We started shots again yesterday, 5/23. We are on short protocol Ganirelix, and when this cycle starts about 5 days later I'll start my intramuscular shots again. This time I have both Estrogen and Progesterone. The tentative schedule is the transfer will be around June 15th, with the beta test 10 days later. I do have a lot more to say, but not enough time to say it in. I think this entire process is just wearing on me - I'm sick of needles!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Bad Day Turned Great
Today started out slightly miserably. I decided to check Aetna and see if my medication for our next round of FET IVF (Frozen Embryo Transfer) had posted yet. It had. I expected it to be less than previous, because I needed no stimulants with this being a frozen cycle. It was slightly less, but not much. It was over double what I had been expecting! After that initial shock, I then noticed the Estrogen Injection. Last time I was able to take a pill, but I am guessing due to the failure of the first IVF they have decided to up the ante. So then I just lost it - I was emotionally terrified of doing this second round, now it was more injections with lots more money. Something has to give!
I started looking closer and didn't see any location where the prescriptions were coming out of my flexible spending so I called Aetna. I apparently have an out-of-pocket max on RX each year at $1000. I have apparently met it, so all my prescriptions for the rest of the year are covered at 100%!! So all of these fertility meds are free instead of 1200!! Also with my plan, there is no cap on fertility drug coverage, and there usually is. So instead of this round of FET costing around 1000+ it will be around 500 max! How fantastic is that? It just released some of the worry over the success of this next round. If it fails again, it will be much easier to turn around, hold my head up and try again.
Great day!!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
An Article That Needs Reading
I found this recently during a bad day. I've been thinking a break will make things better, but they seem to get worse. Things just don't want to heal. I think this is worth reading for anyone who even knows anyone dealing with infertility.
Infertility: I Wish Someone Would Have Told Me
By Ryan Jacobson, Contributing Writer
Five years into our marriage and still no children. We had tried it all -- test after test, doctor after doctor, procedure after procedure. Every "specialist" to whom we were referred claimed to have the solution, yet nothing worked. No one knew what was wrong with us physically. Worse still, no one knew what was wrong with us emotionally -- not even we did.
A Death In The Family
Grief is the most selfish of all emotions, and infertility is grief -- a grief that no one else quite understands. In fact, most people don't have a clue.
When you are suffering through infertility, every day that you awaken NOT PREGNANT opens a new wound. It's another death in the family. Yes, the pain can be that significant. Every minute of every day is spent mourning the loss of a child -- your child.
They say that time heals all wounds, but not this one. Time is your enemy. Every day is another funeral, another failure.
At least, that's how my wife and I felt.
I Am Alone
If you've ever experienced the loss of a loved one, you might have a frame of reference for what I am describing. That's not to belittle the grief associated with death, nor is it to say that the feelings are one and the same. They aren't. But they do share the emotional exhaustion, the intensity of pain and the complete isolation. You are alone and helpless. Even your spouse, your partner, your love, your rock --they are absent; they cannot be there because their daily heartbreak isolates them, too.
Infertility is death, but with this tragedy there is no funeral. There is no gathering of friends and family. There is no closure. And as so often is the case, when you need your support system most, you haven't the strength to ask for help. No one will take care of you because they do not know they are needed.
You break all ties, further isolating yourself. You can't go out because -- heaven forbid -- you may see someone pregnant or with a young child. You start skipping birthday parties. Family reunions are out of the question because Cousin Martha has a baby on the way. Getting together "just to hang out" is no fun because they don't understand. (And who wants to be with a bunch of happy people anyway?) If you're religious, you might even start asking yourself, "Can I love a God who will not give me a child?"
You're left without the energy or the will to so much as dial a telephone. Your loved ones begin to wonder, "What's their problem?" Soon you become a punch line. "What do you think their excuse will be this time?" And then you realize that your support system is gone. Now, even if you mustered the courage to reach out, to ask for help, there would be no one left to answer.
What Should I Do?
I decided to write about infertility because you need to know. If you are struggling with infertility issues, recognize your grief. Acknowledge it. Then send this page to everyone you know. That's all you have to do for now. Your loved ones will take care of the rest.
How Can I Help Someone I Love?
