Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the craziest of them all?
21 Feb 2012 4 Comments
in Motherhood, Rant Tags: Pregnancy
Sometimes, the obvious occurs to me as a revelation.
I just realized (again) that this blog is anonymous (as I have successfully avoided the urge to tell one or two close friends about its existence) and I really can write whatever I want – which means, I can write about my mother! My mother is crazy and therefore supplies me with lots of entertaining, head-shaking, absurd moments. I’ll be sure to not let her spectre take over this blog… but just a little “crazy mom” should be sprinkled in for good measure.
The short-cut to understanding my mother: she is a textbook narcissist with bi-polar disorder. This is my diagnosis. But I do have plenty of years of therapy (as both patient and therapist) to back this up.
The moment she found out I was pregnant, she broke out into tears of joy – which sounds normal-ish – but my mom cried because she sees me as an extension of herself, so somehow it’s her pregnancy. ‘Think I’m the one who’s nuts? This is a lady who usurped my birthdays – as a child, mind you – by loudly proclaiming it was really her “birth day” as a mother and actually told me that my involvement was incidental. I couldn’t help being born on a particular day – but her life, her very identity was changed that day – so it’s really a bigger deal for her than for me.
Anyway… the very first actual comment that I can remember her making after I told her about my pregnancy was, “Just eat a little bit less every day.” And the unspoken words, “So you don’t get fat,” repeated themselves in my head. What? You mean, your mother didn’t tell you to eat less when you told her you were pregnant?! Doesn’t she care how you look? Haha.
Yesterday, she was griping about how she’s getting older and feels like she can see new wrinkles every day. In an effort to try to make her feel better, I said, “I look back on our wedding pictures and already think we looked so young then – and that was only three years ago!” (I was half-joking.) And she said, “Well, that’s because you were a lot thinner then. You need to lose weight after the baby is born. You’ll have to eat less and exercise, but you can do it.” Sigh. Do I really have to go through another 7 1/2 months of this?!
My husband always tells me that after 38 years of this, her behavior shouldn’t surprise me – and he’s absolutely right, but it still does! At 75 years old, my mother has been nipped and tucked so much that she’s starting to resemble Joan Rivers. If that’s what she’s willing to do to herself, I shouldn’t be surprised by a lifetime of her critical comments about various aspects of my physical appearance.
Years and years ago when I was still single, my mom wanted to introduce me to a young man from Argentina who she thought was perfect for me (I have no idea what that means.) She said, “But before you meet him, you have to have a nose job!” I said, “A what?” “A nose job!” she repeated. I took a deep breath and held it for as long as I could before exhaling and asking, “Why?” (The seconds spanning my question and her response felt like slow, silent heart-beat minutes.) “So he will have no reason to reject you!” she quipped.
It all pales in comparison to the self-esteem-shattering comments she inflicted upon me as a helpless, vulnerable child… when everything people say about you sinks right in because you haven’t developed that armor yet. It does make me think a lot about how I want to parent my daughter and how careful I have to be about the direct and indirect messages I send her about her worth. I know I will be a very different mother than my own mother because I have consciously addressed this and gone through years of therapy with the express goal of ending the cycle with me.
I hope I can make my daughter feel that she is precious and perfect as she is. I hope she feels loved and safe and free to express herself. I want her to embrace the magic of childhood and the wonder of being alive. And, yeah… I want her to think I’m a really good mom.
Somewhere Between Tired & Lazy
19 Feb 2012 6 Comments
in Happy, Health, Support Tags: Pregnancy
I feel compelled to write something, but my mind really feels blank. I find my total lack of energy somewhat annoying and wonder if it’s really the pregnancy hormones or if on some level it’s just inertia? There are days when I have hours of energy early in the day and then – around 3 or so in the afternoon – it’s like someone pulls a plug and I fall into this comatose sleep for two or three hours. Usually, when I wake up, I’m still groggy and tired. Regardless of the naps, I am sleeping very well at night, too! Other days, it’s like I woke up and took a mild sedative. I can coast through my day as long as nothing more than emptying the dishwasher and pouring a bowl of cereal is required of me. Is this normal? I’m only 6 weeks and 2 days pregnant. Am I the laziest pregnant woman there ever was??? (I think my husband thinks so!)
