Friday, December 11, 2009
Naughty and nice
Naughty
Aetna. My plan has an "infertility program" that is mandatory if you're undergoing IF treatments. This means I need to call them every month when my period starts, tell them what I'm doing that month in terms of treatments, and then they send me a letter in the mail with what tests or procedures I'm approved to do that month. So they know full well I'm dealing with infertility. Yesterday, I received a nice little flyer in the mail from them, touting the benefits of their "Beginning Right Maternity Program." They included enrollment information, so that I can make the most of their maternity benefits. Thanks a bunch Aetna, way to kick a girl when she's down.
Mother Nature. It's in the teens here. Biting, frigid, teeth-chattering cold. Not a fan.
The mall. I have to head there this weekend to do most of my christmas shopping.
The chick in my training class this week. After a cutesy announcement in the middle of the introductions that she was 4 months pregnant with her first (and she looked all of 97 pounds soaking wet), I overheard her tell someone that she had to get pregnant quickly again after this one comes, because she really wants her kids close together in age. Grrrrr.
Nice
Sleep. I had the best nap ever today. I love having a day off a week, just me and the kiddo.
My husband. He rocks, seriously.
Toddler logic. My kiddo funny of the day was centered around my son not wanting to sit on the potty. I found him peeing in the tub (not more than a minute after he got down from the potty and got into the bath). When I asked him why he didn't go in the potty, I added in something like, "don't you want to be a big boy?" He responded, in all seriousness, "I don't have to go potty to be a big boy. I'm already a big boy." I laughed and then he continued, "Anyway, my bedroom is too messy, I can't go pee in the potty." Mmmmkay, thanks for the explanation little man.
Christmas music. Scratch that - holiday music. I love the stuff. I'm so corny I even play it in other seasons. Speaking of which, where is the Adam Sandler Hanukkah song? I haven't heard it once yet. But Target was playing the Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel song this morning, and my son was singing along.
Being home. I'm a big, big fan of this place.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
New perspectives
I'm traveling for work this week, and I'm staying in a really trendy (sort of oddball, in my opinion) hotel. The bed is quite comfortable, but I'm prone to allergies, and the entire bed is wrapped in down: the 23 pillows (ok, so I exaggerate just a bit, but trust me there are plenty), the comforter, the featherbed. I thought I was sleeping in a goose's embrace last night, minus the honking. Then there are concrete walls (yes, inside my hotel room), a bathroom with a wall that doesn't quite go to the ceiling, and in the lobby there are chairs that look like a broken egg. Remember the chairs in Men in Black? Except in this hotel, the egg chairs hang from the ceiling.
But here's what's good about the place. This is the showerhead:
Heavenly. Like standing in a warm rainshower.
Except for the full length, full width mirror in the shower stall. Yes, a mirror in the shower. I stepped in and thought, ok, I'll just face away from that thing. At some point, of course, I had to turn around. Not terrible, I thought. Could be worse. Honestly, I look way less (terrible, gross, just plain fat) - scary - than I expected I would.
Within a few minutes, I was wishing my husband were with me. Now that would be a fun use of that shower and its mirror. Instead, I got to see that my butt cheeks turn bright red in a hot shower.
All in all, I'm looking forward to coming home tonight.
But here's what's good about the place. This is the showerhead:
Heavenly. Like standing in a warm rainshower.
Except for the full length, full width mirror in the shower stall. Yes, a mirror in the shower. I stepped in and thought, ok, I'll just face away from that thing. At some point, of course, I had to turn around. Not terrible, I thought. Could be worse. Honestly, I look way less (terrible, gross, just plain fat) - scary - than I expected I would.
Within a few minutes, I was wishing my husband were with me. Now that would be a fun use of that shower and its mirror. Instead, I got to see that my butt cheeks turn bright red in a hot shower.
All in all, I'm looking forward to coming home tonight.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
A verbose state of speechlessness
I really am speechless. I have no idea what to think, or say, let alone what to do, so if you wish to bear with me and read my swirling thoughts, here they are.
My husband and I have not really talked about this - not since Wednesday. The closest we've come is that we'll each make tentative little statements about being a one-child family. Like this morning, our kiddo was being his normal silly adorable self, and I said, "you know, if we are only going to have one, then he's really the right one to have." He's made one or two similar comments recently as well, about positive aspects of this "choice" we're facing. It's almost like we're dipping a toe in, testing the water to see how it feels. Will we jump in?
I have truly never been so conflicted in my life. One moment (or day) I am relieved to be done with treatments - and I fantasize about my life with no more treatments - and the relief I feel is indescribable. I think about simple things, like signing up for a yoga class that's 10 weeks long, like losing the 15 extra pounds I've put on, like not having to worry about fitting doctor's appointments into my work schedule and upcoming trips. The problem with quitting treatments is of course that the net result is that I do not end up pregnant.
