CD53 for the win!

Hey guys,
Just thought I should write real quick in case any of you were wondering how this week went. I’ve had a couple people ask for an update, so here goes:

If you remember, last time I wrote, if I didn’t start CD1 by Monday I was going to have to call the doctor & make another appointment to figure out our options… more meds or surgery to get rid of the cyst.

Well, Monday morning came around, and still nothing. I ate breakfast, watched TV for a little while, and right before I was about to make the call, I decided to go to the bathroom. Well, lo & behold… guess what… I finally started! On CD53, Aunt Flow gracefully arrived for her 4 day stay. I was expecting it to be horrid, but it really wasn’t… on the physical side. The emotional side is a whole other story. But I’m just blaming that on my progesterone levels finally coming down. Yea… totally the hormones’ fault… I’m not owning any of that.

If you were one of those people who prayed for this situation: THANK YOU. Honestly, those words can’t express the gratitude I feel for your support.

If you’re one of those people who just doesn’t know how to talk to me about any of this, so you just don’t: I understand. I wouldn’t know what to say either.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, read my previous posts. 😉

Once we wrap our heads around this, and take a little more time to process, I’ll probably update you again. We’ve been talking a lot. And there are a bunch of things that are just up in the air. But for now, here’s what I absolutely do know:

Prayers work.
Red lipstick is like armor.
Bling is the best distraction.
I’m married to a hormone-proof super hero.

And we have one embryo left.

“Wait. What?”

If you’re expecting an amazing update on our fertility journey, I hate to break it to you: there isn’t one.

Multiply the frustration that fosters up for you by about 674,832, and “Hi. I’m Emily.”

If this five-year fertility challenge has been the ultimate test in patience (as some of you have speculated), I think I deserve a medal. Or a cookie. Or SOMETHING. Maybe like a title? I don’t know… How about “Emily of Louisiana- the Princess of ‘Wait. What?'”

That’s what I find myself saying every time I go to the doctor, “Wait. What?” It’s a constant battle of confusion & frustration versus acceptance & “we’ve got this.” We know God is the ultimate story teller, and ours is no different. But a glimpse of our happy ending would be much appreciated right now.  As most of you know, neither David nor I have been diagnosed with anything specific in regards to our fertility troubles. Nothing is “wrong.” Which, in turn, just leads to more frustration & confusion.

The latest installment of “Wait. What?” has been very, very sneaky. It has slyly, little by little, day by day, slithered into our lives. And has literally forced us into a break.

-Warning- if you’re not a fan of TMI, I encourage you to skip this next couple of paragraphs.

After we learned about the chemical pregnancy on Dec 20th, my doctor ordered me to stop all medications. Soon after, on 12/26 my Cycle Day 1 (CD1) arrived (for those of you who aren’t privy to fertility terms: my period started…the day after Christmas). It was normal, and came & went in about 4 days. We weren’t ready at that point to dive right back in, because frankly we were getting over a devastating loss… and we kinda still are.

We went about our normal lives after the holidays. I tried to get back to work, not without some major challenges (see previous post). I had quite a few breakdowns in January. But I hid them well… at least I think I did. The days came & went, and came & went. And soon I found myself wondering, “Isn’t my next CD1 supposed to be here? It’s like CD35….hmm.” I learned long ago that I can NEVER get excited about that like other gals can. It most likely doesn’t mean something great. But, then again, you never know.

By the time CD40 came around, I decided to go ahead & take a pregnancy test. Could this be IT? Could, after all of this time & after all of these procedures & all of this money spent, could we just get naturally pregnant the month after a miscarriage?? It’s definitely possible! Anything is possible. Is it probable, though? Of course not. And just like that, 2.5 minutes later, we’re back to square one. Negative.

So I called my RE’s office, and we set up blood work & an ultrasound for the next day to see what was going on. After all, it could be a false negative. But either way, we need to find out.

Long story short, the ultrasound showed a cyst that was forming… gggggggrrrrreat. And my blood work confirmed that I am indeed not preggers (Newsflash!). But it also showed I still have a high level of progesterone in my system. It’s probably “leftover” from my last IVF cycle.