If you know someone who is having difficulty starting a family, understand that they need you. I can't tell you what they need, except to know that you are there for them unconditionally. Your relationship will likely be a little bumpy for a while. Heck, it might be a lot bumpy. You must take it upon yourself to single-handedly keep the relationship alive. Touch base often, and make time to hang out (even if you have to drag them, kicking and screaming the whole way). If you have kids, leave them at home -- your joy is their heartbreak. And realize that quality, one-on-one time is far better than big, blowout parties.
Resist that natural human tendency to "keep score." It doesn't matter if you've called them 10 times in row and they haven't reciprocated. They probably don't have the strength. Like I mentioned before, you're entering a stretch of time in which you may have to do all of the work. Hopefully, the day will never come when it's their turn to do the same. But if it does, you can bet they'll be there for you.
At least once a week, you also need to ask specifically about their infertility and how things are going. I know: "Infertility" is a scary word to vocalize, but do it anyway. Maybe they won't want to talk about it. Respect that. But maybe they need to vent. Listen and be supportive; that alone will go a long way.
Finally, I want to encourage you to be persistent. This isn't a grief that gets easier with time. It gets harder. The longer they go through this, the more painful it will become and the more they will need you....
Infertility: I Wish Someone Would Have Told Me
By Ryan Jacobson, Contributing Writer
Five years into our marriage and still no children. We had tried it all -- test after test, doctor after doctor, procedure after procedure. Every "specialist" to whom we were referred claimed to have the solution, yet nothing worked. No one knew what was wrong with us physically. Worse still, no one knew what was wrong with us emotionally -- not even we did.
A Death In The Family
Grief is the most selfish of all emotions, and infertility is grief -- a grief that no one else quite understands. In fact, most people don't have a clue.
When you are suffering through infertility, every day that you awaken NOT PREGNANT opens a new wound. It's another death in the family. Yes, the pain can be that significant. Every minute of every day is spent mourning the loss of a child -- your child.
They say that time heals all wounds, but not this one. Time is your enemy. Every day is another funeral, another failure.
At least, that's how my wife and I felt.
I Am Alone
If you've ever experienced the loss of a loved one, you might have a frame of reference for what I am describing. That's not to belittle the grief associated with death, nor is it to say that the feelings are one and the same. They aren't. But they do share the emotional exhaustion, the intensity of pain and the complete isolation. You are alone and helpless. Even your spouse, your partner, your love, your rock --they are absent; they cannot be there because their daily heartbreak isolates them, too.
Infertility is death, but with this tragedy there is no funeral. There is no gathering of friends and family. There is no closure. And as so often is the case, when you need your support system most, you haven't the strength to ask for help. No one will take care of you because they do not know they are needed.
You break all ties, further isolating yourself. You can't go out because -- heaven forbid -- you may see someone pregnant or with a young child. You start skipping birthday parties. Family reunions are out of the question because Cousin Martha has a baby on the way. Getting together "just to hang out" is no fun because they don't understand. (And who wants to be with a bunch of happy people anyway?) If you're religious, you might even start asking yourself, "Can I love a God who will not give me a child?"
You're left without the energy or the will to so much as dial a telephone. Your loved ones begin to wonder, "What's their problem?" Soon you become a punch line. "What do you think their excuse will be this time?" And then you realize that your support system is gone. Now, even if you mustered the courage to reach out, to ask for help, there would be no one left to answer.
What Should I Do?
I decided to write about infertility because you need to know. If you are struggling with infertility issues, recognize your grief. Acknowledge it. Then send this page to everyone you know. That's all you have to do for now. Your loved ones will take care of the rest.
How Can I Help Someone I Love?
If you know someone who is having difficulty starting a family, understand that they need you. I can't tell you what they need, except to know that you are there for them unconditionally. Your relationship will likely be a little bumpy for a while. Heck, it might be a lot bumpy. You must take it upon yourself to single-handedly keep the relationship alive. Touch base often, and make time to hang out (even if you have to drag them, kicking and screaming the whole way). If you have kids, leave them at home -- your joy is their heartbreak. And realize that quality, one-on-one time is far better than big, blowout parties.
