Freaky Friday (and Being Kind to Myself)

I have not been super consistent with this plan to participate in Kindness Friday, and even though I’m naturally a couple days late I’m taking the better late than never approach.

In being so focused on reaching each milestone in this pregnancy, I seem to have forgotten to acknowledge something.

We are officially in the home stretch.

As in, we will have babies in 23 days or less.

I had planned to try to continue working full time until the end of April, however the physical stress of carrying 10lbs (or what I assume is 10lbs at this point) of baby  began to take a toll on my back and I was forced to stop a week early. Once I hit a point where I needed to leave work early twice in one week I knew it was time to stop. At my appt on Thursday I requested a doc note allowing me to begin maternity leave. Thankfully it was granted without an issue. I probably technically could have stopped that day but the OCD in me wanted to finish out an entire week and end on a Friday. (Plus I only work  a half day on Friday anyway)

Bryan pointed out that I seemed a bit crabby Friday morning and while I hadn’t felt particularly different, it was in the car on the way to work that I mentally acknowledged he may be right. The decision to stop working had been made somewhat short notice and suddenly it hit me that I was on my way to work for the last time. Well, I’m going back part time after the babies are here, so not the last time forever, but suddenly it hit me that shit.is.about.to.change.

Bryan and I have a brief conversation daily about that, usually consisting of me saying we are going to have two babies soon and commenting on how challenging its going to be, Bryan responding “piece of cake” and my asking if he really has any idea what we are in for. He laughs, swears he does, and then we move on.

Friday, though, it really hit me. My usual work routine? Done. Really everything about usual is beginning to turn into a different usual, and even though this is what we had fought for for three long years, I’ll admit that for just a few moments I started to panic – mostly about  my abilities to care for TWO babies simultaneously. In those moments I was not very kind to myself.

I understand that its natural to go through periods where one questions her ability to be a good mother. I had just been fairly confident about it (while admitting to myself that it was indeed going to be difficult and I would likely have periods where I felt like a failure) up until then. It has taken quite a few moments of refocusing in the last few days to not allow myself to fall into a tailspin of “WTF am I doing I have no idea what I’m doing what the hell was I thinking?” I’m using this blog post to serve as a reminder:

Motherhood is going to be hard.

But I can do it.

One day at a time. I worked as a nanny for a time. I work with kids. I can and will figure this out. I am absolutely capable of caring for two babies, and believe, at least in this case that if I couldn’t handle it, I wouldn’t have been blessed with two. Do I have any idea what I’m doing? A little, but not much. But who does?

I can do this.

And on the plus side, being home from work gives me time to brainstorm a post or two for National Infertility Awareness Week.

Also, if you are here from ICLW, welcome! We are currently expecting twins after IVF and 3 years of infertility sometime in the next 23 days. Feel free to visit the pages on our IVF cycle, or even pregnancy pics if you’re feeling up to it. There is also a page on our infertility history.

Time [for] Change

(my apologies if this is a bit jumpy)

I purposely went to bed late last night, but was up at 630 this morning anyway, my body thinking it was 730. Damn body clock.

I don’t sleep the same that I used to. That has changed. I used to be one who could fall asleep practically once I hit the pillow, and even though I’d tend to wake up a few times in the middle of the night, could always go right back to sleep. Now, it takes me 30-45 minutes to fall asleep and I’m finding it harder to fall back to sleep once I’ve had my 1st, 2nd or even 3rd bathroom break. Strangely so far it has not made me useless during the day, but is super frustrating at the time.

Last night I was restless, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. And not because of my stomach or any physical reason (that I could tell – it’s still a bit early for that I think), I simply could not get my body to calm down and rest. My mind jumping from one thing to another and my body responding in turn.

There are lots of big changes coming.

I am excited, but admittedly also scared. Sometimes, caught up in my anxieties -my mind wonders how these changes will affect me, our relationship, us as people. We are getting closer to the end of the first trimester, but not out of the woods yet. I wonder and worry about sleep, money, and whether we will be good parents. Whether we will have to deal with health problems having twins. How we will fare as a couple. I think that this is all normal, and deep down in my heart of hearts I know we will be fine.

I am happy and grateful to be here – we waited a long time and went through much heartache to get here. It is just that even the best things come with their own changes and anxieties. Sometimes I forget to take this one day at a time, to enjoy one day at at time, to worry about one day at a time. I get caught up in my own head. It makes me restless. People talk about the emotional ups and downs during pregnancy and I think mine manifests more as anxiety.

It is useless worry. Worry will not change anything, except perhaps for my mood. I seem to write about worry often, and it is worse with my Type A “want to be able to control everything” personality. Bryan and I had a conversation on Friday about essentially this same thing. The kicker is I know so many that would kill to worry about this rather than their own infertility. The irony is not lost on me.