Cue the “Wait. What?” confusion, because I’ve already had a period since then… so that doesn’t make any sense to me. But anything’s possible, right? (Seriously…WHERE is that eye-rolling emoji when you need it?!?!?)

My doctor told me to wait it out for about two more weeks to see what happens. A lot of times, these things just even themselves out with time. If that’s not my case, (which c’mon is my case EVER that easy?), I have to call them to set up an appointment for more blood work & to decide what our next step is. It may be more shots, it may be a surgery. We won’t be sure until the results come back.

So that’s where we are. Cycle Day 51. If I don’t start by Monday, I have to make the call.

I’ve been trying to keep my mind off of it. Just letting the time pass on it’s own. I mean, worrying about it won’t make the time pass any faster; I know that. But I also feel like these past 51 days have turned this from a fertility journey into a “let’s make Emily actually function again” journey. And I hate that.

Have I ruined myself over these past 5 years? Probably.
Is it some sort of sign? Most likely.
But when, and where, and what would you stop at to get your babies?

.

.

ONE. EMBRYO. LEFT.

.

And we have the feeling that something BIG is on the horizon.
Prayers welcomed.

Processing…

I’ve been wanting to write this post for a while now, but I wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.

For some reason, I feel the pull to be completely open & honest with everyone about what’s been going on with me the past couple of weeks/months/years. But to be honest, I think I’m still processing it. A lot of the time, writing on this blog helps me to do just that: process. It helps me to organize my thoughts, and makes me assign & recognize my feelings about those thoughts. So I decided to just sit down, start typing, and see what comes out.

After a lot of contemplation, I’ve also decided to completely “come out” about our struggles with fertility in 2015. You may recall, a few months ago, I decided to “come out” on Instagram, but I wasn’t quite ready for my Facebook world to know everything. In the name of privacy, I’m sure you can understand where that comes from. But I’ve seen friend after friend drop hints, have vague statuses (that only IVFers would understand), and reach out on Facebook. All of them feeling alone in this. I’ve done my best to message them & reassure them that they are not alone. And I’ve actually become close to quite a few of those brave women.

But that got me thinking.
How many of my friends, or maybe even just acquaintances, are out there facing the world of fertility challenges or IVF who haven’t reached out?
This post is for them: YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

David and I have been trying to conceive for five long years now. And we’ve tried everything.

Infertility (IF) does not discriminate. Every color, nation, religion, political sect, & gender has it’s share of IF in it’s people. In fact, one in every eight couples faces it. One in EIGHT!

Let me just say up front– I don’t write this blog for sympathy or attention.  Writing is a form of therapy for me. I share this blog with my family & friends to keep them updated, because talking out loud about it is still sometimes very difficult for me. And I’m now sharing it with the world to hopefully help other people cope with or understand what they or someone they are close to is going through. If this can become a resource or an outlet for someone else, then I know my struggles are not in vain. Every time I ask myself, “Why now?” The only answer I can come up with is, “Why not now?”

If this is the first time you’ve visited my blog, I invite you to get up to speed by visiting my “Quick ART Stats” page (ART= Assisted Reproductive Technology),or feel free to browse my past posts. (Warning: some of the posts aren’t about IF at all, they’re just things I thought were funny, but inappropriate for facebook lol)

I promised the rest of you an update.
So here goes:

The last time I updated you guys, I had just come off of cancelled cycle because we were having trouble getting my uterine lining prepped for an IVF Frozen Embryo Transfer (FRET). The minimum uterine lining measurement my doctor will work with for a FRET is an 8.0, but we kept getting 6s. For weeks & weeks I was on an extensive hormone and red raspberry tea capsule regimen tying to get my lining to grow. I finally got up to a 9.1, scheduled my FRET, went in for my final check-up, just to find out it had gone back down to a 7.5. So they cancelled that cycle. TOTAL BUMMER.

Six weeks of hormones down. the. toilet. Not to mention all the moola that went with it.

Anyway, once CD1 (cycle day 1, aka: my period) arrived, we were ready to start fresh.
Not as in “fresh IVF,” because we still had 5 frozen embryos, but “fresh” in the sense of starting over. A new day, a new dawn, a new cycle.