Last Thursday, we had our first ultrasound and I was extremely relieved to see a perfect little yolk sac. My doctor said it was too soon to hear a heartbeat. He said we should hear a heartbeat at the 7-week ultrasound which will be this coming Friday. (I know I’m not the only one who Googles pictures of ultrasounds by week, right?) I was pleased that our 6 week ultrasound looked just like I expected. I took a pic of the ultrasound printout and text messaged it to my dad and explained that what he was looking at was the yolk sac as the baby is too small to be seen yet. And my phone immediately rang.
Dad: “What do you mean the baby is too small? Is something wrong?!”
Me: ”No, Dad — it’s just too early to see the baby at this stage.”
Dad: ”You need to be more careful with your wording!”
It’s a strange thing to experience when both your parents are way more freaked out than you are. (I have fretful thoughts now and again, but I don’t entertain them!) Advice from my mother has included things like, “Don’t walk too much.” “Don’t drive too much.” She thinks the “vibrations” from these activities will dislodge the baby. (She does know I still have sex with my husband, right?!?)
I know I’ve been a terrible blogger and an even worse comment-er… I’ll work on improving that just as soon as I get my strength back!
600
07 Feb 2012 13 Comments
My beta results from yesterday – 600! I’m terrible at moderately complex math, so I have no idea what the doubling time is on that. (Feb. 2nd = 58 and Feb. 6th = 600) I write that just in case any of you know the secret formula and want to tell me – haha!
I’ll go back on February 16th for our first ultrasound, which I didn’t really think was necessary at first, but when I thought about it some more, I guess it’s mainly to make sure the pregnancy is intrauterine (as opposed to ectopic) so, yeah… that would be good to know! The reason I didn’t want to go in for such an early ultrasound is because I’m pretty sure I’m not going to see anything worthwhile at 5 1/2 weeks. And what I’m really afraid of is seeing that dreaded empty sac. I don’t even like to talk about that, but the only other time I was ever pregnant, that’s all we ever got to see. Even at week 7, when the ultrasound technician was trying to tell me I could be a couple of weeks off with my pregnancy math – which, of course, is next-to-impossible when you’re a compulsive fertility charter!
In my heart of hearts, it feels like this time is really different. But if there’s one theme for this journey through infertility, it really seems to be “you never know what’s around the corner!” I hope good things. I think I’ve had enough “character growth” to last a little while and I would just love to relax into the miracle of this pregnancy and enjoy some time basking in the glow of it all.
I know it’s almost sacrilege in the realm of veteran IVF-ers to actually tell a whole bunch of people (IRL) what you’re doing and when you’re doing it… and even worse to tell folks about a positive pregnancy test (gasp!) but that’s precisely what I have done – and what has been different about the 3rd round. Now, I’m not saying that this was the best idea I ever had – nor am I saying that I wouldn’t wish to un-tell certain people, given the chance, but my reasoning in doing so was to create a synergy of prayer & positive energy to give my last IVF the best possible odds of success. And I think that was achieved. In fact, I’ve been so moved by the number of people whose spouses also prayed for me! I never envisioned that. It’s been wonderful to feel all the love & support – and I think, much, much better than the loneliness of the first two cycles where only one or two women (who’d struggled with infertility themselves) knew.
Yesterday, I got a phone call from one of my oldest friends – we’ve known each other since about age 5, so she’s the closest thing to a(n annoying) sister I have. If you read one of my earlier ranting posts, she’s the one who is obsessed with St. Rita and truly believes that all requests made to St. Rita are granted. (I’m sure you can imagine why I might find this irritating!) Anyway, she called to tell me about a vision she had about me while she was driving. She had a similar vision days before she conceived her own son a few years ago. [Note: I do love when people have visions, dreams, messages for me - it saves so much work on my part!] So she said that she got the message that I was pregnant (before I told her my results) and that I was having a baby girl (no one IRL knows this!!!) and then she said that she got a message about what my daughter’s name should be. Until this point, I was elated and had to contain my excitement so as to not tip my hand and give her any idea about how right she was about it being a girl! Then she said, “And you’re supposed to name her ‘Faith.’” (If you had inserted a microphone into my brain at that very moment, you would have heard crickets chirping.)
