deep breath, I politely said, "I disagree.  It's really not a choice for some people."

I understand where she was coming from.  I understand she was saying we CHOOSE to spend our money on these treatments.  It is a choice to spend the money, but what other choice do we have?  If you want to share your life, that bond with a child, see your family grow, your parents hold their grandchild, your husband hold his baby, if you want to find that unconditional love you've heard about and longed for, you spend the money to adopt or get treatments for whatever it is that's ailing you.

It IS an ailment most of the time.  Infertility is an illness.  It's not something you chose to have "happen" to you!  It's usually indicative of a problem you need to have addressed or corrected.  A hormone problem, an immunodeficiency issue, infection, scar tissue, deformities, and on and on.  So technically, it's choosing to correct an illness or problem, or not.  Is it any different than choosing to get treatment for other serious illnesses?  People who don't know the longing, the emotional roller coaster month after month, the hope, the loss, the sadness can't understand.  They may try.  They may think they do...but they don't.  They say things like, "Enjoy your free time!" or "At least you can go out any time you want." or "Come get my kids, that'll change your mind!" or "Just relax!  You are thinking about this too much!"  and every single one of those hurts beyond words.

We've had our fun with our free time.  We've gone out any time we wanted to.  We would love to take your kids and we know it won't change our mind!  We have relaxed for years and that doesn't get you pregnant!  Trust me on this one.

Anyway, back to my story.  This friend of mine happened to realize that the person she was talking to actually fit the same scenario she was talking about and honestly, I saw a physical change in her appearance when she realized she had hurt and offended me.  I know she didn't MEAN to hurt me.  I know she had no ill-intent when she said what she said.  I still decided it was best to end the conversation.  A while later, she came back and apologized if she had hurt me with her comment.  I had already decided that I would do my best to educate her because it was just her ignorance about infertility and the situation itself.

So, I said, "It's ok.  I don't expect you to understand.  It's hard for someone who has never wanted a child so badly to imagine how it feels to think or feel that you will never have a child.  Imagine if you lost your baby right now and tried but could never get pregnant ever again?  It wouldn't be a choice for you either if you thought you could fix the problem.  There are days I would gladly go without food if it meant having a child of our own!"  Yes, she is pregnant.  Accidentally.  She's 22 years old and extremely naive.  I know these things, yet I couldn't help but try to educate her.

Her response to all of this was, "Oh....really?" and that concludes our lesson for the day.  The student taught the teacher a thing or two with those two words.  I just shook my head and again, ended the conversation as politely as possible.

My morning was shot.  I managed to get it back together by lunch time, but it got me thinking.  How many of you would go without food to pay for your treatments or your medicine?  Is this really a choice? By definition, yes.  "Choice: An act of selecting or making a decision when faced with two or more possibilities."

I was pregnant once.  I remember the joy I felt.  The little life I couldn't wait to share with my son or daughter.  I remember that love I felt for my child even though I had no idea who he or she was.  I know what it feels like to know I'm going to be a mother.  I know what it feels like to have that taken away from me.  I can't erase those feelings and I can't forget how good in my soul I felt for that brief period of time.  How could I not try to fix this problem of ours?  How could I ever choose to ignore those feelings?  I can't.  It's not a choice.  Not for me.

In one way or another, I will become a mother.  Rik will be a father.  My mom will babysit her grandchildren.  My best friend will get to love my little one.  There's no "choice" about that.

Thought Vomit Thursday! (All the cool kids are doing it)

I saved up this week and may have gone a little overboad w/ the TVT, but oh well....Hope you feel like you got your money's worth.  I mean this comes around once per week right?  Let's do it.

