Gift of Life 5k and a Big Decision

This race has become one of my favorites. I happened upon it one year while training with a group for a 10k and have done it each year since then (for a total of 3 years so far). It supports a really great cause, has kick butt shirts (I’m a huge fan of any race that gives away long sleeved shirts), good food at the end and cool prizes if you happen to win something.

What it supports, though, is really the coolest part: organ and tissue donation. Many of the participants are those who have had an organ donated to them.

The lady to the right (and many others) participated in the run in dedication to a donor.  Hers says: my donors who gave me sight. My donors loving families.

Hers was one of many. Some were fortunate enough to be living donors, but most had suffered a tragedy, lost their lives, and donated their organs to someone who needed them.

The race itself has been hosted at James Island County Park for the last several years. Before we took off, a sabre line stood a woman who beautifully sang the National Anthem.

Before and after crowds of people gathered around to mingle and play cornhole.

It was not my finest race. I started out strong, but unfortunately mother nature decided it was time to interfere and bombarded me with cramps and a backache halfway through. At mile two I was at 14:37 but had a really slow third mile and my final time was 23:05. All things considered, though, and no thanks to my body and this particular time of the month, I did ok

Finish line?  Yes please!

After the race, a bagel and a change of clothes (thank goodness for the jeans I had in my car), they began the ceremony. Normally I’m more annoyed by this because I’m competitive and just want to know if  I won one of those nice medal over there. Because usually its just thanks everyone for coming blah de blah de blah. At this race though, two sets of families come up and tell their stories. One shared their experience donating the organs of their lost loved one and the other their experience of receiving an organ from someone else.

It was very touching.

And yes, I won a medal And a 20$ gift certificate to Dicks Sporting Goods! Woot!

I definitely plan to keep running that race in the future. How can you not?

Now, for those of you who I just KNOW have been waiting with bated breath regarding my IVF decision (HA):

My cycle started this morning, right on time, with quite a vengence. 1000mg of ibproufen in 6 hours and 2 hours under a heating pad was still rendering me in pain….and crabby. Bryan gave me a muscle relaxer which basically put me to sleep for 2 more hours and then I left go play a softball scrimmage all loopy.

That tidbit was more for amusement purposes than anything else.

I’ve decided to wait. Instead of starting the cycle now with a transfer in mid-April, we are going to start the cycle around the end of April with a transfer in mid-June. Miracle endo gets two cycles to prove his miracle drug worthy, but probably regardless of sperm count at that time no natural pregnancy = we are doing IVF. It’s two cycles. I’ll keep busy, run a few short races, play a season of softball and demand a weekend away using the timeshare. That and save money.

Although I want this more than anything, preferably YESTERDAY, I finally succumbed to the logic that waiting another couple of months isn’t going to prove to be detrimental, and keeping in mind that we will still go through with it in April should help keep my emotions at bay when my period inevitably shows up.

I am keeping my faith that this two month wait will be worth it. Remind me of that when, in two days (or two hours) I wonder what the hell I was thinking.

What Infertility Has Taught Me (So far….)

February marks one year since our first visit to the fertility clinic.

It’s been a heck of a year.

I was much angrier a year ago, taken aback by some pregnancy news I didn’t expect, solidifying (to me) that everyone else was going to get pregnant before I was. I walked around in an angry cloud for a few months, and then started this blog. Though I knew logically that this pregnancy had NOTHING to do with me, I still felt as if it was some kinda of karmic slap in the face.

Today, I feel frustrated. I feel discouraged. I think that’s par for the course sometimes, especially as my unwanted visitor draws nearer. But I feel much less anger. Less jealousy. A better understanding of all the emotions and the fact that they are completely normal. More faith.

What I haven’t gained any more of is patience.(Hey, you can’t have everything)

Infertility has taught me that feeling bipolar is completely normal, and that yes, it IS possible to feel one way and then 10 minutes later, feel the exact opposite. Our most recent bump in the road has taught me this: a few days ago I felt at peace with waiting out the IVF a bit longer, until yesterday when I  forgot ALL of the reasons I decided that and started to feel like there was no way in He.ll I was going to wait any longer.

