Beauty and Courage

Back from the Vegas FET, my easiest trip yet. For the following reasons:

1) My mom was there

2) We got upgraded to a great suite at the Wynn (as a Vegas expert, I can say that the Wynn is my favorite hotel there now)

3) Great dinner at the bar at Bartolotta with mom (where she told me that she has realized that adoption is probably what is meant to be - not just for R_ and me, but for our family)

4) Bought a great pair of patent leather wedge heels while trying to remain distracted for the thaw report-

5) Both blasts survived the thaw! Transfer was uneventful and the Valium was delightful.

6) Cab driver was nice

7) Got an early flight home.

And a bonus:  at the airport, I got an email that we have been assigned a social worker for our adoption homestudy.

Nice.

I can’t believe it has been so long since my last post.  I have been completely focused on other things lately, and put infertility into a tiny corner of my mind.  R_’s work has been incredibly stressful recently, and I have been focused on him and just getting both of us through this challenging time.

So I thought I would just post tonight and just say “hello”.  I have 100 posts to catch up on with my Google Reader, so it will take some time!

I’m doing the prep for our FET in Vegas this month (transfer is July 21), and still working on the adoption homestudy materials… and trying to just keep above water with everything else.

Maybe this post will “break the seal” and I’ll get up and running again soon… if not, know that I am thinking of all of you and will catch up on this past month ASAP, and I’ll post more as soon as I have something to say or process…

It’s a foggy dreary Saturday here, and I’m realizing that my plans to get in shape are hard to adhere to, when the weather is bad. And when I’ve decided to do a FET in July, I just think, “what is the point”?

Yes, that is correct. We’ve decided to get it over with (great attitude, I know). So I’m back on the pill and will do the transfer the 3rd week in July. When we had our last negative I hit rock bottom, and thought that I would never want to inject another thing in to my body for a long long time. But after some time, my mind has changed. Now I want to finish this, so we can move forward with our lives. And I feel strong enough to do it.

In the meantime, I’m still working on adoption stuff- trying to get our homestudy application in, gathering family pictures for our profile… actually, starting to take some pictures since most of ours seem to involve glasses of wine!

More plans… I’m going to Guatemala next week for a short vacation. A dear friend of mine’s mom lives there, and they invited me to come down for a visit. I’m so excited to get away, see something new, and spend time with these wonderful people and their family. It will be a nice distraction.

Mentally, I’ve noticed a subtle shift in my thinking. When I talk to people who are pregnant, when I hear pregnancy announcements, or when I hear that friends are thinking about having kids or even starting down the infertility road, I still feel that stabbing pain in my heart. But for the first time, I don’t really think or even hope that someday, I am going to get pregnant too. I don’t even feel anything in common with fellow infertiles who are new to the process. Deep down, I know for the first time that we are one of the few couples for whom medical therapy doesn’t “work”, that I am different and that our family is going to be different. I feel more distance from the pregnancies than ever before, if that makes any sense.

During my therapy session last week, Yoda (that is what we call him) showed me a gesture that I think Sufi mystics do (I could have that part wrong). Basically, it is a sign of prayer with your hands at your heart, then move them upwards closer to your head. As they move up, you open them so that your palms are facing upwards. (This is hard to describe! You basically trace a “Y” motion with your hands.) It means “here you go, God. I’ve done everything I can, and now it’s your problem.” I’ve done it many time this week, and there is some comfort to be found there.

Off to pack for Guatemala! I’ll post again after I get back.

I just was so touched to receive the Pink Rose Award from Kate today.  I have seen them floating around before, but read more about the theory behind it here.  I love that it means that others are hoping for me when I don’t have the energy or ability to hope for myself.  So thank you, Kate.  (It particularly meant a lot to me to receive one from Kate, since she is one of my inspirations for starting a blog in the first place.  If you haven’t yet, you should read the articles she has written for her hometown newspaper. )

The other wonderful thing about this award is that it has forced me to figure out how to create links and insert photos into a blog post!  Little slow on the uptake there. 