On CD14, I had my ultrasound & blood work, and we started a combo of meds for the books: Lupron shots in the stomach every day, Vivelle patches (worked up to 4, switching twice per week), Estrace inserts three times per day, Delestrogen shots in the hip twice per week, 2 red raspberry tea leaf capsules at every meal, and of course my morning pre-natal vitamins & my nightly baby aspirins. This protocol lasted two weeks. This was also about the time I realized (out of shear necessity, because David was at work) that I could give myself my own intramuscular hip shots.. Go me!! lol I’ve always done the stomach ones, but hips were a whole other story. I told David after I conquered that, that I felt like a bad-ass warrior princess. It’s true! Small victories can mean so much throughout this process.

Speaking of small victories, at my very FIRST lining check this round, my uterine lining was a 9.3!!!
Wait, WHAT!?! YES!! A NINE point freaking THREE! We were so pumped! All that time during the previous cycle just trying to reach an 8, and this round we had already blown that out of the water at the FIRST check. Pumped was not even the word. ELATED is more like it.

Of course, they always need that second number to compare to the first reading. So we went back three days later to check in on the lining, and it had increased to a 10.4. Perfect! As long as it didn’t decrease, we were in business. So that day, they took me off of the Lupron, and put me on daily Progesterone hip shots. (Note: I feel like I have to add that during this round, the hormones didn’t have NEARLY the emotional toll that they’ve had in the past. We were quite pleased with that). They like you to be on Progesterone for at least 5 days before a transfer, so they scheduled my FRET for December 9th. Can we say whirlwind?

The moment we scheduled for 12/9 I felt instant clarity on why my last cycle was cancelled. This was God’s way of setting us up for a Christmas miracle! Everything had gone so perfectly with this round. How could it not be?

Those next five days flew by so fast. We added the standard steroid & anti-biotic to my meds protocol. And all of a sudden, it was transfer day.

Have you ever been crazy-excited-nervous and incredibly calm at the same time? Talk about a surreal feeling.

While we were waiting for the procedure, my doctor came into the room for us to sign our final paperwork regarding the embryos. Going into this round, we had 5 embryos left.  And we had signed the paperwork a couple of weeks beforehand stating that we’d like to thaw & transfer 2 of them this round. Welp, those two embryos didn’t survive the thawing process. So they had to thaw two more for us to transfer that day…hence, the paperwork. At first, I was really upset. But David & my doctor both helped soothe me by reminding me that we still had TWO embryos to transfer and one still frozen.  Some couples aren’t that lucky even in a fresh IVF cycle. So once that was put into perspective, I felt much better. I think the Valium they gave me next had a little bit to do with it too.

The transfer went perfectly. Here’s a little pic I put together to kinda sum up the day:

Valium is conducive to duck-face apparently… lol

Anyway, my lining was around an 11, and the procedure went off without a hitch. We waited in our room for about 30 minutes, and then we were released to go home.

I was ordered three days of strict bed rest, two days of light bed rest, and then I could go back to “normal activity, but no strenuous exercise.” If you know me, you know that’s not “normal activity” for me…not exercising. I had gotten substitute teachers/angels to teach my classes while I was out. Meanwhile, I was going stir-crazy at home. But I was also relishing in the fact that I was PUPO! For you non-TTC peeps, that’s: Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise. It made me giddy just thinking about it!! I was PUPO! EEK!

The next few days draggggggged on & on. I was still on all my meds, so that kinda helped pass the time. But it’s very hard to find things to do when you’re not supposed to DO anything. No cleaning, no lifting/organizing, which meant NO Christmas decorating. I literally watched TV for almost 2 weeks. I can’t say I hated it though… I guess sometimes we all need a break. I felt so bad for my subs. I knew my clients were going to be asking them where I was eventually. And I could imagine them reenacting that scene from Dirty Dancing when the manager asks Johnny where Penny is, and he’s all like “She’s on a break! She NEEDS a break!” hahahaha I think I was getting delirious.