• I had a stinky armpit today.  Singular.  I don't even know how that happens or why, but I had to approach people from my left side all day.  I'm sure they thought I was trying to be all sorts of languid and regal, but I was really just trying to save their nose hairs and my hygienic reputation.  
• I had a thought Tuesday.  Yes, just one.  I feel like LIFE is a stop light.  Sometimes, I'm sitting still, impatiently waiting for something to change so that I can tear off again, rushing towards my destination.  Other times, I feel like I'm slowing down or speeding up to make it to the next point in our journey, hoping I don't get stuck waiting again.  And then for what seems like just a little while, for a brief moment, I'm hammer down, pedal to the metal, full speed ahead hoping it's nothing but green lights as far as the eye can see.  All the stopping, going, waiting...It's interesting to think that a stop light is set up on the exact same timer all the time, day in, day out...gotta be boring for the stop light....which brings me to my next point....
• I form relationships with inanimate objects.  For whatever reason, I think they have feelings.  I feel guilt over leaving a piece of cereal in the bag when I'm tossing it away.  I've been known to dig a bag back out of the trash and remove a single mini-wheat all because I was wracked with guilt over how unwanted it must have felt.  I can't put a product back on the shelf at the grocery store if it's damaged because how would I feel if no one wanted me just because I'm a little banged up and slightly damaged goods?
• I told a dyslexic person I didn't care if they didn't like to read aloud today and that they needed to do it anyway before I remembered she is dyslexic and has a very hard time reading out loud, especially when she's nervous.  Doh!  I feel like such a jerk!  It's bothered me ALL DAY LONG.  I hate when I do insensitive things, even when it's accidental!  
• Why would anyone ever go into a fast food restaurant without their shoes?  We went into McDonnie's yesterday and there was a guy just standing there, sipping his super sized soft drink with no shoes on.  He remembered a hat, but not his shoes?  And I didn't get the vibe he didn't have any, just that he didn't want to take the time to put them on.  It was just gross.
• Blogger keeps taking away the photos I post on my blog even though they are MY photos.  Why is this happening?  I want you guys to see the pictures, that's why I post them!
• I found an email last night that my husband and I exchanged back in 2006.  It was a couple of days before I moved out to Colorado to live with him for six or so months and I hadn't seen him for weeks at that point.  They were the sweetest emails.  It's crazy to see where we are now and how far we've come in these past five years.  I love how much we still love each other.  Young love is so cute and I'm glad I saved those emails.
• Embarrassing situation - Rik knows the receptionist at our new RE's office.  He previously coached her son's select baseball team.  That donation drop-off for our next IUI is not going to be comfortable for my super proper, very private husband.  Say a prayer he doesn't trip on his way up to the counter.  
• We went through 8 or 9 bags of candy on Halloween.  Rik had to make an extra candy run and that was with us only giving each child ONE piece!  We had a ton of trick or treaters.  SO many, in fact, that we just sat with the door open, in a chair with the bowl on our laps to accommodate the steady stream of children, teens and yes, some adults (ridiculous!).  My favorite of the night was the little ninja who literally ninja'd his way across the yard to our doorstep by ducking and covering behind mailboxes, front-rolling behind trees and deer sprinting across our lawn to finish in grande style by leaping gingerly onto the porch, landing in a fighter's stance and saying, "Trick or treat!?" very threateningly.  I loved it that he took his costume THAT seriously....it was awesome!  Oh! and the little army men who army-crawled their way up our neighbor's hill were hysterical too.
• I'm wordy. 

The "What If" Post - A Post I Never Posted

This was in my drafts from January 6th, 2010.  For whatever reason, I didn't feel "ready" yet to post it and I guess I never got back around to it.  We were only about 10 months into TTC and a week past our miscarriage.  I think deep down, I already knew we were in for a ride.  My opinion on fostering has evolved a little bit now simply because of our mental/emotional state with wanting children.  It's still something I want to do someday, but I don't know that it's right for us right now.  Anyway, here are my thoughts from almost 2 years ago.

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So, everyone we know either has a kid, is having a kid or just had a kid. We're "behind" so to speak. And I think what's funny about this is that I was never "ready" to have kids before and now that I am, I feel like my time is running out and I'm way past due and the thought of raising a baby now is exhausting. A welcome exhaustion, but still...exhausting!

How can you go from being unready to past ready in the span of a year? ha! Like 30 is suddenly so far gone that my aged womb could never carry one child, much less several. ((Not that I'm asking for several here, for the record)) Anyway, the point is that all of a sudden, we want kids and it's not like you snap your fingers and say, "Ta da! I wanna baby!" and there it is.