Infertility has taught me that sometimes I can be a crappy friend, though it was never my intention.

Infertility has taught me that HOPE can be a blessing, but it can also be a four letter word. There is no other way to explain why, when month after month of nothing, we continue to think that maybe THIS month is it. And why, when we are disappointed yet again, we keep doing this to ourselves.

Infertility has taught me that most insurance companies suck.

Infertility has taught me that money becomes both much more and much less important. Important because we need it to have the chance to build our family. Less important because I wouldn’t normally gamble tens of thousands of dollars for a slightly more than 50% chance on anything. But for this I will. Because when it works the money won’t matter anymore.

Infertility has taught me that a sense of humor is imperative. Thought I mostly believed this already, it becomes especially true in this case. If you don’t have something to laugh at, it’s easy to get sucked into depression.

Where else but pinterest?

Infertility has taught me that relationships are fragile. It’s easy to get so lost in the hope for a baby that you start to inadvertently disregard the relationship that made you want to build a family in the first place. It’s also solidified that I’m with the right man. Through all of my nuttiness he has continually supported me and been there for me. I wouldn’t want to go through it with ANYONE else.

Infertility has taught me that most people have no idea what infertility really means, which sometimes causes comments that seem sympathetic to them but hurtful and silly to us.

Infertility has taught me that it is important to have an outlet. Maybe its a blog, a club, a hobby or a collection. Maybe it’s a job. A pet. A nap. Several failed cooking attempts. An obsession with a celebrity. SOMETHING to keep your mind occupied.

Infertility has taught me that I have a really fabulous group of friends.

Infertility has taught me that infertility SUCKS

Infertility has taught me to have faith.

Most importantly, infertility has taught me that you’re stronger than you think, and you can keep going. I believe some of the strongest and most resilient women come out of the infertility community. They are also some of the most supportive. I’ve seen this especially recently as people have suffered losses – the outpouring of love and support was overwhelming to me.

We are a strong group of women (and men), and we must never let ourselves forget that.

pinterest

Tidbits and February ICLW

It’s been interesting around here the last few days.

Bryan was making dinner on Sunday while I played Super Paper Mario on the Wii. We had nothing planned but a nice relaxing evening.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t in the cards.

Suddenly, I hear a “WHOOSH”, and flames are shooting out of the pan in the kitchen. I, not realizing its a grease fire, don’t honestly think much of it, figuring he’ll throw some water on it and it’ll be done. He, knowing it IS a grease fire, picks the pan up in attempt to avoid burning the house down and directs it towards the sink. Grease is shooting out of the pan. He throws the pan into the sink and I, still not knowing its a grease fire, turns the water on.

Oops.

It re-lit, but luckily there was a wet washcloth in the sink so I covered it with that and it went out no problem.

Bryan on the other hand, was not so lucky. The shooting grease had made a few direct hits to his face and arm, meaning a trip to the ER was in order.

I’m speeding to the VA hospital with my emergency blinkers on. I just KNOW I’m going to get pulled over, but Bryan assures me it is fine, the cop will just escort us to the hospital. We are ALMOST there and I get pulled over. The cop takes my license and offers to escort us. We get to the hospital and Bryan runs in. I meet up with the cop and he hands me back my license…..and a speeding ticket.

@$$hole.

Bryan is ok. Hurting, but ok. He has second degree burns on his cheek, lips and upper arm. He’s been hanging out at home on painkillers. So I apologize if I haven’t been commenting much recently…..which leads me to:

February ICLW

An update for those of you are are new stopping by: In January we had decided to move forward with an IVF next cycle with a hopeful transfer mid-April. Then, Bryan’s VA endocrinologist  decides to add another hormone shot, swearing this will help us get pregnant naturally (we have mild “female factor” and more severe “male factor” – only enough sperm at last count for IVF). After much thought and now with this recent incident, we are probably going to put the IVF off until late spring/early summer. His next SA is April 1.

Finally, though it’s been posted on numerous other blogs, I wanted to add my support to Mo, who, after suffering 3 miscarriages, made it to 23 weeks and her water broke. At last update they were inducing her, and things aren’t looking good. I was really only a lurker of her blog and not nearly as close to her as some others, but my heart absolutely aches for her. Please send her, her husband, and her baby thoughts and prayers.