No offense to anyone who is named Faith, loves someone named Faith, is choosing to name their baby girl Faith, etc. but for two devoutly non-religious people like hubby & me, that name is way too loaded. Ain’t. Gonna. Happen. That’s the catch with having other people interpret visions/dreams for you!
More on prophetic dreams & such later, if I can get to it. The one pregnancy symptom that is really kicking in is that I become ridiculously fatigued in the afternoons, starting somewhere around 3:30 p.m. and we are so there right now….
Seriously.
04 Feb 2012 9 Comments
in Happy, Health, Infertility, Miracle Tags: IVF, Miracle
Before I write anything else, I have to express how humbled and grateful I am to the extraordinary women who offered me words of encouragement in my time of need – some of whom were going through very difficult times themselves.
Your generosity has been food for my soul. You all have a very special place in my heart and I will continue to keep you in my prayers. I want you all to get your miracles!
So, back at the ranch…. I kept getting negatives on those cheap “Wondfo” sticks from China – I now officially detest them – all through to the afternoon of 7dp5dt. At day 12 past retrieval, there’s no question in my mind that the test should have shown a positive, but that coupled with my lack of symptoms had already reduced me to a sobbing, inconsolable mess. Not one to be deterred by a complete emotional breakdown, I decided to take one more test at about 7:30 p.m. — hoping against hope I would receive a different outcome. This time, the stick had the faintest whisper of a line. In fact, it was such a squinter that if I looked away for a second and then back, it would disappear.
I decided it was time to pull out the special, “expensive” Answer test that’s been sitting in my bottom dresser drawer for well over a year and see what “answer” it had to give me! (Ohh… that was a baaad joke!) Using the same pee (TMI?) I dipped the test and minutes later a clear, albeit faint, second line appeared. I froze. Hand cupped over my mouth and eyes about to pop out of my head – I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! I laughed, I cried (happy tears this time), I squealed. I just had no idea what to do with myself.
Hubby showed up about an hour later from work. He’d picked up a bottle of Vodka and some chocolate – smart man, hedging his bets! When I gave him the good news, I think he was more relieved than anything else and I know, excited to get his “happy wife” back.
The following morning, I tested again with Wonfo (because I had no more “real” tests) and there was no second line. That threw me into a bit of a panic as horrible ideas like “chemical pregnancy” started to swirl in my head. But that was the day I’d know for sure because I had scheduled my beta for 10 a.m. (Isn’t 8dp5dt a little early to test at a clinic?) Anyway, I got the thing over with and then I had to wait for them to call me with the results. I am a bad wait-er.
Thanks to Google, I discovered that a beta of 25 – 50 mIU/ml would be considered “inconclusive.” And, I had always read that those stupid Wondfo strips were sensitive to the 25 mIU/ml level, so I really wanted to buy a better test to be sure. I went to CVS and had to wait forever for one of their cashier/zombies to unlock the glass case with the pregnancy tests. Just as the guy was unlocking the cabinet, my cell phone rang. It was the clinic.
I took a deep breath and answered. My usually dry doctor made a sweet attempt at humor and then said, “I’m only kidding around with you because I have good news. You are seriously pregnant!” I said, “Seriously?!” And he said, “Seriously.” “How seriously?” I asked. “Beta of 58,” he said. And I sank into the warm golden glow of utter happiness and joy.
We did it. We’re smack dab in the middle of the best miracle I have ever known.
And then there was ONE
30 Jan 2012 11 Comments
in Happy, Infertility, Letting Go Tags: Infertility, IVF
Today is 5 days past the 5-day transfer. For those of you keeping score (really probably only me) that’s 3 IVFs, 34 eggs retrieved, 22 fertilized & analyzed, and a grand total of… can I have a drumroll, please?
ONE. Normal. Embryo.
Well, at least there was one, right? The alternative would have been much worse.
So… because no one I know in real life reads this, I will tell you, dear anonymous person struggling with infertility, that our little blastocyst is a female. It feels kind of special to know that for some reason. And it’s funny, too, because all my mom’s psychic friends have predicted either a male child or male twins. Not on this round, I’m afraid, ladies!
Oh, and, I find it very interesting that the normal embryo was actually one of our frosties from IVF #2 – the cycle where I was the most stressed-out, sleep-deprived, and depressed! That was actually quite a surprise to me. Still, I’m glad we let her get to the 5-day blastocyst stage. I feel/hope/pray that will give her a better chance to implant.