Finally, the day of the pregnancy test came. I must admit though, in the spirit of true honesty, I had gotten too anxious and did an EPT at home the day before. It was negative, so I went into the appointment with 24 hours of acceptance under my belt. I knew about (and believed in) the possibility of a false negative because it was so early. But I was also prepared mentally & emotionally just in case.

I took the blood test at 10am, and then we decided to go to a neutral place to get the news.

We’ve done it two other ways in the past:
1. We took the test, and headed home so we could be in the comfort of our home to get the news. Either way, however it went, we thought this would be nice. Wrong. There’s a specific spot on my sofa that I look at with disdain because that’s where I was sitting when we got the news that our last IVF had failed. Never again.
2. We waited out the hour at the office to get the results right then & there. I’ve seen other people do this, and they got to celebrate with the nurses & doctor; that looked so special. But, we of course,  got bad news and had to wait an hour in a conference room afterwards (see previous posts for details) because the doctor wanted to talk to us about what happened.

Either way, we hated both of those experiences. So this time, we decided to go somewhere neutral. Somewhere nice, that would be a great spot to re-visit & tell our kids about if we got a BFP (big, fat positive). But also somewhere that we wouldn’t ever have to revisit, and we could just leave the news there if it was a BFN. So we decided on the beautiful Audubon Park. It was a gorgeous day, and the park is only about a 15 minute drive from the doctor’s office. So it was perfect.

We were able to spend the hour in peace. We watched some ducks and swans swim, we walked around the park a little bit, people watched. It was really lovely. We chatted about what we were going to do if it was a BFP, how we were going to tell our families…it is Christmas time after all, we could do something really fun with that. We also chatted about how to handle another BFN. God’s timing is perfect, and we just kept reminding ourselves of that fact.

And after about an hour & a half of waiting, the call finally came in.

I made David answer the phone because I was too nervous. He just kept nodding and saying, “Uh huh, ok….I understand… Ok…Uh huh…yes ma’am…”  I was looking at him like “WHHHAAATT?!?!?!?!” And he did that thing with his hands where it’s not a thumbs up, or a thumbs down, it’s like a flat hand tilt, meaning “kinda.” He finally got off the phone, and I was begging him to just TALK already.

He said, “That was Mrs. Mary. And we’ve got a B….F….. M.”

“Wait. WHAT??!@#$%^&*(*&^%$#@?
What does that even mean? A big, fat, MAYBE?!”

In a nutshell (and being very basic), when doing a blood pregnancy test, they’d like to see your level (your “Beta”) at a 20 or above. And they’d like to see that number at least double every 2 days. In the past, all of our other betas were always a flat ZERO. Nothing. Nada. Ziltch.

But this time was different. This time it was a 9.5!! So yes, BFM it is! lol

But what do we do with that?
Well, Mary told David to be “cautiously optimistic,” because it could just mean that one or both of the embryos implanted late, which is why the Beta is lower. She said she has seen live, healthy births come from beta tests that were under 20. So they wanted to see me first thing Saturday morning (this past Saturday if you’re counting) to draw the 2nd beta to really see what’s going on.

More. waiting…

The agony of not knowing is the hardest part. But I was holding on to the fact that I was still PUPO, and that we didn’t get horrible news for the first time EVER!! So we celebrated! I excitedly & giddily cried for a little while. David couldn’t stop hugging me. We were just SO happy. A BFM…who would’ve ever imagined?
We ate at Superior Grill, finished up some Christmas shopping in the city, and then headed home.

Saturday soon came, and it was a dreary day. Rainy, cold, foggy, the works. We got up early and we were at the office by 7:45… talk about excited! We couldn’t go back to the park to get the news because it was so nasty outside, so we decided to go get beignets for breakfast, and then proceeded to roam around New Orleans for about two hours. I was getting worried because it was taking so long for them to get back to us, so I asked David to just drive to Audubon Park so we could at least be there again where we had gotten such fun news two days before. We stayed in the car, nervously waiting. It was Saturday, so we had no idea how long it would take to get the labs back.

Right when we were trying to decide if we should just head home or not, my phone then rang with a 504 number that I didn’t recognize. My stomach turned. I got out of the car (don’t know why), and I nervously answered. It was my doctor calling from his personal phone… The second beta was a 2.5.