I’m slogging through the days here.  I feel like something big is happening, but I don’t know what it will be.  All I know is that I am grieving.  I saw my therapist today after a year’s hiatus, and cried my way through the appointment.  He asked me what I want, and my first reaction was to say what I want is a biological child with R_.  Then I realized what I really want is to be happy again, and at peace, and not to feel this ache in my heart any more.  And I realized that those are two very different things.   So I’m going to sit with that awhile and see what happens.

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone. 

Another negative. Defeated again.

I’m grieving… I am grieving the loss of hope. It is not going to happen for us.

R_ and I know the drill. It starts with hulking sobs. Feelings of loss, disappointment, fear, sadness, and guilt. Long hugs and kisses. A good homemade meal. Two bottles of wine. Dessert. Discussion of plans. Quiet. Rest. Reading. Phone calls, text messages and emails. Gathering love and support. Occasional waves of teary eyes and sorrow. Distraction. Plans to take care of yourself . Thoughts of a different future.

I could never be a Buddhist. The whole non-attachment thing just isn’t working for me right now. I am still very attached to the idea of our own biological child. But I need to figure out a way to disentangle myself from that. And get to a place of faith, belief, and trust. To be at peace with what I have been given. I’m not there yet, but that is my goal.

Wish me luck.

I hate them. No matter how much I tell myself it’s the progesterone, my heart just sinks… I’m having that mildly-queasy-warmth-in-the-lower abdomen feeling that comes and goes, and feels like my period is right around the corner.  And for the past 3 years, that is indeed exactly what happens next.  Ugh.  Any positive stories on this point would be much appreciated!

On another note, I’m loving NaComLeavMo, and I didn’t even have the courage to sign up for it. But in the spirit of things, I’m going to try to join in…(feels like I’m trying to run a marathon without registering for a number!)

Home again…. overall everything went well, better than ever. But I have to take you through my 36 hours in Vegas, starting with my cab ride from the airport. Here is a dialogue with a physically imposing muscular white man, who was my cab driver, who looked to be thirty-something.

Dot (thinking she should be social): So, what strange weather! I can’t believe it is raining here this weekend.

Cabbie (sarcasm): The weather must not like you. I’m sorry.

Dot (taken aback): It’s not your fault

Cabbie: So where are you from?

Dot (tells him, but because I just read a scary article about blogging in the NYT Magazine today, I’m not going to write it here)

Cabbie: Isn’t that where people are all red-diapered potheads?

Dot (taken further aback): I have no idea what you are talking about. What does red-diapered mean?

Cabbie: Communist

Dot: Oh. No, that is not true at all.

Cabbie: So what do you do?

Dot: I’m a doctor

Cabbie: Is it true that doctors kill more people than they help?

Dot (with disbelief- is this really happening? How long is this cab ride anyways?): Nooo…. do you really think that?

Cabbie: I do. I had a friend quit medicine because he thought he was giving too many medicines and killing people.

Dot: Well, we will probably have to agree to disagree on that one.

Cabbie: Do you have kids?

Dot (after recovering from the usual quick heart-stab): No

Cabbie: Are you barren?

Dot (to self THIS IS NOT HAPPENING- I must have misunderstood, did he say married?): Yes

Cabbie: You are barren?

Dot: Barren? I thought you said married! I am married!

Cabbie: Well, are you barren?

Dot: You should not ask that question.

Cabbie: Why not?

Dot (GET ME OUT OF HERE!!): Well, it is personal. And if I were, I wouldn’t tell you.

End of conversation. The rest of the cab ride I obsess about whether I need to tip the guy, if he is mentally disturbed, and what are the chances that I would have the one cab driver in all of Vegas who asks someone if she is BARREN on her way to an IVF treatment? And what kind of word is Barren, anyways?

Flash forward- one room service meal, therapeutic and laughter-filled conversation with my sister in law about the cab ride, in-room movie, and Amstel Light from the mini- bar later, I fall asleep. The next day I am supposed to get a call “before 9am” with a report on how the embryos fared. At 9:15 I had arranged for acupuncture with someone I didn’t know at her office (my regular was out of town- how many people can say they have a regular acupuncturist in Vegas?) I was a nervous wreck, because I still hadn’t gotten a call. So we started anyways. It was a strange session, because not only did she put the needles in, but she did guided imagery- “imagine your uterus filled with turquoise-blue light” - which normally is right up my alley, but not when I am more concerned about how I could answer my cell phone with needles in my ears, and if I just wasted $85 because we have nothing to transfer. Afterwards, she gave me a little talk about how my energy is too anxious and I just need to give it all things up to the universe. I almost lost it. R_ and I have done so well this cycle, and these 12 hours almost ruined everything!

