Topic of Discussion

“Your eggs look good.” That’s what my doctors tell me every time I go in to see them. So, with this last cycle I didn’t expect anything to be different, and it wasn’t until I got a phone call from one of my doctors who informed me that I had been the topic of discussion at their last department meeting. Apparently, my case is quite puzzling and the doctors are baffled as to why the treatment isn’t working for me considering how “good” my eggs look and how many I produce each month, not to mention how strong my husband’s little swimmers are. On paper (and on sono) everything is wonderful. I should be picking out names for twins or triplets even, but in my crazy life, I’m missing shots like Shaq at the free throw line. I can see the basket and I got skillz, but making babies just isn’t my thing.

So, what Dr. Badnews had to say wasn’t unexpected, but difficult to hear nonetheless. Basically, if this cycle doesn’t work, I should seriously consider in vitro fertilization. What!?! First, IVF is expensive - $18,000. Second, it’s not guaranteed, meaning if I don’t get pregnant, I don’t get my money back. Since, I’m my blessed with many things and material wealth not being one of them, this option was not feasible. So, what did I do? I cried. I cried because I wasn’t getting pregnant, I cried because my doctors, who are experts in their field, couldn’t tell me why, and I cried because my only other option was one that would cost me thousands of dollars that I did not have. In the middle of my blubber and bawl session, I got a revelation – and this too shall pass. I immediately thought about all of the situations I’d been in that I thought would end the world as I knew it, and I managed to get through each and every one of them with flying colors and a lesson learned. There are so many people in my life who are supporting me in this time of unimaginable heartache and I am so grateful. I’m sure that this situation, as with others in my past, will lead me toward many blessings – in due time.

The Saga Continues

Ten units of Lupron and one hundred units of Menopur... that's my nightly regimen for about 12 days. I remember when I first start how hard it was to even think about sticking myself with a needle. But, now I can fill a syringe like a 3^rd-year med student and poke myself in the belly like nobody’s business. The key is to take a deep breath in & stick yourself on the exhale. In fact, the only thing I notice is the mass of belly fat that resembles an arctic seal in the middle of winter. That’ll take your mind off of a little needle prick any day. Along with the injections, come visits to the fertility clinic about every three days. At every appointment, the medical assistant takes my blood pressure and weight. For some reason, the scale at the clinic gives a different reading than my scale at home. Even though I always ask the assistant to take off about 3 pounds for the weight of my clothes and shoes, she never does. So, my last appointment was no different than the others.

After the weigh-in, I’m led to the exam room where the pictures are interesting to look at (the show the development of a baby from conception to birth), the air condition is set a bit too low, and the sonogram machine is the focal point of the room. The doctor enters the room, greets me, looks at my eggs on the sono screen and tells me that my eggs are progressing well. This time the doctor counted about six potential little ones getting ripe & ready for man seed. This cycle my right ovary is leading 5 to 1. Being on my third cycle, this news is routine. Hopefully, I’ll have a different outcome… in due time.

Ebb and Flow

Infertility is defined as the diminished ability or the inability to conceive and have offspring, but for me and thousands of other women it is so much more. My five year journey towards motherhood has been an emotional, physical and psychological ebb and flow. I have always considered myself a strong woman. Like so many other women, I juggle multiple aspects of family and work while trying to maintain a sense of self. These days, however, I’m not feeling so strong. After two rounds of fertility clinic visits, fertility drug injections, and insemination with no success, feelings of defeat are beginning to surface.

At first, talking about the process with family, friends and my dear husband helped ease the frustration of not having my own little person to love, nurture and guide. Now, every time I walk by the infant section at Target, or see a dad holding his little baby in a BabyBjorn, or see a pregnant woman in passing, I experience momentary feelings of disappointment and disillusionment. I can’t help but think, ‘Why me?’ or ‘Why did I postpone having a baby to get married, get an education, or a career?’ When I write those questions down, it sounds silly. I have no regrets about wanting to have a husband before a child, and I certainly don’t regret having an education or a career. Somehow, all of those things seem less significant in my life at this point because this missing piece to my life’s puzzle.

So, as I enter my third cycle of treatment, I’m donning my rose-colored glasses. God is on my favorites list, I’m trying new ways to relieve my stress – yoga, meditation, and I continually remind myself that things will fall into place perfectly… in due time.