I finally gave up going back to sleep (it is really 730 after all ) and came downstairs for some breakfast (there is no waiting to eat for me nowadays!). I sat at my computer with my cereal still a little restless. And probably not coincidentally, I thought of the serenity prayer – a little piece of wisdom that makes a lot of sense.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

An Ode to Rollercoasters (metaphorically speaking)

The roller coaster ride does not end when you find out you are pregnant.

The last few weeks (and probably still for the next upcoming few) have been a mix of emotions including (this list is not all inclusive) joy, anxiety, worry, peace, happiness, fear, panic. Not to mention that I feel a little between two worlds with this blog right now – hovering between the realms of infertility and pregnancy. My intention has always been to keep writing about the journey no matter where it took us, pregnancy included. I just haven’t quite figured out how to do it – how to share the pregnancy journey while staying sensitive to those still battling. I’ve started to read blogs and be completely at a loss for words as to how to comment because I simply do not feel like I truly belong in either category.

At times I find myself thinking about a future baby shower, a growing belly (which, by the way, is already pooch-y), feeling the first kicks. Then I begin to panic when I wonder if we are equipped mentally and financially for TWO babies. (must.buy.two.of.everything! must.save.all.the.money!). Then I tell myself to stop getting too far ahead when we could still lose one…or both, and then I begin to picture the worst case scenario. It’s exhausting. Sometimes I am thankful for mild symptoms because it allows me to put it out of my head for bit when I’m making myself crazy (other than the constant eating and trips to the bathroom, anyway).  But other times it makes me worry something is wrong. And I think about blogging but stop myself because I don’t want it to sound like I’m complaining. Or that I am not thrilled. I am not trying to complain. I AM thrilled.This is just the way it is.

ADD brain doesn’t help – a couple days ago I put gas in my car and forgot to put the cap back on. Luckily Bryan was with me, noticed, and fixed it before I drove away with the gas cap dangling in wind.  I can now totally appreciate the fact that my gas cap is attached (I have NEVER done this before either!)

So to you, crazy emotions, An Ode:

Hooray, I am pregnant!

Holy shit, there’s two!

Man, I sure am hungry

Can I steal a bite from you?

Oh my can we afford this?

Don’t think too far ahead

The thought of something going wrong

It fills my heart with dread

The though of little heartbeats, though

That fills my heart with glee

I promise I’ll enjoy this

Just as soon as I go pee

What the Doctors Don’t Tell You

At some point during the IVF process, someone really needs to sit down with you and say, in addition to the procedural and medicinal explanations that undergoing an IVF will do strange things to you.  And the hormones may or may not be to blame. They also need to create some sort of IVF cycle friendly anti anxiety drug, and slip it into your progesterone. Seriously.

#1- IVF will make you get “The Crazy”. The crazy need to test early. With  Bryan working out of town, we see each other 2-3 times a month. He was home for my egg retrieval but had to go right back, and is taking a work trip at the end of this month. So, we decided to meet halfway for a night. I then had the wonderful  horrible  thought that hey! if I take a test and its positive, I can tell him in person!! So, despite my resolve the night before and the fact that it was 4 solid days early, I took a test, telling myself that if it was negative, it was still early so no big deal.

Wrong.

It was negative, and it was a big deal. Which leads us to

#2 – “The Crazy” will make you more dramatic. Not flip out screaming and shouting at the universe kind of big deal, but enough to leave me bummed for several hours and at one point convince myself this meant it didn’t work. We still don’t know the outcome of this of course, but clearly testing 4 days early and getting a negative does NOT mean it didn’t work. But that didn’t stop me from:

#3 -”The Crazy” will make you obsessively Google stupid crap – I left late because I spent 30 minutes Google-ing stupid stuff like “how many days post transfer BFP IVF”, mentally taking count of the people who said they got theirs later than 5 days after transfer, and inwardly cursing those who saw it earlier.  I might as well have Googled “is this going to work” because others’ outcomes will have ZERO effect on my own, however I still felt the need to compare. (I blame The Crazy)

#4 – “The Crazy” will make you obsess, period- Suddenly, I’m questioning whether I read all of the docs instructions correctly (I did), whether I was following all of them (I was), whether I was taking the right dosages at the right times (I was) and if I could have possibly done something to mess this up and cause a positive to not show up FOUR DAYS EARLY.

(Yes, Jeanette – I get it now.)

After a pedicure, some retail therapy, breakfast for dinner and and awesome shared dessert, I felt mostly normal. And while testing early was clearly not the best move on my part, it opened up some dialogue between Bryan and I and I left feeling much more peaceful about the whole thing – success or not. I think maybe I needed assurance that he was behind me and ok to move forward as long as it takes, if necessary. That isn’t to say that a negative blood test still won’t sting, but I have a plan now and it makes me feel better.