I can’t even begin to imagine.

To anyone who has suffered a loss or situation like this……I wish there were something I could do or say.

Show me a Sign

I think we all look for signs.

That’s not what I meant (pinterest.com)

I think regardless of religious beliefs, when we are faced with a tough decision or a fork in the road, we look for signs on which direction to choose. Do I turn left, or right? Do I go back to school at 35 and change careers, or stay where I am? Do I buy a house or keep renting? Do I take job A or job B? At some point you prayed or otherwise asked the universe for a sign.

That’s not quite it either (pinterest.com)

A week has gone by since Bryan dropped his “my endo thinks this is going to work” bomb. This decision is proving more difficult to make than how to pay for the IVF, because at least the financial part could be figured out with a plan. Part of my brain screams why NOT try to see if you can save the money and get pregnant naturally? And part of my brain (the negative, though I like to refer to it as realistic) screams stick with the original plan because statistically your chances aren’t great and IVF gives you the best possible chance.

Sigh.

I’m not going to lie, I’m not typically a big pray-er (i.e. the act of praying, not to be confused with prayer), but my issues lately have been the opposite of concrete and logical (and impossible to solve with a spreadsheet) and more along the lines of flipping a coin or playing rock, paper, scissors. I’m having to do things like trust my instincts, have faith, and believe in things I can’t necessarily prove. (HA!) It’s messing with my usual order of things and it’s messing with my plans.

I mentioned this in my Valentines post briefly, so if you’ve read it already, sorry but you get to read it again (the option of skipping ahead is also feasible). Bryan cooked dinner for me and we had planned to eat outside on the patio and enjoy the nice weather. We don’t make a habit of praying at meals.  We talk about finding a church but continue to sleep in on Sunday mornings (well, he sleeps, I run). Our efforts have been lackluster. But for whatever reason Bryan starts praying before we eat. When he’s finished, I throw in my own “please help guide me in this decision” (he’s left it up to me). Bryan cheesily goes “send us a sign!”. I laugh at him, thinking I’m pretty sure that’s not the way it works. I get up to get salt and come back out. Not two seconds later, it starts to rain.

Ever since then I’ve been trying to figure out if that was some sort of sign. I’ve admittedly googled “rain and fertility” and “rain and signs from God” and have kind of fallen short. Some sites say rain is a sign of fertility. But I’m still not sure what that would mean in terms of our situation. Does that mean we are becoming fertile on our own? Or that IVF will increase fertility? Part of the problem with “signs” is that you can find ones for almost every situation and twist them to what you want them to mean. I’m trying to not do that. Heck, it simply could have meant “the earth is thirsty”, or “maybe you should drink more water”, or “you might want to go inside and eat instead”.

It could have meant nothing. Could be completely coincidental.

Truthfully, after the week has gone by I have the feeling more and more that I’m going to cave and agree to wait it out, with a time limit, and probably a relatively short one. A friend of mine asked me recently if I get a pang in my heart every time I see a pregnant woman.

I do.

That pang is what keeps me from making the commitment. Though logically I can explain to myself that it’s only for a couple more months and that it doesn’t mean IVF is off the table. Those extra couple months might actually put us in a better financial situation with hubby becoming self employed. And in fact, while doing the original research on the FSH, I found a study where it didn’t help sperm count, but DID result in a higher pregnancy rate for those pursuing IVF. Bryan’s next analysis on the FSH is scheduled for April 1 – about 6 weeks from now.

I have one more week to decide.

I still don’t know if that rain was a sign, but I think it was. I think it means something, I’m just not sure what. If I think about it, I remember connecting rain to fertility. And I found some evidence of the belief that rain is a sign of fertility. Maybe not on our own. Maybe the FSH will merely assist in the success of the IVF at a later date. I guess in a time of needing to trust my instincts, instead of researching and analyzing, I should go with my first feeling in response to the rain:

Rain is a sign of fertility. I feel like I’m being told to wait.

I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me sad. At first, it broke my heart a little. I was starting to see pregnant women and NOT feel the pang, knowing we would be en route soon. Since this latest issue, it’s returned.

