Mommies Here!

 I went to the RE yesterday and he told me that everything was ‘excellent’ which should have made me feel better but it didn’t. I remain anxious and cranky. Getting up at 5 AM is no piece of cake and I’m tired. When I arrived there at 7AM there were 4 women ahead of me. Ugh! It sucks to wake up that early and have to wait.

The only things that actually make me feel better are green tea (which it tough because I tried  to  give up caffeine) and ginger tea. Everything else, and I do mean EVERYTHING ELSE is just a pain in my arse and contributes to my headache and bloated feelings. Oh, and every once in a while I feel a little twinge of pain in my ovaries.
 
I also learned yesterday that I am going to start Ganitrex on Sunday. So I will be taking Gonal F (225) in the AM and Menopur (3 vials) in the PM with a dash of Ganitrex. And where do all of the needles go you might ask? in the gut! I want to thank my appetite for giving me my love handles aka  ‘the squishy midddle’ so that Nadia always has some ‘prime real estate’. Needless to say,  I can’t wait to start the progestrone shots.
 
He did say that I would have (only) about one more week of medication, so that’s good news, right?

Yesterday, in honor of Labor Day Nadia and I got up early to start the wanding aka frequent vjajay ultrasounds at the doctor’s office. I saw Dr. Feelgood and he seemed happy to see me. The nurses also greeted me with their warm smiles and I really have mixed feelings about that. After a year and I half, I have  good relationship with my RE and his staff. Ho hum.

Anyway, Dr. Feelgood discovered that I had a small cyst on my left ovary and told me that the blood work would let us know if my estrogen level was too high to proceed. I was so dejected when I heard that and I wanted to burst into tears but he told me that blood work would determine whether or not we could proceed.I spent the afternoon on pins and needles waiting for a call and, fortunately, it turned out that everything was fine. 

I got my first shot of Gonal-F in the gut this morning at 7am. Tonight I do 3 vials of menopur, also in the gut. As I try not to look at Nadia’s hand as the needle puncture my stomach, I’m glad for the padding around my middle. It’s a good thing I never lost any of the 15lbs my OB wanted me to lose.

Nadia keeps asking me if I feel excited and the answer is ‘no’. I feel scared. If this doesn’t work, I will be very upset but I am trying to be positive and stress free, though it is a little difficult with pounding heatache.  I think this cycle will require a lot of hard wok and effort on my part. Work to get up and get to the RE by 7AM as well as work to keep myself motivated and on track with my diet with lots of green leafy vegetable, vitamins, daily walks and flax seed.

And so in the tradition of previous cycles before me, I hereby christen this cycle “the Rosie the Riveter Cycle” for all of the women out there like who are laboring hard to conceive, or to create families in whatever way they so choose, to all of them, I say ‘ladies, we can do it!’

Okay, so I spent a large part of my weekend waiting for the Flo. I mean, when already. I found many ways to distract myself, though none of them really held my attention for too long. I kept running to the bathroom to see if It was here, really to no avail. i was like a kid waiting for Santa Claus and I kept thinking of that old boring adage about the pot. And then something happened.

She’s arrived.

I will go the RE tomorrow morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed to christen my IVF cycle, with stirrups, sonograms and lots and lots of needles, oh my!

Let the wanding begin!

I always loved playing blackjack as a kid. I was pretty good at it but I what I liked the most was the thrill of the chase. Vingt et un is still one of my favorite games to this day. I love looking into my opponent’s eyes and trying to guess if he or she is at the breaking point but, most importantly, I love to win.

So I pretty much have 21 days left until I start my IVF cycle and I’m trying to figure out what it all means. I’ve gotten wrapped up in numbers before; specifically, cycle 7 and before that cycle 5. I’m a pseudo-numerologist in training. Right now with 21 days to go it’s too early to discern the meaning of this  cycle but I am starting to feel the exhilaration and thrill that only comes when you’re pacing on uncharted terrain waiting for something big to come along. 