The kicker? I totally disregarded the early test after a positive failed to show up in, like, 30 seconds – which means I didn’t even wait out the full amount, and that my negative may or may not have actually been negative. But since I was being over dramatic (see #2) I assumed failure.

Still, there will be no more early testing for me. The night before at the earliest and I may just wait for my blood to be drawn.

Unless “The Crazy” gets to me again. (I totally think we should make a shirt that says something “I went through The Crazy and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.)

Rollercoaster

I feel like I’m a big fan of the analogies lately.

One of the (many) things I dislike about this experience with infertility, besides the obvious, is the emotional ups and downs. Generally, I love roller coasters, especially the high ones with the steepest hills. Unfortunately though, as I’ve gotten a bit older, I can’t run from ride to ride without feeling a little vertigo or spin around too many times without feeling slightly nauseous. I love the rides but have less tolerance.

As the months tick by, I have less tolerance. And the rides are getting old.

I have meant every word of the last few posts about living life more fully, letting go and doing things for Bryan and I.  I’m still super (nerd) excited about installing the floors and washing 21 towels  (I don’t even own 21 towels but I’ll find some!)  in our new super big high efficiency washing machine. I can’t wait to see if the allergen cycle really does remove pet dander and for fun I’ll probably throw a decorative pillow in the dryer’s steam cycle. The last several weeks, I’ve been more relaxed than I have been in over a year, and for me that is a big deal. I plan to continue this trend. By this point I get that  the disappointment, like the hills of a rollercoaster, are just temporary. At the same time, though, its still  part of the ride.

Another blogger posted recently about wishing for an off button. Though it isn’t in the same context, I get it. Sometimes, I want a hope off button. Because when hope doesn’t pan out, it leads to depression, jealousy and brief moments of wanting to admit defeat. (And wine drinking – but that one’s not so bad) Sometimes, hope sneaks up on you in the form of disappointment, because you don’t even realize until you’re disappointed that you were hoping in the first place. Sometimes, hope is the hardest hill to climb, the part of the ride that leaves you dizzy. But it’s also what keeps you getting back on the ride.

While I know logically that each dip isn’t forever, I still dread them, wondering if it’s ever finally going to work. If month after month of this kind of collision with disappointment is really worth it. If I”ll ever get to do more than just watch everyone else get off the ride. If I’m going to be left alone on this one-washing 21 towels used by 2 people and 2 dogs. I just want to enjoy the next ride with (what feels like) everyone else. Is that really too much to ask?

Regardless of what I think or say now, though, you’ll see me again in a few days, standing in the same line to sit in the same seat, hoping this time I’ll be in the front of the line.

Because I’m crazy, I love rollercoasters, and hope is what helps me get back on.

Wave to me as I climb up the hill.

Hurry Up and Wait

I was a nerd in high school.

I’m on the top left

Actually, I’m still a nerd, but that’s totally not the point. That picture up there is my senior year of high school colorguard. Luckily, we were not required to wear those hideous uniforms all 4 years, but wore them for “senior day” and performed part of our freshman halftime show. We nicknamed them the smurf suits if I remember correctly. (They were this weird pants suit with a half skirt that we often held over our heads as a ridiculous semi-cape) We were a competition band and I loved it (nerd). Marching band consisted of a lot of “hurry up and wait” i.e. hurry the heck up and make sure you are totally ready, but we aren’t actually performing for 2 more hours, so then you have to wait.

This is what infertility is starting to feel like.

Who am I kidding? Starting to is the understatement of the decade. I’ve been “ready” forever, but somehow it feels as though I’m never done waiting. For the next RE appointment,for the next time to ovulate, for the next time to count down the days hoping but trying not to hope too hard so you won’t be too disappointed when you find out you have to keep waiting.

One of the things I’ve sort of “prided” myself on has been my ability to maintain somewhat of a sense of humor through all of this madness. I’m finding it harder to keep in touch with recently. I felt positive about news of our tax refund and its’ ability to help us finance this IVF, but it appears that we have hit yet another financial roadblock. I know I’ve mentioned previously my tendency to have “catastrophe brain”, and it seems to be working on overdrive.

What doesn’t make sense to me is the fact that it was *my* decision and *I* decided to wait.

Welcome to the Wide World of Ridiculous Infertility Emotions, starring: me, directed by: my crazy emotional brain.

Act One/Scene One:

Yes I understand emotionally, financially and logically the benefit of waiting

Act One/Scene Two:

I’m annoyed, impatient, bitter and jealous and I don’t want to wait anymore.

Act Two/Scene One:

It’s not a big deal

Act Two/Scene Two:

It is a big deal.

rinse/repeat

The End

No autographs, please.

Also, I am officially diagnosing myself with Infertility Induced Bipolar Disorder. (IIPD)

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.

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.