The logic part of me is screaming at me right now. The part that knows the statistics and the studies. The part that thinks about the 65% chance vs who knows what chance. I’m testing my read of my own instincts here, because logic won’t work. I suppose that in the grand scheme of things, evidence for or against that doesn’t matter. Googling for hours isn’t going to answer my questions of what the rain means. Researching IVF success rates isn’t going to make it work.

What matters is what the rain means to me.

I still have a week left, but I think I know what I’m going to decide.

I will probably keep looking out for signs

P1nt3r35t.com 

Slave for a (half) Day

In an attempt to save money, hubby and I agreed to keep this Valentine’s Day cheap.

I came home from work tonight to a box of chocolates (YUM), flowers, a bottle of wine, dinner cooked, and a clean house. (love – and all fairly inexpensive) One thing I love about Bryan is his willingness and ability to clean. Well, except for one thing:

This is how he puts the silverware away

I guess you can’t have everything.

We started to have dinner outside. We prayed. We said thank you for the food and our time together. And while I’ve been mulling and praying about it silently for the last several days, at the end I threw in some guidance to decide what our next step should be. Bryan asked for a sign. Almost immediately, it started to rain. Weird. Except I have NO idea what that might represent – other than rain.

Anyway, back to the gift:

Bryan loves to  play this game with me that I HATE. He makes stupid bets with me (I bet the mail is out there right now) and whoever loses owes the other x number of minutes of “slavery”.

The concept is cute. I hate it mostly because I hate to lose. And because I’m not always a very good sport when he cashes his time in.

So this year I made 4 “tickets”, each representing one hour of slavery and each with 4 hearts representing 15 minutes.

He wasted no time telling me I was not allowed to complain when he decided to use one.

Barely 5 minutes after I gave them to him, he went into the living room and started to make a list.

Oh boy.

Sorry the picture is kinda cruddy. It says 15 minutes brush Chance and give him a pill, 15 minutes trim the plant, 30 minutes shampoo upstairs carpet. Not bad, could be much worse, but there are still 3 hours left.

During dinner I can see the wheels in his head turning. At one point he asked “if you’re mad at me for something, am I allowed to use 15 minutes to send you to the corner?”

Perhaps I should have included rules.

All in all though Bryan loved it, and it didn’t cost me anything.

Except maybe some future dignity.

Sometimes Ignorance is Bliss

I thought I had it all figured out.

It took me months to really wrap my head around the IVF and accept the fact that the next large chunk of money was going to be put towards this. Not new floors. Not a vacation. Not to paying off my car.

It took me a couple of weeks to finally decide that I wanted to go for the multi-cycle plan, just in case. I made phone calls about financing. I talked it over with Bryan. A few days ago, I paid off the balance on my credit card so I could use it to pay for the cycles. (Amongst all options, it turns out this was the best one)

I felt better. Not wonderful, but better. Still nervous but mostly ready.

Then Bryan comes home from his appointment with the endocrinologist at the VA.

For those of you who didn’t know, he has been taking HCG shots 3x per week in attempt to stimulate sperm growth from the 0 sperm count he had several months ago. At this point, he’s hovering between 6-9 million. Not enough for natural conception or an IUI, but plenty for an IVF. What we don’t know is if the HCG actually helped produce the sperm, or if it was the result of natural recovery.

First, the endocrinologist apparently asked Bryan if I was pregnant yet. With 6 million sperm? Hardly. He wants to add FSH shots to the mix, supposedly to skyrocket his sperm count to within fertile limits (HAHA, I write WFL to mean within functional limits on my kiddo’s evaluations, but this one makes WFL mean something totally different). Bryan hands me this study when I got home a couple of days ago on the effectiveness of FSH on sperm growth and ability to conceive, claiming the endo told him we could reasonably expect to be pregnant “by April or May”.