So I went to the clinic, and NOONE WAS THERE. I was supposed to drink a liter of water by 10:15 for the tranfer, and I still didn’t have a report. It was 10:30 by this point, the clinic was open but the labyrinth of hallways were completely deserted. I wandered around for a while (checked out one of the partner’s diplomas, that sort of thing) and was starting to really…panic? Get anxious? Laugh? The whole thing was ridiculous!

So now the story normalizes a bit- thank goodness. My nurse magically appeared, she gave me my report (2 good blasts for transfer) , I took my Valium (the best part), and had the transfer. I had my iPod and chilled out to Amos Lee and my meditation CD afterwards, and my heart rate started to normalize. I then went back to my hotel and hung out and ordered room service (twice) and watched 2 movies (La Vie En Rose and Casino Royale- both good for different reasons). I dozed, and read magazines, and rested. And it was a good day.

Today, out of the blue one of the bellmen from the hotel offered to drive me to the airport in a huge black Cadillac Escalade. He was very nice and didn’t ask if I was barren. I got a call, right on time, from my nurse who said that today we have 2 more blasts that they were able to freeze- which has never happened before. My dog is here by my side at home, and R_ is here too , and I just started reading a new book (The Gathering, by Anne Enright). And I made it, I’m OK. No matter what happens, I’m OK.

Just don’t make me take another cab in Vegas for a long time. At least without a posse for protection.

I’ve decided not to take my laptop to Vegas… I’ll write an update when I get home on Sunday.  No news is hopefully good news… because I’ll fly home tomorrow if we have nothing to transfer!

Geez that was a nightmare! They didn’t call until 2:30pm, which is late for that clinic- the only other time I got a late call was when our golden embryo didn’t survive the thaw. I think I need to go meditate or something to get my blood pressure and heart rate down.

Anyways, guardedly good news once again. We have 7 (!!!) that are still looking good. Here’s the data for anyone interested: 2- 9 cells, 3-8 cells, 2-7 cells, 1-5 cell, 1-2 cell. All were grade 1 (the best) or 2. (On day 3, anything between 7-10 cells is good, 8 being ideal.) That is our best ever day 3 report. But, thinking more about it, our first cycle we also used ganirelix and had good day 3 embryos, but no blasts to transfer. So who knows.

I am not hopeful. I am not hopeful. To kill time this afternoon I reviewed our adoption homestudy application again. I haven’t actually written anything on it yet, but I have almost memorized it!

My poor dad just called- my mom had told him the news. I just cut him off- I can’t handle any excitement. We have been burned too many times, there are too many hoops left to go through. I love them too much, I just can’t handle seeing them get their hopes up for us once again, only to see them shattered. It’s too much. I think they understand.

Another note- today is our 4 year anniversary. What a party that was, 4 years ago. It was the best weekend of my life, followed by a 6 week honeymoon to Italy and Africa that I still dream about. The past 4 years have been full of love, laughter, growth, and some sorrow as well. Wonder what the next 4 will bring. To quote the cheesy anniversary card I found today, “the adventure continues.”

Transfer on Saturday. I’ll update again, then.

Thank you for all of your warm well wishes!!

Because I’m still trying to distance myself from this cycle…

Retrieval took it’s toll on my body on Monday- I’m finally feeling a bit better today. R_ had to be out of town, so I did it solo, which wasn’t that fun. (His contribution was made on Saturday and frozen).

The numbers: 20 retrieved, 10 mature, 9 fertilized with ICSI.

I’m home now (thankfully) and heading back to Vegas on Friday.

Day 3 report tomorrow.

Tentative transfer on Saturday….

(As compared to other cycles, 9 fertilized is good- although in the past, we tend to “crash and burn” between now and day 5, and have either nothing to transfer, or one good one at the most… so while this is good news, I am VERY guarded).