Two Years

Today is June 14, 2007. It is my friend's daughter's 10th birthday today; she's finally entering the "double digit" years. I'll call her later and I'm hoping to take her out with hubby's kids next weekend to a movie and to have the kids over for a swim.

Today is June 14, 2007. On this date in 1996, my paternal grandmother passed away suddenly while I was in Japan teaching. She had been in a home for some time, afflicted with Alzheimer's. When I last saw her at Christmas in 1995, she didn't recognize me although I was able to hold her hand and tell her that I loved her. I was unable to attend the funeral; I regret that to this day. I regret that I never got to say goodbye.

Today is June 14, 2007. I had my first IUI in September 2004, and it ended with a miscarriage between 4 and 5 weeks. Had it held, I would have had a two-year old child today. Two years ago today, June 14, 2005, was my due date. But it didn't hold; my arms are still empty. And I am beginning to doubt that it was ever meant to be.

Off the Rails

Deli meats? Check.
Soft cheeses? Check.
Alcohol? Check.
Heavy lifting? Check.
Bending, stretching and pulling muscles? Check.
Stressing out (not about IF-related stuff)? Check.


All hope lost? Check. Double check in fact.

This rollercoaster is plummeting fast. Wind whipping my hair and sheer terror on my face cause I know the coaster is going to go right off the rails any moment.

I f*cking hate infertility. But you probably knew that.

How many DPO is it again?

So... ho hum... it's Thursday. What's new? Nada. Nada de nada in fact.

Correction, the only thing that is new is the fact that I am positively SWAMPED at work. In about one month, I'm due to take over as Acting Manager in our section and I've already entered the fray with various staffing actions that need to be completed during my time in the position. Can you say "Red Tape" boys and girls? I knew you could!

I'm really worried about my mom's health. I wish I could find someone who could help her. There are two issues going on, both of which have been diagnosed however, surgeons are not willing to treat the first without ensuring that the second can also be treated. So far, no luck on that front; and with every passing day I hear how it is affecting her. With Mom and Dad's recent visit (along with two aunts), I saw firsthand how things have changed, even since Christmas when I saw them all in Florida. It tears me up to watch her go through this. I wish I could be there to help; I hate being so far away. Since the day before they left, I have shed buckets of tears. For her. For me. For the situation. I think I need to research neurosurgeons and neurologists in Canada to see what else can be done or where else she can go. It certainly can't hurt.

I'm handling the 2ww... barely. I don't hold much hope anymore; I just don't expect us to get lucky at all in this quest now. That may be the progesterone talking of course. It's one of those days; my hubby would say, "I know someone who needs milk and cookies and a nap." I think I'd agree with him.

Wahoo!

Aaaaand... we're at the top! As you look out across the twisted steel track of the coaster, you have the reaction that I once had atop a coaster, "Holy sh*t, are we on THAT ride?" *eyes wide with fear* You wonder if you've made the right decision by opting for this ride. You wonder if you're going to actually WALK off at the end. You wonder if maybe there's been some mistake and you're supposed to be on the kiddie coaster instead. But no. This is the real deal. And the coaster is in motion and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

At today's appointment, the following:
CD12
Right: three mature follicles -- 1.89, 1.99, 1.87
Left: bunch of little ones, still (blah)
HCG trigger given
Half of one donor sample used (I really felt that going in this morning!)
Meds: 200 mg prome.trium prescribed (oral, not vaginal; I asked about this and he says there is no study that says that taking progesterone in vaginal suppositories is any more effective. The absorption rate is equivalent, and there is much less mess when you take them orally rather than vaginally! Obviously! Hearing about the ickiness, hubby was inclined to have me continue taking them orally too!)

I go back again Monday morning to see if I have ovulated and to use the other half of the donor sample.

Here is where I insert many silent prayers, hopes, dreams and wishes. I won't object if you would like to do that too.

Love to you all. Fingers crossed!

Still Climbing!

This is where you JUST begin to tightly grip that crossbar across your lap. It's the moment of a huge smile and the anticipation of excitement. It's the climb to the top of the coaster. You're on your way and it's thrilling! Here's the progress of my coaster for today, CD10.

Left side: nothing to speak of; a bunch of little follies but they will likely not mature in time
Right side: THREE really good follies! 1.45 cm, 1.34 cm, 1.15 cm
Endometrium: 7.34 mm
Pure.gon: continue with 50 IUs Saturday

Next check on the coaster: 7:45 a.m. Sunday morning (CD12). And yes, the new donor samples I ordered have arrived at the RE's office. All looks good. Please God, the coaster will stay on the tracks!