You've spent years and years and hundreds or even thousands of dollars preventing what you surely thought was going to happen to you if your significant other so much as looked at you the wrong way, only to find out it's pretty dang hard to get yourself knocked up! It's amazing how all these "accidents" happen to people! We couldn't have been more wrong in our thoughts that getting pregnant was the easiest thing in the world to do! (Well, let me be clear here, some of us couldn't be more wrong, others are blessed with little ones they never asked for or planned for all because they skipped their pills for a month or took some antibiotics!)

Anywho, when it comes to planning a family, there are so many things to THINK about....to weigh out, to measure I suppose you could say. I don't think you can ever be "ready" for a baby but you can quantify a certain readiness that I would be ok with, I think. That's where we are now. And the trying part, while that's not difficult at all, is somewhat like bungee jumping. Not the act itself mind you, but the whole scenario seems to play out like a very exciting and scary outdoor adventure....like bungee jumping.

It's a free-fall into the unknown and then you're pulled back to reality only to fall right back into the unknown again. It's exhilarating and then scary and then exciting and then it's over and you just hang at the end of the rope until your feet touch the ground again. Then you go up and do it all over again.  Month after month.

We've not been "trying" to get pregnant for very long by most standards (10 months or so) but when you've put off trying for so long in order to get all the fun trips and so forth out of the way, it's frustrating to sit where I am almost a year later and still not be pregnant. It's kind of like ticking off one more year we don't have to build a family with. It makes me a little angry with myself for not getting started sooner. Then again, I don't look at the time we spent enjoying our relationship together as wasted so I won't go that far. But it's still a little frustrating.

By the same token, I hear these stories where people, close friends of ours, have tried for years...sometimes six, seven even ten years and still, no baby for them. It's their only wish in life for themselves. It breaks my heart for them because I can't imagine what they feel month after month. It scares me in a way because I think, "What if that happens to us?" or "What will we do if we keep trying for another year or two and still aren't where we wanted to be?" I know it's not always about what WE want or where WE think we should be in our life, but sometimes the controlling part of my persona rears it's ugly head. What can I say? I worry.

I don't feel that I should even begin to complain because God has already blessed us so much in our life together, it would seem so ungrateful of me to sulk and pout over something I cannot understand or change. It's just one of those situations where I'm helpless and wonder how people try to have a baby for that long without going insane.

I know this is a more personal post, but it was on my mind and so I decided to write about it. I know others are probably dealing with similar situations on a much grander scale, but this is my weight to carry and if it's heavy right now, I need to talk about it. So, I am.

When my husband and I first began talking about marriage and our life together, I told him I had always wanted to foster a child. Mainly because I wanted to take a few kids out of a system that seems so corrupt. I wanted to make a difference for just a few of those kids that can't do anything for themselves but deal with the hand they are dealt. The abuse so many of the children in foster care are subjected to just eats at me all the time. We decided that we'd wait until we had our biological children first.

I wonder if that's such a good idea now. Maybe we should just help others and let what God has planned for us fall into place.

The Not-So-Hostile Take-Over - Hubby Style (again)

So, Rik's back with a brand new edition and honestly, he had it ready before the weekend last week but I had to post something from me before posting another one of his or else it would then be HIS blog and we just can't have that now can we?  So, here he is....again, rocking my socks off.

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There probably isn’t a perfect way to feel about things, but there are some things I’ve felt throughout the process my wife and I are going through. Sometimes, the “observation deck” from which I’m watching everything is miles away from my wife’s observation deck, so much so that we end up seeing things from entirely different viewpoints. Other times, we’re standing shoulder to shoulder (well, my elbow to her shoulder).

Point being is that I don’t always feel the obvious things about all this.  Details, for example. I don’t typically dig to deeply into them.  “Oh, you’re having an IUI? Cool.” What I take this to mean is that there is a non-surgical procedure where the doctor will use a long skinny squirt bottle to shoot my boys up inside.  Shouldn’t take 2 minutes, right?