He explained that the decreasing number meant that it was a bio-chemical pregnancy, the earliest form of miscarriage, and that the only reason we knew about it was because we had done IVF and tested so early. He was so sympathetic, and trying to comfort me. But I just wanted to hang up & disappear into David’s chest.

I wept.

Still processing.

One. Embryo. Left.

***

Halloween is hard.

That moment you realize that “4 years” just turned into “5 years.”
And it happens to inconveniently hit you while you’re giving out the first handful of Halloween candy.
Yea. Not fun.

It’s surreal. To think we’ve been in it for this long…  We’ve been trying to conceive for FIVE freakin’ years.

Forget surreal. It’s depressing is what it is.

How many couples do you know who have been together for 12 years, married for almost 8, and still don’t have any children?  I have a feeling the next time someone throws one of those assuming “y’all must not want kids” comments my way, it won’t be pretty.
(Please pardon my dramatics… I’m coming down hard off of a six week hormone binge lol)

I tried really hard tonight to finish giving out candy for Halloween. But you’re reading the fruits of that labor.
You know it’s bad when the cute fireman who could barely string the words together says “tic o teeeeee!” and you tear up.
After I gave him his bounty, I said to myself, “forget this shit.” I made a sign to put next to the candy so kids could help themselves, and I hauled ass into my room to write this post.

–I HAVE JUST GOT TO GET IT OUT–

Let’s just say it: Halloween is HARD for us reproductively challenged people!!
Am I right?? Think about it… little Elsa princesses, little Toddler Mutant Ninja Turtles, little families…  (sigh)
It’s cuteness overload!!! And I just can’t take it anymore!

Since David’s working nights, it was up to me to hand out the candy alone.
Mistake #1: No support.
Mistake #2: thinking I could do it even though I just came off of all the hormones I’ve been on for the past 6 weeks… 2 days ago… cold turkey… bc of my stupid cancelled fret cycle.

I’ve never had a cancelled cycle before, but I can’t say I was shocked. I’ve had a tiny feeling something wasn’t right for about 3 weeks now. I just didn’t say anything bc I didn’t want to speak it into existence. We had been having trouble getting my uterine lining to grow… which had NEVER happened before. I was on meds for a couple of extra weeks to try to get it to measure an 8, so we could do a frozen transfer. But I kept getting 6s.

Then FINALLY, last week, it measured a 9.1!! I was pumped! So we scheduled the fret for 10/30.

I went in on 10/29 (Wednesday) for my final check-up & blood work  before the transfer, and I was back down to a 7.5.
So my RE decided to cancel the cycle & start completely over on CD1 (once Aunt Flo visits).

You’d think I’d be frustrated & very upset; and don’t get me wrong, I kinda am. But I’d much rather cancel a cycle bc something’s not right than go ahead & do it, get another negative, and end up wasting 2 more embryos. To me, that would be WAY more devastating.

I’m not gonna lie, the past 2 days have been really rough coming off those steady doses of estrogen & progesterone. I can’t even tell you how crazy I feel at any given moment… it’s very hard to explain.

I can tell you that I’m definitely already ready for my next cycle though.

And I find my perspective on all of this has shifted as well:
In the beginning, I was all positivity, all the time. Like, “this is SO going to work. THIS is the one!”
Then, we started getting burned. A lot. So it shifted into a kinda negative/realist point of view. Like “this could go right. But this, that, and this could happen. So don’t jump the gun.” I was kinda setting my self up for the possibility of failure, bc I fell so long & hard the previous times, that I wanted to prepare myself for the worst. (Does that even make sense? I don’t even know.)
Now, I feel like I’m going into things from a place of acceptance. Like, “whatever happens is supposed to happen. Just do your best, and let God handle the rest.”

It’s A LOT more calming to come from that place than either of the other two.  I feel like it kinda takes the load off of my shoulders, and puts it where it belongs anyway- in God’s hands. Why has it taken me this long to get there? I don’t know. Maybe that was the lesson in all of this, and maybe it’s just the tip of the iceberg.

No one knows. But I guess we’ll eventually find out, won’t we?

