This blog was born in depression and trauma. Just the name, Of Mice and Men, is a sad reminder for me. The tags and categories SPINA BIFIDA, NTD, ABORTION, TFMR, INFERTILITY – they mock me anytime I try to make a hopeful post.
I felt I needed a new start, so I did.
The address is cycleday1, because I wanted a fresh start, a new cycle. I’ll try to remember to cross post here as well, but I’m not making any promises. I’m not abandoning this blog – I’m sure I’ll use it to vent and write more about TFMR, especially with the elections coming up, but I want my focus to be more positive, especially since I’m shelling out so much money. I am not hiding my TFMR on my new blog, but that is not going to be the focus. I really feel like the focus of this blog was trauma; I want the focus of the new blog to be my IVF process and (hopefully) a pregnancy journal.
Hope to see some of you there!
DH constantly reminds me that energy can’t be destroyed, but not as poignantly as this. I hope you find it as helpful as I do.
Warning: I’ve had a long weekend and what follows is just ramblings from the brink of exhaustion. Don’t read too much into this or take things personally, and take everything with a grain of salt.
We go in on Friday for a post-op visit. I’m hoping that’s when I’ll get a schedule for medication and retrieval.
And honestly, I’m not getting excited about it. I guess I’m looking forward to getting answers and planning this out – I really like knowing what’s going on and I’m hoping to get some answers, but I’m not planning nurseries or picking out names.
I’m a little nervous about injections and crazy hormones. I’m also a little worried about if I do get pregnant – will I enjoy this pregnancy? Bond with the baby(ies)? Be able to handle everything?
I had a few of these worries before, but they seem more pronounced now, perhaps because I had already considered and embraced the childfree life, and to be honest, I was looking forward to being a DINK. None of those plans have to be scrapped if we become parents, but obviously our priorities will change.
I’m supposed to go to a RESOLVE led infertility support group tomorrow, so I’m hoping that they can help get a handle on what’s going on. I’m nervous to tell them the full story of what happened, so I think I’ll just say what I’m comfortable saying: that I got pregnant, but my daughter had a poor pre-natal diagnosis: open neural tube defect and hydrocephalus and just leave it at that.
Has anyone gone to any kind of support group, either for grief or infertility? I decided to skip the grief groups because they were all religiously affiliated, and I’m not down with that. I don’t need any more people to tell me about God’s plan or tell me that I’ll see my daughter again in Heaven. I find that infertiles are generally very compassionate, but I’m also worried about grief competition. Yeah. I said it. There are people out there who have to out-grief you. Like no matter what you say, they have to trivialize what you’ve experienced by pretending to relate to it. But again, I haven’t dealt with these people in the TFMR, baby loss, or infertility groups. Maybe in a few general online support forums, but those are the same people who make inconsiderate comments in an infertility thread or do drive-by BFP announcements (universally seen as tacky, but it’s hard to regulate when you have an open forum that anyone can join).
So, I’m curious about tomorrow. I have no idea when I’ll come home and if I’ll have time to update, but I’ll make sure the next post isn’t done when I’m borderline delirious.
I’m tired of being happy for other people. Why do I have to be happy for things other people really take for granted?
I’m tired of my father and his stupid, insensitive comments. I know he means well, but it doesn’t make him any less of a jerk face. He doesn’t get it. Any of it. Delusional.
I’m ashamed that my husband has such a positive attitude about the future and I feel like dead weight.
I’m tired of people reassuring me that I’ll get pregnant. Stop lying to me to make yourself feel better. I can’t get pregnant without IVF, and there’s no guarantee that’s going to happen either. Reassure me that I’ll be happy either way, but stop the useless optimism. It’s only going to make me angry and you look like an asshole.
I just needed to indulge in a bit of self pity. I’ll stop the vomit now.
Surgery went well Monday, but I stayed home from work Wednesday because I wasn’t feeling well. I think I just overdid it Tuesday. I see the RE next Friday.
The pictures are there just to break up the monotony of complaints.
I’m doing okay, really.
So, I had a bit of a freak out on Monday. I went into my fertility portal and read my results from Friday’s baselines tests.