But I don’t think about the psychological effects.  Personally, I have no problem with getting assistance to put my fellas in the best spot possible to do their job (yob).  That doesn’t feel like a failure to me, or doesn’t make me feel like any less of a man.  It’s just one step in the process.  The ends justify the means.  And that could be where my wife and I end up looking at things from different observation decks.  The means are definitely important to her, especially since she’s the one that must endure said means. 

Cramping, bleeding, swelling, discomfort.  Naturally, I don’t want my wife to suffer those things.  But, since I don’t dig into details very often, I don’t always know all of these byproducts and side/after effects of having an IUI done on you.  Now that I know, I do feel a little differently about putting my wife through that.  Actually, after the trauma of the first one, and seeing how utterly miserable she was BEFORE the procedure, and then seeing the aftermath, literally made me state, “We’re not doing another IUI” to her.

Not doing another IUI.

That took a minute to sink in…for her.

She thought I had changed my mind about us trying to get pregnant through the fertility clinic.  She thought I was pulling up anchor and heading off to deeper seas to sail around for a while.  She thought we may never have kids together.  And all I meant, really, was that if the IUI process was going to be this emotionally and physically traumatic, then I cannot ask her to go through that again…but we’d find another way to achieve our goal.

I guess my “feelings” on this stuff is that if we have no better options, then we just have to go through with it – whatever that may be.  The endo surgery, for example.  I actually did a little research on that, but never real put myself in the shoes of having to go through it.  No, I didn’t like the idea of a probe going in through her belly button, but I never thought that she might not ever wake up from that (as mentioned in my last post).  It was just a step in the path along our way.  Just grab the ball, put your head down, run hard, and keep running until you reach the end zone (um, football analogy there – just kidding – I know you know it was a football analogy). You ignore the hits and the cracking of pads (bet you though maxi pads there, didn’t you? Stick with football just a minute longer) and keep fighting through the pain to make it to the goal. Period (um, not THAT period).

I do feel some anger, though.  Angry that it wasn’t easy.  Angry that it still isn’t easy.  Angry at that damn nurse at the other clinic that really and truly seemed to ruin everything.  Angry at seeing my wife become someone else’s science project…and sad about that, too, really.

~Rik

One in the ovary is worth two in the...no, wait...um....

So, got my scan on yesterday at the doctor's office.  It showed me what I was already expecting.  No, not expecting like that, expecting as in I just knew it.  I've gotten so accustomed to seeing the ultrasound machine images of my girl parts that I knew exactly what she was (or wasn't) seeing.

See, in the past, when they've done our scan, we've gone through the measuring of the endometrium lining - which was just mediocre since Clomid tends to thin your lining out a little bit - and then onto the ovaries.  It's a routine all infertile couples go through and figure out and grow accustomed to seeing.  How many of you think you could do your own scan at this point?  Well, with a little help unless you're like Gumby.  Anyway, through the grainy black and white, you're able to distinguish your triple stripe, then the dark circles come into view and you can almost immediately tell what you're going to be dealing with for that cycle.  It's reassuring to see those little black blobs show up because you know that something is working properly for a change.  At least that is how I feel.  Usually.

On Clomid, my body responded well.  No hot flashes, no mood swings, nothing.  I've actually felt happier while on Clomid.  Odd huh?  Dr. S thought so.  Anyway, we've seen follies as big as 33 mm across.  We've seen them as small as about 11 mm.  We've never seen less than three follicles that were "mature" and once, I think we had about five that were good, mature, healthy possibilities.  I've always been pleased with that (other than the scary big #33).  So, there I sat (laid) yesterday, on CD11, looking at the screen, seeing my ultra thick, luscious lining (ok, so the Anastrazole did do that right) and just waiting to see if my body had liked the new medicine as much as the old medicine.  She went straight to the right ovary and the black and white grainy business never changed...just more black and white graininess.  She wiggled the DC around and finally, two little marbles appeared that were just tiny.  She didn't even measure them they were so small.   She said something about the right ovary not looking too promising and moved over to the left side.  After just a second, our one follicle popped up on the screen.  Nothing too dramatic, it measured about 16mm on CD11 so in another few days, who knows where it'll be.  We've had two follicles in the past grow about 6-8 mm overnight so we're hoping this little follie will grow a little more, but not too much.