I must be a really slow learner 😉 lol

Having faith IN “fertile”

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my blog. “Faithinfertile,” to me, used to mean something like “here is a girl with an ounce or two of faith who also happens to be infertile, and this is her story.” But lately, …

OK birthday candles, do your thing!

Welp. This is it. My very last day in my 20s. To say I’m not where I imagined I’d be in my life on my 30th birthday eve is an understatement. From a young age I always had this feeling, …

Hehe

Just thought this was kinda funny.
Hope y’all are having a happy Thursday 😉

ps- prayers for guidance are encouraged right now… I’m feeling kinda LOST. Thank you! ❤️🙏

Long time no see…

Welp guys, how’s it going?
Long time no see…

I haven’t written in a little over ten weeks. At first it was because I felt like shit & I really just didn’t want to. That last negative hit me HARD & for a LONG time. Then, as time passed and I slowly inched back to normal, I just couldn’t think of any reason to write. Nothing was going on that I felt the need to update you on.  I’m still not back to “normal” per se; I mean, who is, really? But I can feel my personality coming back, so that’s a plus. Something happens to you when you get the feeling that you have been literally changed, and not by choice. It’s the closest thing to an identity crisis that I think I’ve ever been through. There were a few times when I thought I’d lost Emily forever, but I’ve been getting glimpses of her lately; and that makes me really happy 🙂

A new acquaintance of mine, who is expecting her first child after trying for NINE years, suggested that I get some genetic testing done.  After exhausting all her options, multiple times, she signed up for a clinical trial in Texas. After that, she demanded being tested for ANA, and Factor 5. Turns out she was positive for both, went on a $4 medication and was pregnant with the next FRET that she did! FOUR. FREAKING. DOLLARS.

The problem with genetic testing is that it’s almost impossible to get tested for “everything.” You have to pick & choose what you want to be tested for. This is tricky, especially for someone like me with absolutely NO medical background. (Although, I do feel kinda like some sort of infertility tour guide for some of my friends now that I’ve been through the ringer & back. lol)  So I did my research, and I decided I wanted to be tested for ANA (anti-nuclear anti-body) and NK cells (natural killer cells). Both are autoimmune deficiencies that basically attack foreign cells in your body (which would explain why I rarely ever get sick). The theory is that these cells see embryos as foreign threats and destroy them before they can attach to the uterus.

So, I emailed “A,” one of my IVF coordinators at my doctor’s office, and asked her if they could do the genetic testing there. She replied that they normally only do genetic testing if either the couple has family history of a genetic disorder OR the couple has recently had a miscarriage. I told her I wanted it done anyway, and we made the appointment. I was actually rather proud of myself for taking charge of it & not just saying “Oh, ok. Never mind.”

My appointment was this past Wednesday.
I was nervous.
Like, really nervous.

On one hand, I was hoping to have a genetic disorder so that we could FIX everything. And on the other hand, I was feeling insane for actually wanting a genetic disorder. Like WTF? Talk about conflicted!

Driving to the office was surreal. It was almost like returning to the scene of a trauma; but at the same time, I was full of hope. It’s like you don’t want to be there, but you know it’s where the answers are. It’s hard to explain, but I do know I had stomach butterflies as soon as I took that last exit to turn down their street. And part of me wanted to turn around right then & there. But I knew I needed this.

When I walked into the office, I didn’t recognize anyone there. Either all of my fellow waiting room friends have gotten pregnant or they’ve given up. Either way, I was kinda sad. I didn’t even recognize the receptionist. Then I realized I hadn’t been in that part of the office for almost three months! Of course things had changed.

Then “A” calls me to the back to talk about the test. I immediately smelled thick smoke on her (which is not new), but what threw me off was that it looked like she was wearing maternity scrubs… and her nose was wider… and she looked kinda nervous. Now, I know for a fact that she has been through fertility treatments before. So it’s no shock, and it’s actually kinda awesome, that she’s pregnant. BUT . YOU’RE STILL SMOKING?!?! SERIOUSLY??!?!!? !@#$%^&*()_)(*&^%$#

I wanted to slap her.

Like seriously. I imagined it. Then I imagined getting hauled off in hand cuffs. So, I refrained.