 I’m nervous, excited, thrilled, and scared. I’m trying to keep my wits about me and remember my ability to stay cool under pressure. They say that winning at cards is less about luck and more about tenacity and skill. I feel like I’ve been through the TTC boot camp and I’ve paid my dues. Now I’m just waiting for 21.

I’ve never been a huge Judy Garland fan, I’ve never been into her cult following, but I have to admit that she can sing. And it’s not just that she has an incredible voice, it’s the sadness and heartache she pours into her songs that make you weep, full with the knowledge that you’re not completely alone.

When I was redesigning the site, it was really important to me that I have some kind of rainbow in my header. And it’s not because it has become a symbol of the LGBT community, but because it represents the power of possibility. Sort of, I guess, like baby dust.

Sending someone baby dust is such a phenomenon in the TTC Community but I never mention it here nor have I ever seen it mentioned in a positive light by any of the folks on my blogroll. But I do have to admit that I was quite touched when on of the commentors from International Comment Leaving Week send me some baby dust. It had never happened to me before.  And as I continue to the countdown to my fall IVF cycle (1 month and 3 days), maybe the mention of it is a good sign.

I do feel as if something magical in the air because I’ve witnessed the pregnancies of some of my blogopshere sistren who’ve been at if for a while: Vee and Jay and Calli. And I’m so happy for them. Additionally, Oneofhismoms, welcomed home her bouncing baby joy, Trucker, a few weeks ago and what a blessing that is.  So even though I wrote this really bitchy post about my sister -in-law who tripped and got pregnant a few weeks ago, I’m overjoyed for folks with whom I’ve laughed and cried with over this entire TTC nightmare.

So let’s hear if for baby dust, let’s hear if for magic and let’s hear it for all of us in the trenches. Maybe we will all find ourselves, somewhere over the rainbow, with our screaming newborns and lack of sleep someday soon.

As many of you know, Louise Brown, the first test-tub baby, turns 30 today. Even though I was only eight when she was born, I remember the controversy. My  mother, a deeply religious woman who had three children of her own the old-fashioned way, was a bit shocked. She thought it was unnatural and that it messed with the natural order of things. At the same time, she understood how heart breaking it would be for a woman who could not get pregnant naturally. She loved being a mom.

I also remember watching a Phil Donahue show on test tub babies, where many in the audience expressed their outrage about the use of such complex technology to aid conception. I didn’t know what to make of it because I was so young. I barely understood human anatomy and reproduction, let alone the contraversy around egg retrival and in-vitro, but nevertheless, Louise’s birth story it did leave an impression on me.

Today, as you know, many of the issues and ethical questions remain the same but I’m not going to go into all of that here. Personally, I’m still in shock about the fact that I’m close to starting my own IVF cycle (1 month, 1 week, and 5 days, but whose counting?). Even though, I’ve done medicated IUI cycles before, IVF strikes me as the final frontier.  The procedures are more invasive and there are more medications involved, not to mention needles and the price tag. I never imagined I would be here. I’m scared.

But I keep reminding myself that 3 million IVF babies have been born since Louise, 500,000 of which were born in the USA.   If I am not mistaken, at 38 I have a 40% chance of success per cycle. And I guess that’s something to celebrate.

Yesterday was the day that we bailed out Freddie and Fannie. It was also the day that my new health insurance card arrived in the mail.

I’ve been dreaming about that day; wondering when the card would arrive. As you may remember, I’ve already received my meds for my upcoming IVF cycle from my UPS pal. But the missing link, up until yesterday, was the actual insurance card.

Yesterday, when I opened my mailbox, I noticed an envelope that had a special logo–the health insurance logo–the symbol of my recent dreams. And when I touched the envelope, I felt a little tingle inside. It’s official: my IVF cycle will be paid for.

When I saw the envelope, I immediately dropped my bags along with the rest of the other mail, so that I could rip the envelope to pieces. My appetite would not be sated until I saw the actual plastic, replete with logo, and my new insurance number. When I was in my 20s I used to get excited about credit card plastic, now approaching 40, I am over the moon about health insurance plastic.