The transfer procedure itself was actually extremely romantic. I know it sounds like I’m being sarcastic, but I’m not – I swear! We were in a transfer room with dim lighting and “mood” music – which I found to be both simultaneously cheesy and relaxing. I was lying down with my legs in stirrups (okay, that’s not romantic) as doctors & nurses bustled about readying everything. My darling husband sat behind me, stroking my hair, gazing at me lovingly, and gently tracing the features of my face. I felt so incredibly loved.
During the actual embryo transfer, the music became quite dramatic and hubby said something about it sounding like Liberace! I said, “Are you seriously telling me that our baby is being implanted to Liberace?!” It was all I could do to control my laughter. (Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep still when every part of you is trying to repress a full-belly laugh?) “It’s Debussy,” our RE chimed in, “I think this is the music you hear when you go to Heaven,” he added. We were immediately reduced to naughty school children who want nothing more than to bust out laughing during a very serious lesson! It was an awesome experience.
So that was 5 days ago now… and I spent the first 2 days feeling blissful and like my dreams had already come true. Day 3 was okay. Day 4 was very blah. And day 5, today, has sucked. All my hope & optimism seem to have vanished – along with any symptoms, I might add! No more sore boobs? I mean, Progesterone alone causes sore boobs for me and I’ve been on the suppositories since before the transfer. No more bloating? I have bloating even when I’m not going through IVF – what the hell is happening here? The only “symptom” I have, if you can really even call it that, is depression. I cried like there was no tomorrow this morning. I just couldn’t shake this horrible foreboding. I mean, box of Kleenex, snot-dripping-down-your-shirt type of sobbing. I know we’re not supposed to jump to conclusions, but I really, really don’t FEEL pregnant.
I was excited yesterday because I experienced some serious fluttering in my uterus. That has never happened before and I convinced myself it was a sign, however, my best-friend-Google says it can mean almost anything, which really means it means nothing. And of course, I thought it would make me feel less anxious if I could pee on a stick and pretend there was a faint line somewhere. So, I did… and there wasn’t. I mean it was stark blinding white no matter which angle I looked at it!
That made me really sad. (Yes, I know it’s too early, I’m just losing it.) This can’t really be it, can it? Six months, 3 surgeries, $35,000 and immeasurable heartache for this? I’m having a hard time existing in limbo. I don’t know what I will do if it doesn’t work.
Emptying Out My [Sharps] Container
24 Jan 2012 4 Comments
in Infertility, Letting Go Tags: IVF
These aren’t technically all of them … but the collection contains sharps from all three IVFs. I played around with various {low tech} options, trying to find which one makes it seem the most distant.
The Wait Before “The Wait”
23 Jan 2012 2 Comments
in Happy, Infertility Tags: Infertility, IVF
My ER was Friday and I have to say, it was the easiest one so far. Prior to the retrieval, I was in the prep room, lying down in the hospital bed [wearing 2 gowns, booties over my double socks (hey, it gets cold!) and that strange shower cap thing (I still can't figure out what that's for!)] and I was happy & calm. I closed my eyes and took some time to thank my ovaries for all their hard work. I told them that I knew they had gone through a lot and that they had done the best they could. And that I was grateful for all their efforts.
When I opened my eyes, I found my doctor standing above me. “I’m just having a talk with my ovaries,” I said, smiling. “And the Lord!” he replied. Is it strange that my Jewish doctor refers to God as “the Lord”? I always associate that phrase with Christians. Anyway, I’m neither, but I find “God” to be a good shortcut term (people will fill in their own interpretations and I don’t have to do any explaining.) Win-win!
I was in a good space and that was important to me. The nurse escorted me into the OR and had me lie down on that weird cross shaped bed with the raised stirrup-type legs. After minimal small talk, the anesthesiologist (a different one from the other two times) started my I.V. Since I’d never seen any of the nurses before, I revived my old joke about feeling like I was about to undergo an alien abduction – have you seen those creepy round lights? That is exactly what it looks like! They laughed and the anesthesiologist told me I must be watching too much t.v. and right about then, I felt the sinking / floating sensation of narcotics flowing through my veins. How I love that feeling!