Resist that natural human tendency to "keep score." It doesn't matter if you've called them 10 times in row and they haven't reciprocated. They probably don't have the strength. Like I mentioned before, you're entering a stretch of time in which you may have to do all of the work. Hopefully, the day will never come when it's their turn to do the same. But if it does, you can bet they'll be there for you.
At least once a week, you also need to ask specifically about their infertility and how things are going. I know: "Infertility" is a scary word to vocalize, but do it anyway. Maybe they won't want to talk about it. Respect that. But maybe they need to vent. Listen and be supportive; that alone will go a long way.
Finally, I want to encourage you to be persistent. This isn't a grief that gets easier with time. It gets harder. The longer they go through this, the more painful it will become and the more they will need you....
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
Why We Share
"Why or why not do you choose to share your infertility struggles with others?"
I've been meaning to write about this topic for a while. It seems to be an insignificant aside to infertility as a whole, but when one phone call can make your life hit a brick wall, it is a huge decision. Infertility is a very emotional, invasive, and private matter. Lots of people choose to deal with it alone as a couple, deal with it with a close group of people, or like me, share it with anyone interested. I thought I would share my reasons for writing this blog in order to help any others who may one day be where we are.
1. Prayer. Pure and simple. We believe in the power of prayer, and we have seen it work in our live and others. We have seen God do what we thought was impossible. Our entire relationship has been God driven - from Randy's activation, to my getting a job in Baton Rouge and Randy transferring to LSU. I've written a previous post when Randy graduated that highlighted all those blessings (May 2009, Moving Mountains.) The more people who are praying for us, the better.
2. Understanding. I am normally a very open person with anything that is going on, so I don't hide emotions well. When I am upset, everyone and their mother can tell. I knew this journey would be no different, actually much worse. I have isolated myself from friends at times because it was the only way to keep myself together at the seams. If my friends didn't know, they would not have understood and could have taken as a slight. By telling them, they were able to help me when I needed it, and grant me understanding when I needed that. By knowing, people understand when I avoid baby showers or events that will only intensify my pain.
3. Prevention. The worst feeling in the beginning was when people didn't know. We had been trying for a year before we knew anything was wrong, and comments like "When are you going to have kids?" "You're not getting any younger" "God made marriage for children, so you shouldn't wait" hurt then. And yes, that last one was a sermon from our pastor one day. I was ready to storm the stage, but his 6'4" football player frame still scared me away. People didn't know we were trying, so when I started to worry if something was wrong, those comments hurt. They are more torturous now, but much less in number. By sharing with most people I know, they avoid small talk comments that to most sound innocent, but to someone in our situation will rip your heart out.
4. Witnessing. I started the blog to keep family and friends up to date. Also it was a way for me to vent feelings and chronicle the journey. I have heard from a few people that are starting the same journey that it has been helpful and great for them to read. And even just an encouragement for others. I never intended, or even thought of it that way, but it is encouraging to know it has been helpful. I can be a witness/support to others experiencing the pain and heartbreak that can only be understood by a mom without a child.
I am not saying that this is the way to go for everyone. I've always been an open book, so it was natural for me. I wanted to give my reasons for sharing my journey for anyone that has ever wondered why… or may even be struggling with this question themselves.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Bitterness of Soul
"In bitterness of soul, Hannah wept much and prayed to the Lord." 1 Samuel 1:10
"As month after month, then year after year, passed without the blessing of a living child in our home, my soul learned the foul taste of bitterness. My angry, festering heart ached constantly. That Hannah "wept much" seems to be a terribly inadequate description for the torrent of tears that accompanied me through years of longing and loss." - Jennifer Saake, Hannah's Hope
Unfortunately bitterness is an emotion that always parallels infertility trials. Months and years of trying to conceive accompanied by the emotional roller coaster of hopes rising only to be crushed. Procedures get more expensive, more invasive, more painful. For others, adoption failures also gather in emotional and financial expense. Yet all around us, there are reminders of what we don't have. Families and motherhood are such a normal, inescapable part of life, you don't realize the constant burn of these daily reminders until you've dealt with infertility. The worst is that I long to be normal. To celebrate pregnancies and births with people I care about. But their joy only deepens my pain. It then further causes me to distance myself from those that I need the most.