And they weren’t good.
Since I went to this clinic in 2011 for my very first IUI cycle, I can easily compare numbers, and this is what I got:
2011 AMH = .74
2014 AMH = .61
2011 FSH = 8.01
2013 FSH = 14.7
I flipped out. I started googling and had convinced myself that I wasn’t a candidate for IVF and that I needed to cancel my hysteroscopy on Monday. The nurse called me back that night, but it wasn’t enough, so the doctor called me on Tuesday himself, which I needed.
He told me not to freak out about to numbers and calmed me down with science, statistics, and compassion. (I tried to go with alliteration, but my brain isn’t working tonight.) He also gave me good news – my antral follicle count was higher than I thought – remember I said I had 8? Well that was just on one ovary. I actually had a total count of 15! So, that made me a little happier.
To be honest, I still don’t know what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. I only hallway understand what the numbers are, and I don’t even remotely understand what they MEAN, so I’m just trying to stay away from Dr. Google.
My h-scope is still scheduled for Monday, but I’m not too fussed about that – I don’t consider that real surgery, even though I’m getting anesthesia – I’m not getting cut. It’s not like my laparoscopy, and even that wasn’t anything to complain about (except I had a mild “outie” for a few months afterwards.)
DH is going to a urologist next week, so we’ll hopefully finally see what damage his disorder has causing (is causing?) to his swimmers. If you recall, sperm count was a concern for us (and one of the drugs he’s on is know for lowering numbers), but since we are doing IVF, we don’t need millions and millions. We just need enough to fertilize however many eggs I lay.
I can’t really keep secrets, so I’ve already spilled the beans to most people. What’s the worst that can come out of it? I have people cheering me on (I’m keeping the paranoid V. in the box – no one is giving me the evil eye, right?) and if I fail, I have a whole bunch of people who will go drinking with me!
Besides, my fertility problems have never been a secret with my friends. I know that in the beginning, it was hard to keep telling people each month that we failed, but I think most know the unspoken etiquette of being an infertile’s friend by this point.
I’m feeling all sorts of things at this post – hopeful, tired, scared, and even a bit reluctant, but I think all of those things are pretty normal after what I’ve experienced.
So, this is just a quick update, but I’m sure I’ll have more to write about in the near future.
They say a near-death experience can change a person.
Not me, but my husband.
He has always been a little lukewarm about fertility treatment. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s an optimist and thinks we can get pregnant on our own or if there is a deeper psychological reason that he refuses to admit our infertility. It took awhile before he warmed to the idea of IUI, but IVF was too much for him. We went to counseling over it: he was scared that if I talked him into IVF that he would regret it, resent me, and it would end our relationship.
It was that point when I realized that I would have to start seriously considering the Childfree Life. Yeah, we could continue NTNP (Not trying, not preventing), but I understood the futility of that method given our past history. I stopped taking my folic acid and prenatals, started eating corn syrup, and made my private Childfree board public on Pinterest. The real deal, yo.
I knew that I’d have a happy ending, but it wasn’t going to end with children.
And then… January happened.
I was in the kitchen making breakfast smoothies, when DH came out (which shocked me, as it was six in the morning). He came over to me and told me that he had dream in which we had a daughter and he was sad to wake up from it.
“Really, asshole?” I thought. “Why are you telling me this?”
But before I could even shoot him a dirty look, he followed it up with ” I think we need to try to have another baby, and if that includes IVF, then we should do it.”
So, now that I’m over the initial shock, we have an appointment made for this Friday afternoon.
And don’t get me wrong, I’m elated and overjoyed and all the other happy emotions that you’d expect I’d feel, but there are some other, ickier feelings lurking below.
I think I’m in a really healthy place (relatively speaking) and I’m going to be fine with whatever outcome happens (babies, baby, or cats), but I am scared. I mean, DH has a rare chronic health condition. I’ve been through so much already, and there is no guarantee that this will end in happiness.
I have so much more to say about this, but I’m sick right now, so I’m thinking of just sipping some Nyquil and taking it easy the rest of the night.