Then the next minute or hour I want another child so much I can taste the feeling. I have spent these moments - sometimes full days of this - daydreaming about adoption, donor eggs, even pursuing a more aggressive IVF cycle. (If there even is such an option, which I doubt.) We've talked about foster care, mostly because my sister has had a great experience - she adopted her two children from foster care, after deciding to stop pursuing IF treatments after the Clomid stage. It's worked out well for her in the end, but the road of course was full of heartbreak when a couple other children were taken from them after their respective parents decided to ... well, to parent. That's the part that stops me with fostering. And overall, the problem with all of the family-building paths that I know about, is that they're mostly expensive, and none of them have a 100% success rate.
Anyway - I can't get into all my options now - partly because I honestly don't know what they all are, and partly because it's going too far down a road that I'm not sure about right now. How do I express how I feel about pursuing a donor egg cycle when I don't even know how I feel about pursuing *any* further road to another child?
It's kind of like going to a diner. I live in NJ, and diners abound. I always take three times as long to figure out what I want to eat at a diner, not necessarily because there are more choices, but because there are more *kinds* of choices. If it's 12:00 noon, and I walk into a diner, my first choice is: breakfast or lunch. How can I compare a chicken caesar salad with french toast with strawberries? It's impossible until you decide if you want lunch or breakfast.
And wouldn't the decision be 100x more difficult if you were starving, and if the choices were the following:
1) A 100% chance of getting a shrimp caesar salad (and you have a shellfish allergy), $9.00
2) A 10% chance of getting strawberry-topped belgian waffles, and a 90% chance of getting nothing, $100
3) A 5% chance of getting a mystery plate, 95% chance of nothing, $250.
Oh and by the way, everyone else at the restaurant is ordering what they want, for the usual price, and getting what they want. Except the woman at the booth behind you, she complains nonstop that she's pregnant with a girl and she reeeaaaallly wants a boy. You're allowed to drop your iced tea on her, by the way.
Going too far down that analogy road?
Ok, now you see how conflicted I am. My main problem is that I'm comparing apples to oranges. (Or strawberry-topped belgian waffles with a chicken caesar salad.) I'm trying to decide between stopping treatments (which is a foolproof way to *not* have another child), and pursuing treatments or some other road (which is not a surefire to end up with a child, but rather just an opportunity for one. And an expensive opportunity at that.)
How does one even make that decision?
My husband and I have not really talked about this - not since Wednesday. The closest we've come is that we'll each make tentative little statements about being a one-child family. Like this morning, our kiddo was being his normal silly adorable self, and I said, "you know, if we are only going to have one, then he's really the right one to have." He's made one or two similar comments recently as well, about positive aspects of this "choice" we're facing. It's almost like we're dipping a toe in, testing the water to see how it feels. Will we jump in?
I have truly never been so conflicted in my life. One moment (or day) I am relieved to be done with treatments - and I fantasize about my life with no more treatments - and the relief I feel is indescribable. I think about simple things, like signing up for a yoga class that's 10 weeks long, like losing the 15 extra pounds I've put on, like not having to worry about fitting doctor's appointments into my work schedule and upcoming trips. The problem with quitting treatments is of course that the net result is that I do not end up pregnant.
Then the next minute or hour I want another child so much I can taste the feeling. I have spent these moments - sometimes full days of this - daydreaming about adoption, donor eggs, even pursuing a more aggressive IVF cycle. (If there even is such an option, which I doubt.) We've talked about foster care, mostly because my sister has had a great experience - she adopted her two children from foster care, after deciding to stop pursuing IF treatments after the Clomid stage. It's worked out well for her in the end, but the road of course was full of heartbreak when a couple other children were taken from them after their respective parents decided to ... well, to parent. That's the part that stops me with fostering. And overall, the problem with all of the family-building paths that I know about, is that they're mostly expensive, and none of them have a 100% success rate.
Anyway - I can't get into all my options now - partly because I honestly don't know what they all are, and partly because it's going too far down a road that I'm not sure about right now. How do I express how I feel about pursuing a donor egg cycle when I don't even know how I feel about pursuing *any* further road to another child?
It's kind of like going to a diner. I live in NJ, and diners abound. I always take three times as long to figure out what I want to eat at a diner, not necessarily because there are more choices, but because there are more *kinds* of choices. If it's 12:00 noon, and I walk into a diner, my first choice is: breakfast or lunch. How can I compare a chicken caesar salad with french toast with strawberries? It's impossible until you decide if you want lunch or breakfast.
And wouldn't the decision be 100x more difficult if you were starving, and if the choices were the following:
1) A 100% chance of getting a shrimp caesar salad (and you have a shellfish allergy), $9.00
2) A 10% chance of getting strawberry-topped belgian waffles, and a 90% chance of getting nothing, $100
3) A 5% chance of getting a mystery plate, 95% chance of nothing, $250.