He expected me to be excited, but mostly I just felt overwhelmed. I had a plan in place. I was starting the countdown to the start of my next cycle and day one of the process. I would be excited if I KNEW it would work, its never that simple:

1. In this study, the median time it took to conceive was 2.3 years. Bryan claims his endo believes that he is at the same place as these men were at the 2 year mark. I am not sure what the basis is for this – except I guess that he has some sperm now.
2. This type of treatment is only effective if Bryan was fertile before he started the shots. We don’t know if he was because he never had an SA prior to starting testosterone way back when, and have no way of knowing at this point.
3. In this study, only 50% were pregnant at the 10 month point. Maybe it could work but I don’t have the patience for 10+ months anymore.  Plus that’s only 50%.
4. His hormone levels are currently normal. The RE told us that with hormone levels that are normal, adding more of the same hormone probably won’t make a big difference. However, his levels WERE low before.
5. Our issues are not 100% male factor. With PCOS, albeit mild, and a blocked tube, there are my issues to consider also.
6. It appears that the best response to sperm production was in the 2^nd cycle of treatment. If I read correctly, one cycle = 6 months. So while the endo thinks we are a mere couple months away, statistics seem to show a longer period.

The thing that sticks in my head more than anything is, when Bryan told the endo I wanted to pursue IVF, his response was “that’s stupid”.

I’m glad I wasn’t there, because I would have wanted to poke him in the eye.

Truthfully, I have so far put much more weight on the words of the RE. However, Bryan had a point I couldn’t totally refute: why hadn’t he put me on the metformin earlier, and not just right before we had planned to pursue an IVF? He does get paid to do these procedures. I’m not saying I no longer trust my RE, but it was something to think about.

Now, 2 weeks before we are set to start, I am back to square one. While Bryan has said he will do whatever I want to do (which makes him wonderful but also no help at all), I know he would prefer to give the FSH a couple of months. His endo seems convinced we are a mere few months away from achieving pregnancy on our own. I am skeptical. But it now feels almost financially irresponsible to not give it a shot. Logically, I understand that waiting a couple more months wouldn’t be a big deal. I’m young enough, and plenty of people don’t even start trying till they are over 30. Emotionally, I’m not there. Emotionally, I am still waiting for the IVF.

I keep looking for signs or something on what to decide. I remember once feeling confident we would eventually conceive naturally. I keep wondering what if the endo is right? What if my original confidence was really right? I keep thinking about the period of time when I somewhat crazily paid 3 online baby psychics to tell me when I would get pregnant. One of them said April, and said she noticed no issues with Bryan, which to me implies a natural pregnancy. I can’t help but think, if we waited, could that be true? I found myself dreaming of vacations and new floors again.

I don’t want to fail to mention that I paid two others (yes, I know, don’t say it) who both predicted this past July, and were obviously both wrong.

Seriously? I’m partially basing a life decision on a woman to whom I paid $12 to make a prediction based on a picture because it might be some sort of sign??

Just institutionalize me now.

Pic Credit

Sometimes I think waiting it out a bit longer isn’t a big deal. But then I see a baby or someones pictures of their newborn and then it feels like much longer. On the other hand, when we discussed IVF at Christmas, the start of the process felt like an eternity away, and the time flew.

Sigh. I think I’ll go for a run now.

An Ode to Mush Brain

Today, while working with one of my kiddo’s, I asked him to name as many animals as he could think of.

Kid: tiger……elephant…….worm…..

Me: A worm is not an elephant

And 5…4…3…2….

I mean, a worm is not an animal.

Yeah.

I’m thankful for the Speech Conference next week. Usually after a few weeks with no long weekends, I start to feel kinda restless and burnt out and feel like I need a refresher so to speak, but since I’m saving my PTO for the IVF, I don’t really have any extra days to take. Unfortunately, the stress surrounding this whole IVF mess isn’t helping, thus leading me to what I am affectionately calling “mush brain”.

After I had finished working with above kiddo, I took him out to talk to his mom and discuss his progress for the day. I started with “he did well today, we worked on…..”

And I drew a complete blank.

pinterest, you are my favorite

Luckily this child was not a first-timer, because I probably would have scared them away to a Speech Therapist with a better functioning memory.