Then you can add the normal events of life to the feeling of "why me?" I fight the daily bitter anger toward people I feel don't deserve the blessing of motherhood. The relative who is unmarried and a drug addict. The teenager that doesn't want an inconvienince, so she aborts her child. These seemingly unfair situations cause pain so deep I've cried out resentfully to God in my anger.
How do I deal with this bitterness? I need to turn it over to God. And I am trying, but it is a daily struggle. I've been thinking of the blessings I've been given, and trying to see lives from others' shoes. The women who don't have the love of someone like Randy, that don't know Christ - maybe God is using children to bring them to Him. Maybe the child will be the blessing that turns their lives around. We all have these feelings of anger sometimes. I just feel I need help in trying to overcome it. I need the help of you - my friends and family who care about me and are reading this blog. I don't want this pain to rule my life. I don't think it will heal completely anytime soon, but with God's help - and the help of you - I want to learn to manage it. I think this pain will always be part of me, but it's not going to define me.
"As month after month, then year after year, passed without the blessing of a living child in our home, my soul learned the foul taste of bitterness. My angry, festering heart ached constantly. That Hannah "wept much" seems to be a terribly inadequate description for the torrent of tears that accompanied me through years of longing and loss." - Jennifer Saake, Hannah's Hope
Unfortunately bitterness is an emotion that always parallels infertility trials. Months and years of trying to conceive accompanied by the emotional roller coaster of hopes rising only to be crushed. Procedures get more expensive, more invasive, more painful. For others, adoption failures also gather in emotional and financial expense. Yet all around us, there are reminders of what we don't have. Families and motherhood are such a normal, inescapable part of life, you don't realize the constant burn of these daily reminders until you've dealt with infertility. The worst is that I long to be normal. To celebrate pregnancies and births with people I care about. But their joy only deepens my pain. It then further causes me to distance myself from those that I need the most.
Then you can add the normal events of life to the feeling of "why me?" I fight the daily bitter anger toward people I feel don't deserve the blessing of motherhood. The relative who is unmarried and a drug addict. The teenager that doesn't want an inconvienince, so she aborts her child. These seemingly unfair situations cause pain so deep I've cried out resentfully to God in my anger.
How do I deal with this bitterness? I need to turn it over to God. And I am trying, but it is a daily struggle. I've been thinking of the blessings I've been given, and trying to see lives from others' shoes. The women who don't have the love of someone like Randy, that don't know Christ - maybe God is using children to bring them to Him. Maybe the child will be the blessing that turns their lives around. We all have these feelings of anger sometimes. I just feel I need help in trying to overcome it. I need the help of you - my friends and family who care about me and are reading this blog. I don't want this pain to rule my life. I don't think it will heal completely anytime soon, but with God's help - and the help of you - I want to learn to manage it. I think this pain will always be part of me, but it's not going to define me.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Follow Up Appointment
I went in for our follow up appointment today. I managed to not cry at all, so I think it was a huge success! When Dr. Dunaway first walked in, he was shaking his head saying he had no reason, no excuse. Everything went beyond textbook. He even told me that of the entire IVF group in that cycle, he expected me to be the one pregnant with twins, and I ended up being the only one not pregnant. I know he didn't mean it bad, it was just true, but it was just another blow to my ego. More like, what in the world is wrong with me then? Even with perfect appearing embryos, they can still be genetically unviable. So they probably just picked the 2 that weren't right. The other doctors and even the embryologist had no idea what happened. Even having 12 grade 4 embryos to freeze is way above average and not normal at all. So we have no idea. We just hope there isn't something else wrong with me that hasn't been found yet.
So maybe May, more likely June, we'll try again. More shots, but not near as many. And the costs will be significantly less. So hopefully the spring will go well, and we will be optimistic and ready to go again in June. He even told us to be just as optimistic for the frozen transfer as the fresh, because we will get pregnant. I'm not going to lie, optimism during that 2 week wait is just about impossible. You have nothing to think about but "did it work?" I keep telling myself it's in God's hands and there are reasons for everything - but you reach the point where it is only hollow words. I am trying to keep my faith, but it's shattered at the moment. And it's still raining so hard I can no longer hear Him through this storm.
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