I woke up, what seemed like minutes later, back in the recovery bed, feeling only slightly sore. I looked at the clock and only about 25 minutes had passed. The nurse called my husband in to keep me company and soon afterwards, we were told they retrieved 8 eggs with one looking impossibly small. I was happy with that. The following morning, I got an early call from the doctor to let me know that we had 6 eggs successfully fertilize. Woo hoo!
Even though I didn’t produce as many eggs this time as I have before, more than ever, we are concentrating on the eggs being healthy. Who knows? Maybe fewer eggs will translate to healthier eggs?
Right now, my pre-TWW wait has begun. The 6 embryos from this retrieval will be combined with the 4 frosties from IVF #2 and they will all undergo PGD. In fact, since today is Day 3, they may even be undergoing testing as I write this. All my hopes & prayers are concentrated on their health. (Please, God, let them be normal!) My doctor said we probably won’t know the results until the morning of my scheduled transfer (this Wednesday). It does make me a little nervous – and at the risk of totally jinxing this – I do, actually, have a good feeling about it. I certainly hope I’m not wrong.
While I haven’t had any pregnancy dreams yet, I did have a dream last night that my husband and I were looking at pictures of a beautiful blonde girl, about 4 years old, and I knew that she was our daughter in the dream and we were so in love with her! (It’s a little odd that neither of us is blond, right?) Lol. I don’t know… the details don’t matter much, but the wonderful feeling from the dream lasted for hours after I got up. I feel happy and hopeful. Please let this time be our time.
Matters of the Heart
18 Jan 2012 2 Comments
in Health, Infertility Tags: Health, Infertility, IVF
On Saturday, one of our dearest friends (and husband’s band-mate), suffered a heart attack while performing on stage. At 41 years of age and in very good health as far as anyone knew, it was a complete shock to all of us. Luckily, the quick and decisive action of the friends who rushed him to the hospital saved his life.
I didn’t find out about it until Sunday morning. A friend of my husband’s had called several times – but I was at the clinic (yes, on a Sunday!) getting blood drawn and listening to another lackluster ultrasound report. [9 follicles, only 3 look like the right size... yawn.] {The “yawn” is not because I don’t care. Of course I care! I’m just done with letting it zap me of all my positive energy, that’s all. I can’t really afford to give it that much attention. But I digress!} So, when I was finally able to, I called back and received the news that “T” had had a heart attack and the information did not fully process in my mind because it seemed so outrageous! Tears and panic quickly set in on my drive home, and I was both beside myself with worry and deeply grateful that he was/is alive.
Suddenly, all my thoughts turned from my current IVF cycle, to how I could be there for our friend. It was just the change of perspective I needed.
“T” is one of my favorite people on the planet. Smart, funny, and extremely sarcastic… it’s not until you really get to know him that you discover he is one of the kindest & most generous human beings. He’s a man’s man (and a definite ladies’ man) but under that somewhat tough exterior is a tender and lovely soul. The world needs more people like him in it, that I know for sure.
Visiting him in the ICU was rough, mostly because he was the healthiest person in there. I walked swiftly past beds with patients, many of whom already seemed to be in their final hours, to the room all the way at the end – to where our friend was. I saw his ex-wife first. She’d hadn’t left his side for even a moment and looked worse for the wear. It was touching to me that she was there, caring for him. Her love was apparent. I thought briefly about how my parents (who still despise one another after 20 years of being divorced) would never be capable of such compassion. But people like “T” tend to inspire that kind of devotion.
I was relieved to find him lucid and in good spirits, but I could see that he was also tired and… something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He’d lost some of his invincibility. Something in his eyes looked different, softer, more vulnerable perhaps. It occurred to me that his life would never go on as before. That it would be forever marked as “before the heart attack” and “after the heart attack” just as mine is separated into “before the miscarriage” and “after the miscarriage.” Because in a profound way, losing my child changed me. The loss of innocence often does that to a person.
I don’t know what I’ll find out this month that will mark my life again. Before the pregnancy / after the pregnancy or… before I found out I could never have biological children / after I found out I could never have biological children. It’s rare that one knows when one is standing on the precipice of monumental change. I think it may be a blessing in disguise in that I can decide, right here on the razor’s edge, that I am going to be okay no matter what happens.