Rik says he feels pretty good about this little guy.  He even tossed out the idea that maybe he is just such a tough and scrappy little follie that he ate the other follies and he's the last one standing.  King of the hill style.  I couldn't help but smile.  My husband knows just what to say sometimes.  Dr. S asked us to pee on a stick the next few evenings and once we come up with a positive OPK, we can either do another IUI and hope our one follicle is a good one (it only takes one) or she can give us our trigger shot and we can do the IUI then.

Here are my thoughts (as if this whole novella isn't already full of my thoughts), I don't know if we should drop the moolah on an IUI when we had such a poor showing of follicles (no offense to my one little scrapper) because technically, couldn't I do this much on my own?  How much will it tip the scale in our favor?  I have no problem ovulating.  It's getting the two key ingredients together to make an...um.....omelet maybe?  What takes two ingredients? ok, I can't think of a good food analogy here, but you get the point.  Something fantastic.

Maybe I've just answered my own question though....I love blogging.  The IUI would give those two key ingredients their best chance to get together and make something wonderful.  Since that seems to be the problem, maybe the IUI is the answer.  Especially if in the past, the endometriosis was making this process tougher and has now been eliminated.  I was just feeling like we should try on our own, call this month a loss and jump back in with both feet next month.  While we're dropping the money on this, I want to give us our best chance possible, ya know?

ergh...I don't know what to do.  Rik said he thinks if we don't do this cycle just because of the money factor, we'd regret it later and he's probably right.  It does just take one egg.  And it's not like the other months (with all their glory) have been successful.  I do find it ironic though that my left ovary is so active.  Always the bigger producer, also the one with the cyst and now 3 weeks after surgery on it, it's our only shot.  Show off.

So, what do you ladies (& Doc) think we should do?  I need some advice.  Also, Dr. S said that for next month, if we're unsuccessful this month, we'll either go back to Clomid and some type of injectable or do the Anastrazole in combination with something else.  I don't remember exactly what she said though because once she said "injectable" I pretty much heard nothing but horror film music the remainder of the visit.''   Ugh.  Solo pronto!  I guess....

In other news, Rik has already finished a new post for all you gals (& Doc) but I had to post this before I posted his so that I don't feel like such a slacker.  Also, all grammatical errors can be chalked up to the fact that THIS little lady won't stop pawing my arm and dropping her ball on my lap.  How can I resist this face?

Tess is a jealous creature.

Anastrazole hates me. That is all for now.

Guest Blogger - The Hubby Tells All (or at least some)

Alright Lady Bloggers (& Paul), my sweet hubby went out on a limb here and shared his feelings (gasp!) with all of you so that maybe you could share it with your hubby or someone who is going through IF and might need a little company.   Show him a little love.  He'll be writing more very soon because he didn't really get to write much of anything he really wanted to write about.....how well we all know that feeling!  It's what keeps us coming back.  

So, without further delay, meet my fella, Rik.  

I love this man.

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This article is geared towards guys who are going through the non-fertility experience.  My wife and I have been going through it for a while now, and she has asked me to write some thoughts from my perspective on the whole deal.  Not really sure where this will end up, by the way, but maybe something here will be useful.

First, I'd like to share a quick story.  My wife, Shannon, had to face one of her biggest fears very recently.  Namely, exploratory surgery on her girl parts (laparoscopy and hysteroscopy - Google them).  Yep, she was freaked out about it for at least 4 days prior (probably more, but she kept it bottled up pretty well if so) and we went through countless "what if" scenarios.  My job was to convince her that no, her abdomen will not explode and that yes, I will definitely still find her very attractive after it's all said and done.  But, to be honest, some of her fears gave me a little spook as well (although I kept that to myself).

So, anyway, after a few sleepless nights, we found ourselves sitting in the waiting room.  She was fully decked out in her hospital gown and kick-@ss hospital socks, kicked back in the chair and waiting to be taken back.  This was big. She was certainly terrified.  Terrified of being put to sleep. Terrified of what they might find - or, actually, what they might NOT find.  We wanted endometriosis to be in there because that would mean there was hope for us to get knocked up, and that it was the endo that was the culprit.  But still, this was big and pretty scary for her (and, ok, I was nervous as well).