It was then time for the blood work. The never ending blood work. I’ve been off all meds since May 1st. And the thought never even crossed my mind to take an aspirin or two the night before so the blood would flow easier. So let’s just say it took FOR. EV. VER. I was a trooper though. It hurt like a bitch, don’t get me wrong. She was out of “baby needles” so she had to use a normal one, AND she had to take THREE rather FAT vials of blood. I only asked if it was almost over once. (Still bruised, by the way).

After it was all said & done, I was so proud of myself that I snapped a pic of the vials to prove to David what a champ I was! lol

The girl told me that we’d know the results in about 7-10 days.

I had asked my friend to sub for my class that night because I wasn’t sure how I’d be feeling after the blood work, and thank God I did. After all of that, I was physically AND emotionally drained. And to add to all of that, I found out that David’s little cousin (who I think is 17, but she may be 18) had just announced that she was pregnant. Oh joy. CongratuFRIGGINlations. I can barely contain my enthusiasm for you. Really, what a gift.
If the internet doesn’t come up with an eye-rolling emoji STAT, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

That night, I realized something-
This whole time, I’ve been feeling so sad & almost guilty that David has to go through all of this (and put up with me in the process), that I forgot that I don’t deserve this either.
THIS SUCKS. For BOTH of us. And that’s OK.

It’s OK to not be OK.

What a concept, right? It’s actually kinda refreshing.

The next day, I received an unexpected phone call from “A.” My results were in. That was fast!

Turns out…you guessed it…all my levels were completely normal.

At this point, it doesn’t even pay to have any reaction. Good or bad, it is what it is. Nothing I can do to change it. We’re so used to being “back to square 1” that we both literally had no reaction. It’s kinda sad when you think about it…

Anyway, now what?
What’s the point of doing another IVF/FRET when we don’t know WHY they aren’t working? I need to find out what’s wrong before we can move on. We have our last remaining 5 embryos left. And I refuse to just throw them away without “fixing” something first.

So, that’s where we’re at.
My sister’s wedding is coming up in just a couple of weeks, and I’m so excited! But I have this sinking anxiety in the pit of my stomach that some distant relative will bring up that age-old question: “When are y’all having kids?”
I’m trying to form my clever yet polite response now so I’m not caught off guard, or even worse, so I don’t say something wildly inappropriate or rude to them. I’ll let you know what I come up with. Any suggestions are MUCHO appreciated 🙂

 

Thanks for reading. I promise to write again soon,

Emily
JER 29:11

 

 

-Dear God, please take this desire (to be pregnant, give birth, and raise a baby) away from me if it’s not meant for me. Amen.

FRET Update 4/15

Hey guys!

We had our official meeting with our doctor yesterday to finalize the plans for our Frozen Embryo Transfer (FRET)!
Everything looks great & my uterine lining growth has started to plateau (at an 11.4).

Here’s what the schedule looks like:

Last Lupron shot on Thursday (Thank God!)
Progesterone shots start Friday night
(Enjoy Easter Weekend!)
Final check-up (blood work & ultrasound to make sure everything still looks good) on Monday afternoon.
*FRET Wednesday morning!*
Strict bed rest for 3 days, light bed rest for 2 days, no exercise (aka work) for a week after that.

Before we finalized the schedule, we had a long meeting with Dr. Lu to select which embryos we wanted to thaw. I was nervous because I knew the doctor would strongly advise against it, but I wanted to thaw three. Just with our track record, I want to increase our chances of a positive in whichever way we can. His exact response was, “Emily, I hate to break it to you, but you aren’t the largest person.” He was basically implying that carrying three babies would be near impossible for someone of my stature (5 ft nothing), which I completely understand. But my reasoning is, again with my track record, what are the chances that all three would actually implant/attach?

I know that I need to have faith that this is it. This is the round that will work! But I also consider myself a veteran at this now, and I have to be realistic. It has turned into a numbers game now, and I want to stack the numbers in my favor. Who wouldn’t? Knowing that statistically about 75% of embryos survive the thaw, I originally wanted to thaw 4 so we could implant 3. You can always re-freeze whatever you don’t end up using. Isn’t science grand?