Under the neon light of my building lobby, I saw the speckled refraction of the shiney, sparkly white industrial plastic and it was beautiful. This triggered several emotions throughout the evening. Immediately, my face felt flush and I felt butterflies in my stomach which stemmed from a fear starting the whole mess again. But I have to admit that I also felt a strange sense of calm. I’m temporarily free because, I’m waiting a couple more months before I start again. I just started a new job and Nadia and I think it’s best if we wait a little while longer. Even though I think the wait it difficult, it allows me to enjoy the summer without worrying about bulging out of my pants with injectible bloat and it gives me some time to lose the 15lbs (grr!) my doctor suggested I shed before I get pregnant.

When I arrived in my apartment a few minutes later, I felt another emotion–a bit of guilt. The TV was on and the news commentators were discussing the Fannie/Freddie bailout. I thought about that and the economic downturn we’re in (gas at $4.40!) and I also thought about the 47 million Americans who don’t have health insurance. That number represents 16% of our population, but those figures arestale, from 2005, so the actual numbers are much greater.

Additionally, that number does not represent women who are insured but not covered for in/fertility treatments. Stirrup Queen and other Bloggers have written about this. When Nadia and I were doing our taxes this past spring, we discovered that Iwe’ve already shelled out over $10,000 from IUI’s, donor sperm, and meds–despite the fact that I had decent coverage, which is even more comprehensive with this switch.

I guess, towards the end of the evening, I was feeling yet another emotion: gratitude. I’m so damned lucky to have a partner who has a job that pays for IVF and that she works for a company that allows me–a same sex spouse–to join her health insurance plan.

Health insurance is the new black. It’s ‘in’. It’s coveted. It’s at the pulse of the nation, but the problem is that it shouldn’t be a fashionable; a privilege that accessible only for an elite group of people. It should be universal.

It came today.

And by ‘it’ I mean my IVF box from hell full of medications for my impending IVF cycle. I won’t begin cycling until the fall but I was advised to buy the medication before I switched insurance.

I already have lots of Menopur left over from my failed IUI cycles so here is a list of what arrived today:
· Progesterone vaginal insert
· Progesterone Injection
· Ganirelix Acetate Injection
· Novarel—trigger shot
· Doxycycline
· Methylprednisolone

And let’s not forget the infamous: Gonal-F Pen! I feel as if I have crossed a TTC threshold with that last one. I have heard and read so much about them. I was also send another sharps container–I think I have about 10 now– and last but not least, I received several (approximately 50) 1.5 inch needles .

Yowsa!

When I figure out what I am doing I will add a ticker tape to countdown to my IVF cycle.

You may remember that I was on birth control pills because I had had a cyst on my ovaries. Other than the occasional homicidal tendency, once I started the menopur injections, I was plugging along just fine on the way to my 7th IUI. Then, as the days progressed, Dr. Feelgood didn’t seem too optimistic for IUI cycle #7 (aka unlucky 7) because I wasn’t really responding well to the medication.

While on menopur, I only developed one viable egg. At the same time, he did not want to increase the dosage because he noticed some additional fluid that he said was being exacerbated by the medication. He said that the fluid pocket could be due to scarring from my surgery.

Needless to say, I am not a very happy camper.

Nadia and I talked about it—ad nauseum– and we decided to skip that cycle. I mean, why invest so much moula, energy, and time when there was only one egg in play? Dr. Feelgood totally agreed with our decision.

So now I am desperately waiting for Auntie Flo. But in my heart of hearts. I am trying to decide if I should do another round of IUIs—rounding out the number to numero 8– or if I should just wait until I get on Nadia’s insurance this summer. Should I skip go, the $200 and go straight to jail, I mean IVF?

IVF is scarey because for me it really represents the final frontier, a frontier that I really didn’t even want to consider a few months ago. But I am trying to get used to the idea and I am trying to convince myself that it represents a ray a hope.

Nadia keeps reminding me, ‘You are not out of the game yet, my dear, not yet.”