Oh and by the way, everyone else at the restaurant is ordering what they want, for the usual price, and getting what they want. Except the woman at the booth behind you, she complains nonstop that she's pregnant with a girl and she reeeaaaallly wants a boy. You're allowed to drop your iced tea on her, by the way.
Going too far down that analogy road?
Ok, now you see how conflicted I am. My main problem is that I'm comparing apples to oranges. (Or strawberry-topped belgian waffles with a chicken caesar salad.) I'm trying to decide between stopping treatments (which is a foolproof way to *not* have another child), and pursuing treatments or some other road (which is not a surefire to end up with a child, but rather just an opportunity for one. And an expensive opportunity at that.)
How does one even make that decision?
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
Where do we go from here?
I've done a lot of thinking about what happens next. If - or when - this cycle doesn't work. Let me start by saying that while I'm not optimistic about my chances, I am absolutely hopeful. I don't want to banish that hope and say to you - or to myself - that I don't expect it to happen, or that I *know* there's no way it will happen, because that would not be true. I do hope, very much so, that my period doesn't show up on Wednesday and that I see two lines on Friday. I hope so much that I want to scream, that my head hurts sometimes, that I can't sleep at night. And in order to hope, I have to believe that I have a shot. I have to believe that there's some chance - however small - that this might work.
But at the same time, to say I'm not optimistic ... well, that's a bit of an understatement. I am holding onto hope because it doesn't want to let go, but that doesn't mean that I'm window shopping pink booties and this season's maternity clothes or picking out baby names. In fact, I find most of my thoughts swirling around the question: "What's next?"
I truthfully do not know what happens next. (If this doesn't work.) I want to do whatever it takes - I really do - but only if "whatever it takes" comes without too steep a cost. Because lately I have come to face the reality that what I have been through over the past two years has cost me. And my marriage. And my son. I am tired, so bone weary, of being consumed by this quest, and the thought of jumping off the ride now makes me feel happy and light in a way that I have not felt since I can remember. I don't believe for one second that the hits we've all taken can't be repaired; I know these wounds will heal. Of course, jumping off the ride means living the life that we didn't technically choose for ourselves, and therein lies the tough choice. We want another child. I don't know how to reconcile this; I just can't figure it out.
For now, I'll do what I'm *supposed* to do. I'll meet with the RE to discuss what went wrong, and what my next steps will be, if I choose to continue treatments. I'll put all the information aside for a short period of time ... short, because let's face it, I don't have much time to decide here. And then we'll figure out what our path will be. We'll weigh and consider, we'll take some time to heal and get stronger, and then we'll decide.
I have to say, it might be the path of least resistance.
But at the same time, to say I'm not optimistic ... well, that's a bit of an understatement. I am holding onto hope because it doesn't want to let go, but that doesn't mean that I'm window shopping pink booties and this season's maternity clothes or picking out baby names. In fact, I find most of my thoughts swirling around the question: "What's next?"
I truthfully do not know what happens next. (If this doesn't work.) I want to do whatever it takes - I really do - but only if "whatever it takes" comes without too steep a cost. Because lately I have come to face the reality that what I have been through over the past two years has cost me. And my marriage. And my son. I am tired, so bone weary, of being consumed by this quest, and the thought of jumping off the ride now makes me feel happy and light in a way that I have not felt since I can remember. I don't believe for one second that the hits we've all taken can't be repaired; I know these wounds will heal. Of course, jumping off the ride means living the life that we didn't technically choose for ourselves, and therein lies the tough choice. We want another child. I don't know how to reconcile this; I just can't figure it out.
For now, I'll do what I'm *supposed* to do. I'll meet with the RE to discuss what went wrong, and what my next steps will be, if I choose to continue treatments. I'll put all the information aside for a short period of time ... short, because let's face it, I don't have much time to decide here. And then we'll figure out what our path will be. We'll weigh and consider, we'll take some time to heal and get stronger, and then we'll decide.
I have to say, it might be the path of least resistance.
Friday, November 27, 2009
A happy sort of post
Reading back over my last several entries, you'd really think I'm a big Debbie Downer. I'm not usually so damn negative (and clearly I've had some crap hit me lately) but I also believe that mood and behavior can easily follow outlook, so I'm going to focus on the good and great stuff for a moment.
Here's what's good right now:
* A four day weekend. I mean, what's better than that? As I love to tell my husband, we're getting paid to *not* work today, and even after the two busy days we've had, we still have two more days off. Love it.
* I have half a strawberry swirl cheesecake sitting in my fridge, plus a nice chicken and stuffing dinner for tonight. (Have I mentioned that the only thing I dislike more than cooking is trying to figure out *what* to cook?)
* I have plans with my sister to go to a movie tomorrow. I love going to movies: the popcorn, the chocolate, the amazing picture and sound, and simply escaping for a couple hours. Can't wait.