He warned us that IF all three do survive, we implant them, and all three attach, there’s a 1% chance that one will split & we’d have 4 fetuses. It’s happened twice in his practice. He also warned that in the case of triplets (or more), with my size, every doctor I’d come into contact with for the next 9 months would probably suggest what’s known in the medical field as “Selective Reduction.” This is basically just a PC way of saying “let’s kill one of them so you don’t die.” Um, no.

So after all the talking, we came to a compromise.
We will thaw 3, and leave it up to “The Big Guy” (as Dr. Lu calls Him). If all of them survive the thaw, we’ll implant them all. If not, we’ll implant what survived. If none survive, we thaw some more. We have eight total to chose from, so I’m feeling good about it.

After agreeing on the number, we had to pick exactly which ones to thaw.
Here’s the pic of our embryo stats before we filled out the order for the embryo lab:

You can’t see it in the pic, but the bottom of the page is full of “if, then” statements.  Like “If ______ doesn’t survive, then thaw____.” It was nuts, but we figured it all out.

We decided to thaw Straw 2 (with our Grade 4, 97 cell), and Straw 4 (with our Grade 3 & Grade 2, 99 cells).
PHEW! So glad that is DONE!

Please pray for our three little embryos!!
As one of my friends told me today– pray that they find a nice comfy home in me for the next 40 weeks!! lol

I’ll definitely post an update as soon as I have one!
Thanks y’all!!!

Em

PS- PLEASE also pray for anyone & everyone who has ever had to face the impossible life or death decision of selective reduction. That is a decision that no one should ever have to face. And I pray that God’s Grace fill their hearts and protect them no matter what they have to decide.

Shot through the heart…

“Shot through the heart…and Facebook’s to blame. It gives love a bad name.”

Have you ever just mindlessly opened up your Facebook and been accosted with something like this?

I have. Today, actually. And too many times to count before then. (The pic has been edited to cover up names.)

Look, I understand that everyone has the right to post whatever they want. That’s not the issue.  It just sucks royally to feel “judged” by someone who you know is completely clueless as to what’s going on in your life. Apparently, my heart is empty because I don’t have kids. [Oh, and obviously my wallet is just busting at the seams, right? HA! I’m no expert, but I can pretty much speculate that a normal pregnancy only costs a small percentage of what we’ve already paid in fertility bills. Just saying.]  And guess what. My heart is FAR from empty! I have an amazing husband, a wonderful family, the best friends a girl could ask for, AND THE. MOST. LOVING. GOD. PERIOD.  No, my heart is NOT empty. And how dare you assume that?

It’s just not fair. Here I was just going about my lovely little day, and BAM! No warning! A shot to the gut!
My second shot to the gut today, actually. Because I started my Lupron injections this morning…yay. I’ll be taking these shots for the next week or so. And then I have my first FET planning appointment on Wednesday. I am definitely looking forward to getting back on the horse and moving forward. I need to. I am so much less bitter when I’m working towards a pregnancy, instead of recovering from a negative. Please pray for me!

In other news, I’m going to see a new acupuncturist! Not that I don’t LOVE my current Belgian, it’s just becoming increasingly difficult to deal with his office. It feels like a cattle ranch (mostly because it’s just an over-populated outpatient medical office that deals with WAY more than acupuncture); and I’m looking for a more “holistic” and calming approach. Nothing takes you out of “it” more than a loud-ass tic-tocking clock and “MARIA, LINE 3. MARIA, LINE 3.” blaring through the intercom system randomly. Nope, definitely not the relaxing atmosphere I was hoping for. Not to mention the receptionists have no friggin clue what they are doing. But that’s another story.

The new guy I’m going to is in New Orleans, near my fertility doctor’s office. A friend of mine recommended him. And from all the information I’ve gathered, it looks like he’s actually in a practicing, holistic, acupuncture facility. Ahhhhh…my shoulders settle just thinking about it. I’ll definitely let y’all know how it goes!

Anyway, thanks for reading my rant.
And please, if you have kids, don’t think that I hate you. It’s just hard to see things like that over & over again.

I’ll post an update soon 🙂
THANKS!
Em