In the end, I know I have the love & support of my wonderful husband, family and friends to see me through to the next chapter.
stripped
13 Jan 2012 4 Comments
in Infertility Tags: Infertility, IVF
It seems like nearly every time I go to the clinic these days, I have to scrape myself up off the floor – emotionally – and try to drag myself up by the bootstraps afterwards. Is there no such thing as good news anymore? Or is that just for other people? I’m seriously beginning to wonder.
So, for all the eating healthy, moderately exercising, mindful walking and hypnosis subjecting I’ve done to myself, what do I have to show for it? Poorly progressing follicles, apparently. In fact, I have so few follicles that I no longer qualify for the FDA study. Goodbye $4,000 and goodbye chances for freezing anything. At least, that’s what my doctor seems to think and I have no reason to doubt his expertise.
I almost wish now that they wouldn’t tell me how I’m progressing at all so I can at least have hope until the very end. What is the purpose of stripping me of the only thing I have to cling onto? Can’t I just enjoy being hopeful and positive for a little bit longer?
It feels like there’s a giant sword of Damocles hanging by the slenderest thread above my head. This could be the cycle I find out that I can never have biological children of my own… or it could turn out completely differently; one never knows. I do know that I will be praying with every cell in my being that those follicles that are developing turn out to be normal after the PGD. If you can or want to, please, please pray for me, too.
It’s a deep, deep well
09 Jan 2012 8 Comments
in Infertility Tags: Infertility, IVF
So, up until I went to my afternoon appointment to start the third – and I believe final – round of IVF, I had been feeling really positive and even… dare I say, happy. I was actually quite proud of myself and my new-found “attitude of gratitude.” (I can’t actually believe I used that phrase – I am such a dork!)
I was inspired by a story I remember hearing a long time ago about Dolly Parton on a movie set (Steel Magnolias?) Whatever the movie was, it was being filmed in sweltering summer heat & humidity and the actors were spending long days on set – sweating, overheating, and complaining about it all. One of the actresses noticed that Dolly hadn’t complained at all and inquired as to why. Dolly reportedly responded, “I dreamed my whole life of being here and now that I am, I’m not going to complain!”
It occurred to me that the same principle applies to my undergoing IVF. Yes, it’s stressful, expensive, invasive, painful (on so many levels)… but that’s not all it is. It is also something that allows me to have hope, make informed decisions about my body, and to some degree control over my reproductive journey. If I didn’t have my father’s financial help, there would be no way in the world that I could pay for it out of pocket at this point in my life. That’s something for which I am deeply grateful. In fact, the more I think about how many women find themselves mired in infertility without the benefit of at least trying IVF, the luckier I realize I am.
This realization brought with it a serenity that I had not felt in some time.
For better or worse, I am lucky to have the opportunity for IVF #3. While I have no control over the outcome, I still have a tremendous appreciation for the journey…. Which is why it completely took me by surprise that I was overcome by the same heavy sense of grief that I felt at the beginning of IVF #2 almost immediately upon leaving the clinic. The light, happy feeling had gone and in its place was the all-too-familiar well of sadness. It was all I could do to not burst into tears as soon as I got into my car. But, why?!?
Is the sadness itself an omen that things won’t go well this time? Was I reacting to the fact that my RE was in a bad mood today and didn’t treat me warmly like he did last week? Maybe it was a delayed reaction to him telling me that I might not qualify for the FDA trial because I didn’t have enough antral follicles developing? The study requires a minimum of 14 antral follicles and my RE only counted 10 – which he told me, for the first time ever, is an indication of how many follicles I’ll produce this cycle. Gee, you think I could have used that information last time? Okay. I think I’m onto something here. I think that’s when the sadness kicked in. It’s kind of like knowing right in the beginning that your chances don’t look good. And with two failed cycles in my back pocket and no lottery winnings to pay for countless IVFs… maybe this is the end of the line for my childbearing efforts? No wonder I felt sad!
Well, source of sadness demystified! But what now? Do I believe him and accept what he says about my body as true? Or do I shrug it off and continue the optimistic course, believing that my energy affects my body and that absolutely anything is possible? I don’t know. I know what I want to say… but I don’t know what I’ll actually do. I’m really wishing now that my husband were home and not working a late shift tonight. I need my best friend.