* I have gift ideas for most people on my list already. Huge hurdle overcome.
Here's what's great right now:
* My kiddo. Seriously, he rocks. He's the most laid back kid out there, so chill and smart and funny.
* Everybody is happy and healthy around me lately.
* Naps. Four day weekend = at least two, maybe three, naps. Aw, yeah.
* I'm less than a week away from my period being due. I will be so relieved when this is over, because being in the middle of this wait is like a huge stupid mocking weight on my back. I know that when my period comes I'll have a new kind of crushing disappointment to deal with, on top of the kind I already am experiencing, but I want this uncertainty behind me. And it will be soon.
Here's what's good right now:
* A four day weekend. I mean, what's better than that? As I love to tell my husband, we're getting paid to *not* work today, and even after the two busy days we've had, we still have two more days off. Love it.
* I have half a strawberry swirl cheesecake sitting in my fridge, plus a nice chicken and stuffing dinner for tonight. (Have I mentioned that the only thing I dislike more than cooking is trying to figure out *what* to cook?)
* I have plans with my sister to go to a movie tomorrow. I love going to movies: the popcorn, the chocolate, the amazing picture and sound, and simply escaping for a couple hours. Can't wait.
* I have gift ideas for most people on my list already. Huge hurdle overcome.
Here's what's great right now:
* My kiddo. Seriously, he rocks. He's the most laid back kid out there, so chill and smart and funny.
* Everybody is happy and healthy around me lately.
* Naps. Four day weekend = at least two, maybe three, naps. Aw, yeah.
* I'm less than a week away from my period being due. I will be so relieved when this is over, because being in the middle of this wait is like a huge stupid mocking weight on my back. I know that when my period comes I'll have a new kind of crushing disappointment to deal with, on top of the kind I already am experiencing, but I want this uncertainty behind me. And it will be soon.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
What my ovaries have stolen from me
Of course my slacker ovaries can be said to have stolen many things from me over the years. The easy to name stuff, like a spontaneous sex life, a romantic TTC journey, and not feeling about 10 years older than I am due to their response.
But, more specifically? Recently? My slacker ovaries have stolen two important things from me.
First, I have to endure the much longer 2ww that comes with an IUI cycle. I was so looking forward to the shorter, 9 day wait, after an IVF embryo transfer. My RE doesn't do a beta until 16 days after the IUI. But since my IUI was done on a Friday, and 16 days after that is a Sunday, I have to wait until Monday, 17 days after my IUI.
(not that I'm going to make it that far; my period will come long before Monday December 7th. But still.)
Secondly, because my IVF was converted to IUI, I didn't get to have the four days of bed rest that I was so (pathetically, I know) looking forward to. I know that going under anesthesia and having a needle put through my delicate ladybits wouldn't have been fun. I'm aware. But I was *so* seeing the brightside of having a few days of bedrest. Days where I wasn't allowed to do anything but lie around and read and watch TV. A few days seemed like a nice amount of laying around time; enough time to decompress and chill out but not so much as to make me want to go crazy. It felt like pampering.
Did I mention that my birthday was last weekend? (38. Painful. Enough said.) My wonderful husband bought me three books that I was really looking forward to reading, specifically because he knew I had those days of bedrest coming up. And I bought myself a little gift too - two seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD.
I think I'll try to find a way to make it up to myself, like with a trip for a mani/pedi or by going out to a movie or something.
Stupid slacker thieving ovaries.
But, more specifically? Recently? My slacker ovaries have stolen two important things from me.
First, I have to endure the much longer 2ww that comes with an IUI cycle. I was so looking forward to the shorter, 9 day wait, after an IVF embryo transfer. My RE doesn't do a beta until 16 days after the IUI. But since my IUI was done on a Friday, and 16 days after that is a Sunday, I have to wait until Monday, 17 days after my IUI.
(not that I'm going to make it that far; my period will come long before Monday December 7th. But still.)
Secondly, because my IVF was converted to IUI, I didn't get to have the four days of bed rest that I was so (pathetically, I know) looking forward to. I know that going under anesthesia and having a needle put through my delicate ladybits wouldn't have been fun. I'm aware. But I was *so* seeing the brightside of having a few days of bedrest. Days where I wasn't allowed to do anything but lie around and read and watch TV. A few days seemed like a nice amount of laying around time; enough time to decompress and chill out but not so much as to make me want to go crazy. It felt like pampering.
Did I mention that my birthday was last weekend? (38. Painful. Enough said.) My wonderful husband bought me three books that I was really looking forward to reading, specifically because he knew I had those days of bedrest coming up. And I bought myself a little gift too - two seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD.
I think I'll try to find a way to make it up to myself, like with a trip for a mani/pedi or by going out to a movie or something.
Stupid slacker thieving ovaries.
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