Onward and Upward

We are moving forward. The trial transfer is done and all went fine. Apparently my ovaries look like my doctor (for whom I’m trying to think of a clever blog nickname) wants them to look. We had our RN consult and learned about our protocol and all this cycle will entail. They agreed to the meds I was hoping for so I will be able to use what I was given, which makes me happy and relieved. The balance of the meds has been ordered and will arrive on Friday. Lupron starts a week from today. Can we really be doing this? It has been a hypothetical for so long and I have lived vicariously through others who took the plunge before we did that it’s hard to believe it is finally our turn. At times I am excited, at others nervous, and still others in disbelief. It has been so long since we’ve cycled…hopefully we’ll find that groove again without too much trouble. I suppose what IVF newbie hasn’t envisioned screwing up the medication amounts or injection times and accidentally ruining her cycle? When they go through the protocol it seems so overwhelming and daunting. One shot at a time, I keep telling myself. For those of you who have been through this, any advice?

Experience (mine and others’) tells me not to assume that this cycle will be the magic bullet. As with anything that is being tried for the first time there is that rose colored glasses feeling of “this will certainly do the trick.” I can’t go there. I am not betting against success but I am also not counting any chickens…or eggs, as suits the metaphor in my case. When I do let my mind wander to “what if this works” territory, I can’t help but feel a little frightened. Seven years have passed since we first felt the desire to become parents. During that time the wounds we have suffered have scarred over and self-protection mode has kicked in. I have never been that infertile woman who still coos at babies. In fact I have been known on more than one occasion to decline an invitation to hold a friend’s baby. At my house the Pottery Barn Kids catalog is thrown in the recycling bin without a glance. I haven’t attended a baby shower since one of my nephews was in-utero. He turned four last August. On a daily basis I have made it my practice to deny any motherly longing or instinct to save myself any extra pain. My biological clock became the enemy so I ripped out its moving parts and made them into jewelry. If by some miracle IVF worked for us, would I be able to find my mommy chip again? I have to believe I can. As deeply as it is buried, it must still be there somewhere.

Random Thoughts

It has been a while since my last post. I have been in a state of self-induced stress over all the elements falling into place for this IVF cycle. There is the money element, which found us plaing beat-the-clock waiting for a check to arrive. There is the physical element which found me in an agonizing wait for my period to arrive. Last month I got it on the 14th. Now no one can set their watch by my cycles, but roughly I was expecting it to come by the 18th at the latest. My trial transfer is scheduled for the 23rd (tomorrow). I got my period yesterday. I have been told there is no need to reschedule and that we couldn't even if we wanted to because of timing issues and my RE's schedule. So the red witch and I have a date with the stirrups...how fun. At this point I shouldn't even let it bother me anymore but I'm still human - all infertility humiliation evidence to the contrary. Clearing those hurdles will bring us to Friday when we have our RN consult. I guess that will give us some insight into our protocol and which medications I will be on. I am praying that the leftover meds I received from a friend of a friend will fit my protocol. If not I may twist my RE's arm pretty hard to make them fit. I think I will feel better when the plan is in place and the meds are lined up on the counter. At least that's what I keep telling myself. Amazing how much there is to think about before a single injection has been taken. Must remember to breathe in and out and remain (more) calm than I have been so far.

I received discouraging news today from my friend who was to be cycling at the same time as us. Things did not work out for her to begin this cycle and it is up in the air as to whether she will be able to try IVF in the future. It is yet another case of scary inferility road blocks happening to good people. I got an update from another friend who recently had a failed, most likely final, IVF. They are taking a break to regroup and see what makes sense for them in the future. It is so not fair how this ugly beast can chew people up and spit them out over and over again. These are good, deserving, strong people and yet their dreams are still in limbo. I was once told that babies are not passed out according to merit. So very true.

Here is a link to a series of articles that is running in my local newspaper:

http://www.startribune.com/infertility/

Today's piece is on whether or not insurance companies should pay for IVF. I just hate the misuse of the word "implant" in articles dealing with IVF. I actually emailed the authors of this one to correct them. It also pains me to see or hear people who know nothing of infertility on a personal level weigh in on things like insurance coverage. Unless you have walked in these shoes, you have no idea how you would feel or what kind of decisions you would make to build your family. I appreciate it when infertility issues are written about and given some time out of the closet, but I dislike how it provides a forum for others to judge situations they can't understand. I guess we can't be lucky enough to have one without the other.

Those are my random thoughts for today.

Presumption Personified

Yesterday was a beautiful fall day in my part of the world. As a lover of this all-to-fleeting season, I never miss a chance to enjoy some time outside. The leaves are almost at peak and I know that fair weather isn't likely to last much longer. Yesterday also happened to be homecoming at husband's and my alma mater. Football is another reason I love autumn so it was a no brainer that we would go enjoy the day with old college classmates and friends. Of course I can't leave home without my IF baggage, no matter how hard I try to unchain it from myself. Unfortunately this particular afternoon, as it turned out, the vultures were hungry. To set the scene, it was your basic family bonanza. As usual, everyone had loaded up their SUVs and minivans with their offspring dressed in cute little university t-shirts and onesies. Hell, just like we probably would if we had any kids to bring. Many of these people we now see rarely, so the questions are wincingly inevitable. Yesterday, however, there was an extra level of presumption in the air. Within minutes of each other I was asked both "where are your kids?" and "how many kids do you have?" Having mentally prepared myself for the equally invasive but slightly less jarring "do you have kids?" I was caught off guard by these brave inquiries. My answer to the first question was: "my WHAT?", accompanied by a look that practically knocked the asker back a foot. I realized we weren't in Kansas anymore and the vultures in question were used to an atmosphere in which procreation wasn't a question of IF, but HOW MANY. Shortly after my trip through the gauntlet, dear husband found himself one among a circle of old college buddies whose conversation had turned to vasectomy talk. When he shook his head and attempted to extract himself from the group, he was ribbed by the guys about how it was most certainly in his future, too. Apparently my reality is your reality as far as they are concerned. Never mind that we are clearly living in an alternate universe. The postlogue to all of this is that we somehow managed not to let all of it sour our day - or at least not as much as it would have a few months ago. Instead I somehow managed to sustain a feeling that I was somehow more enlightened than they were...like possibly I have reached some sort of plane where I look at other people and don't assume or presume that we are all walking the same path or living the same reality. I didn't mind that our stripes didn't match theirs. I just could have done without them trying to paint some on us.