On the way home, I may or may not have driven a couple miles with my left turn signal on. (What? I was going to turn left eventually). I honestly am not sure at what point in the drive it was switched on, I just noticed it at a stop light. Where I was waiting to go straight. Also, I have totally made fun of my mother for that exact same thing, commenting that the car needed a “hey you left your signal on, stupid” buzzing noise.
Thank goodness there are no plans in the near future to leave me home alone where I might leave the oven on. (I don’t iron, so that won’t happen either)

You know how computers or MP3 players will display “memory full”? when you try to add that one extra file or song and there isn’t enough room? That is how my brain feels right now.

This is your brain.

This is your brain on mush.

as always, thank you pinterest

An Ode to Mush Brain

I’m staring into space

For an insane amount of time

Because I just can’t seem to think

Of any words that rhyme

I’ll turn my signal on right now

While my hand is free

I’m not gonna turn for awhile

But I’ll do it eventually

Having pizza tonight for dinner

In its circular baking tin

Yay! The timer’s beeping

But I forgot to put it IN (that’s what she said)

(yes, that actually just happened….and no, I did NOT do it on purpose)

Mama Said There’d Be Days Like This

I’ve gotten many comments recently about my positivity (is that a word? It is now) and frame of mind regarding this IVF.

I feel like a bit of a fake, because I’m not always that positive. In fact, things have taken a bit of an unanticipated dip in the emotions department. Initially, when we decided to go through with the IVF, I felt better, more at peace, and even a little excited to be pursuing what is going to be our best chance at achieving pregnancy. I didn’t anticipate what a pain in the @$$ it would be to not only pay for the procedure, but try to decide which method would be best. And I didn’t anticipate this sudden, somewhat paralyzing fear of it failing.

And by failing, I mean more heartache.

I’ve read lots of blogs over the last few months. There is so much heartache in infertility, and not just in the inability to get pregnant, but the procedures, the ups and downs while waiting to find out if it worked, finding out it didn’t work, and worst of all, finding out it DID work, only to miscarry later. That is the heartache I fear the most. And I’m not going to lie, knowing that I have to pay over the next several years for these procedures, whether they work or not, doesn’t help much. Like a constant reminder of what didn’t happen.

I have seen and heard about one too many (all are too many) losses or complications in the last several weeks, and it’s been messing with my head. While I still 100% think that not trying would ultimately be more costly than trying, I really didn’t anticipate all this fear going into it. I know when all is said and done that it’s just money. But I feel like I’m handing a little bit of my heart over with the credit card, leaving it in the hands of fertility doctors, nurses, financial advisors, and God. I’m hoping that this is like the walls I hit while training for a marathon, where I push through it even thought I don’t want to, because I know that it won’t last forever and will be worth it in the end.

Please let it be worth it in the end.

I Run as Fast as a……(5k)

A couple of days ago I was working on figurative language with one of my kiddos. In trying to explain the concept, I gave him an example to fill in the blank, to see if he understood.

I run as fast as a ……”barefooted jackrabbit running through the desert!”

Maybe he DOES get it.

I ran my first post marathon race today – the first annual Ashley Ridge Foxtrot 5k, chosen mostly because of its’ proximity to my house. I talked running buddy Lynnsey into running this one with me.

we are awesome

I was more excited to learn that not only did I get a card for a free chick fil a chicken sandwich in my race packet, but that we also got a free chicken biscuit after the race. *drool*AND, the chick fil a cow was there. (yes, I love chick fil a)

The race itself was ok. It was three laps around the high school, part of it off road and I found it a bit hard to keep my footing. For the first race it was decently organized, and while I wasn’t super thrilled with the lap idea, the chicken biscuit made it totally worth it.

this is why we run

And of course, we had to get a picture with the cow

I am a cool kid

I am a cool kid too

We are in our late twenties going on ten.

The winner of the race was TWELVE, finishing in 18 minutes and 29 seconds.

I think he’s the jackrabbit.

I’m not complaining though. I haven’t hit my goal mark yet, but I was the third female to finish, won first in my age group, and PR’d at 22:11ish. Plus I won a free burrito at Moe’s during the raffle.

Run+friend+chickfila+PR+medal+future free Moe’s burrito + WIN.

I may not be a jackrabbit, but I get a medal!

Up next: Gift of Life 5k on February 25