Hold on, the coaster is on the way up!

We all talk about how the whole IF thing is a h*lluva rollercoaster. Well, if this cycle is a rollercoaster, then we're on the way up right now. The car has just engaged on the track and you can hear the "click, click, click" as you start to rise. This is when you are smiling and holding the safety bar pretty loosely, giggling like a schoolgirl at the fun you're about to have. Though, I never imagined sub-cue injections as being "fun" in the grand scheme of things.

My appointment at the RE's this morning went well. Here are the stats.

CD8
Endometrium: 6.92 (really good for CD8 he says)
Right: two @ 9mm each
Left: one @ 9mm (Wow, I have three good follies this month! Superb!)
Pure.gon injections: 50 IUs started as of today; to continue until next appointment
Next appointment: Friday, June 1 @ 7:30 a.m.

Keep arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. Here we go!

One More Year

My birthday is today; I'm 37. Wow. That sounds old. When did that happen? I wasn't paying attention obviously.

Another year passed by without any luck. Another year of hopes and dreams... gone. And as I embark on this year, I hold on to a shred of hope. The faint glimmer that somewhere, out there, someone is listening and can make this work. That God is listening to my prayers and will help us achieve this goal and fulfil our dreams.

A tiny sliver of certainty tells me something else: If I get to 38 and still haven't been lucky, then it will be time to throw in the towel. So I have one year left. One year to do this and be successful.

I hold hope that this new donor will bring us luck. I feel good about changing donors and I feel good about this coming cycle. But I don't feel so good about my birthday.

When you're a child, birthdays are so important. They mark huge milestones. "I'm 5," so that means going to school. "I'm 10," oooh, double digits! "I'm 13," a teenager! "I'm 17," a drivers licence! "I'm 19," give me a beer! "I'm 25," quarter of a century! And on and on it goes. Milestones to celebrate and enjoy. But at 37, there are no milestones. There are no huge things to mark anymore. There is... nothing. Oh yes, of course, there are wishes from family and friends. There is love from my husband and I recognize that I am lucky in many respects. These things are not trivial, by no stretch of the imagination and I give thanks for them. However, at age 37, I'd hoped to have children by now and to look forward to celebrating THEIR birthdays and milestones, rather than just marking passing years in my own life. There are bigger, more important things in life than me. And I would love to be part of that.

Please God, may this year bring me the ultimate birthday gift.

Coping... and Next Steps

The Red Wench (aka AF) is gone and I've already started Clomid for this cycle. At this point, I don't know whether to laugh or cry about that.

Thank you for your kind words. It is so good to know that there are people here who really GET IT. You understand. You've been there and you know the pain, the tears and the grief. It's draining isn't it? I feel utterly drained when the realization hits me that yet again, the IUI didn't work. I get lethargic. I get weepy. I withdraw and want to curl in a ball under the covers and not come out for a week. I become resentful and sullen and quiet. My friends see this and they know. They encourage me and give me a shoulder to lean on. But I wonder how much of my seesaw emotions my friends can truly deal with. I'm sure many of my male friends are just sick of it by now... one or two in particular. Logicially, they understand quite well what I'm going through. But psychologically? Emotionally? I'm not sure. YOU guys do get it though. And that is why I am here. Because sometimes I need to lean on this thoughtful, caring community; I know you've travelled this path as well. And together, somehow we'll get through it.

I am trying very hard to look on the bright side and maintain my (normally) positive outlook on life. On the positive side, we've only really tried three times with GOOD sperm. A mere three times where we had a real chance. That isn't all that many, is it? Or am I deluding myself? Sure, we tried for ages with my husband's aspirated sperm, but we never knew the quality of that sperm, the quantity, the motility, whether there were issues, etc., because when you aspirate, you cannot get enough sperm to do a semen analysis. So after biting the bullet and moving to a donor, we've only had three attempts. In the grand scheme of things, that is relatively reasonable right?

Anyway, reasonable or not, I just spent another $1500 for three more samples. But this time, a different donor. The one we had used last time is not available at the moment. Hubby and I narrowed down our choices and we sent in our list of three. Of that list of three, our first choice isn't available, but our second choice is. And from what I can gather, he's relatively young. For some reason, that strikes me as odd... having a young guy come in to "get the job done." I'm crossing my fingers that his sperm CAN get the job done. If we aren't successful with these three attempts, we're moving to the bigger, badder version of all of this: IVF.

I have an appointment on CD8 to determine whether I'll be using Pure.gon again this time around. And an appointment for that PAP shortly thereafter. Here we go again. I hate this rollercoaster now; does the ride ever end?