In my mind, I figured she'd freak out when they came to take her back, throw some punches around, latch on to the arms of the chair and just refuse to go.  This idea couldn't have been farther from the truth.  She stood up when they came in, made some sort of joke about walking the halls with her backside exposed, smiled really big, kissed me as she walked by and said "See ya later."  That was it.  That was that.  Off she went.

Surgery was supposed to take between 30 to 90 minutes, tops.  I was prepared for this.  What I wasn't prepared for was the phone call I got from the Operating Room.  It had been a while since she'd gone back there, so I thought this was the call saying she was in the recovery room.  Nope.  This was a call to say, "Hey there this is Nurse Suchensuch from the OR...just wanted to give you a quick call...to let you know that it's taking longer than expected...due to poor visibility."  Poor visibility. Poor visibility?  So I asked the nurse, "Poor visibility?"  She said yes.  "What causes that?" "Hold on" she said, and put her hand over the phone.

I heard muffled voices and then she came back to restate, word for word, what she had already told me.  This concerned me.  I said, "Okay" and we hung up.  And now the mind starts racing.  You know that feeling you get when you know you're being lied to?  Yep.  Had that feeling.  Actually, I knew she had just lied to me, because why would she call to tell me something so meaningless?  I interpreted it to mean, "Hey, things are not at all what we planned for down here, and the doctor is still working and yes, your wife is still alive, we think, but we have some problems down here that we didn't expect and hopefully, if all goes well, neither you nor she will know the difference."  Not good. (By the way, she WAS lying to me. The reason it was taking so long was due to way more endo than the Doctor had expected, as well as some on an ovary...which makes it pretty serious. Poor visibility, my @ss).

For the next 45 minutes, I admit to you that I was scared.  What if she dies? Never considered that. What if they have to take out her ovaries? Never considered that.  What if she doesn't make it out of the OR?  I don't sit around at home on rainy days and think about these types of what-ifs, but a couple what-ifs were currently kicking my @ss in that waiting room.

Thankfully, the doctor came in a little later and first words out of her mouth were "She's ok."  I don't remember much of what she said to me from that point, but it involved photos and some pretty crazy stuff.  Truth be told, I was pretty shaken up.  Didn't expect that. Not at all.

And so, here are two points I'd like to make.  First, my wife is much more brave than I could have ever imagined.  Second, I'm not as bullet proof as I once thought.  What do these two points mean?  I don't know, probably, but I think recognizing both points are crucial to "the guy's portion" of the non-fertility process/experience/mind-bomb.

I have made progress on sharing my thoughts and feelings on things with Shannon, even though there is still room for growth.  But, recognizing and acknowledging to my wife that I am impressed how brave she has been through this whole cluster, and that she is showing strength that is truly admirable, can make a huge difference.  Think about it - think about how many different times you have said to yourself, "Man, I'm glad I'm a guy."  Women definitely got the short end of the stick, but they really, really, really, really get the short end of the stick (actually, make that the "sharp" end of the stick) in this whole non-fertility thing.  All we have to do is make sure we get as much as possible into the cup.  Damn, I'm glad I'm a guy.

To the second point (I ain't bullet proof), it probably is important to avoid the whole Macho Man Randy Savage (RIP) approach.  You can't bulldoze your way through this.  You can't put on that stone face and hit the mute button.  You need to acknowledge, to your wife/pincushion, that you aren't immune to the left field emotions that crop up during this stuff.

Combining these two points will bring you and your wife closer together in that she is getting stronger and you are getting...well...more open to being, well, less of a robot, I guess.  At any rate, it will help you both feel like a stronger team in this, and it does make it easier - on BOTH of you.  You still have to man-up and pick her up when she's freaked or worried or emotional or just pissed off at you in general.

Now that this article is ending, I had a ton of other things to say but...it is what it is.  Good luck and go kill some rabbits! (that means go get her pregnant, by the way).

- Rik