Finally Arrived

Seeking Comfort at a Strip Mall (Part 3)

>> Continued from Part 1 and Part 2....

The next day, the crater in my soul had enlarged. The pain was crushing. Hoping that caffeine would give me a lift, no matter how minor, I headed out for coffee. At the nearby Starbucks, kids in their Sunday-best ran about and played.  I looked on while tears streamed down my face.  Again, I hid my face behind my hair. I wrote in my journal. I wallowed in my sadness.

Occasionally, I almost made eye contact with someone.

I once had an acquaintance who intuitively knew what was going on with people. He would approach someone, and within minutes she'd be confessing how disappointed she was that her father never acknowledged her and she'd then detail the deepest regrets of her life.  He would listen and listen, and ultimately leave her feeling understood and ready to move beyond her immediate pain.

Part of me hoped a similarly-gifted sorcerer would see me sitting quietly at my corner table.  She would see that I was empty inside, that I was acutely suffering.  She would approach me, say she didn't mean to pry, but maybe it would help for me to tell her my story.  I would protest, of course, but she would persist.

And so I'd tell her the whole story.  How much I wanted children, not just for me but for my husband and whole family.  And how, despite 3.5 years of trying everything, despite losing two pregnancies, despite bleeding out and nearly dying on the operating room table, despite four IVF attempts, despite numerous career and personal sacrifices, despite all my prayers, promises, and hopes, I had still not been blessed. All that suffering, for nothing! How distraught I was that I had let everyone down.  How I believed I was being punished for something, but was frustrated because I did not know for what. How I felt it all to be so very, very unfair.

This woman, she would listen to the whole thing, through my sobs and tears.  She would tell me she agreed; it was so profoundly unjust. That I was incredibly strong for having been through so much thus far, and I would get through this as well, somehow.  That I had a right to feel so very lost. That my life did have meaning, and it will continue to into the future; it just might be in a different way than I expected. And then she would hug me -- this woman I hardly knew -- and I would sob on her shoulder. And she would gently stroke my head and tell me that it was all going to be okay. She promised.

And I would believe her.

Seeking Comfort at a Strip Mall (Part 2)

>> Continued from Part 1.

When I arrived at home, I withdrew to my bedroom. I flopped down on the pillows and cried until I was physically exhausted. I took a nap, woke up, and then sobbed some more.  I felt alone, emotionally cut off from my husband. He did not understand. He could not comfort me.

I have muscle memory -- although no conscious recollection -- of being a distraught child and receiving hugs from my mother. There, there.  Everything is going to be fine, I promise.  Those embraces and mutterings would calm me, make me feel safe, and give me the strength to carry on.

That is exactly what I wanted, needed, at that moment. Even though I rationally knew there was nothing -- absolutely nothing -- that anyone could do to make it all okay, I still wanted to hear the words. This is why I called my mother.  Getting succor from my husband was perhaps unrealistic. He had his own pain.  Who was I to assume that he should comfort me when he was dealing with his own pain and loss? 

And so I dialed my mother and we talked... and talked, about anything not related to infertility. About my Dad's health, her health, my weight loss, her job, their finances, our dog, my brother's new baby.  "She's just like you as a baby!  She has a ton of dark brown hair that stands up on end, and she squirms away whenever you try to hold her."

"I didn't like to be held as a baby?"

"No, you couldn't stand it."

How I had changed, then. At that moment, more than anything I wanted to be engulfed in the love and caring arms of my mother or husband.

"Your niece, she looks just like you," my mother continued.  "Everyone says it. "

"Well, at least there will be one baby that looks like me out there," I said, finally finding an opening. Although she knows full well what T and I have been through, my mother never asked how we were coping. I always had to force it into the conversation.

Uncomfortable silence. 

"So, I guess I should tell you that our fourth IVF failed (did I even tell you that we tried a third time?)"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I don't know what to say."

"We're trying to figure out what to do next..."

"You should start filling out paperwork for an international adoption... Oh, are you coming out for Christmas?"

Ah. An obvious "solution" and a not-so-deft change of subject.  Not exactly what I had hoped for or needed.

>> Continue with Part 3.

Seeking Comfort at a Strip Mall (Part 1)

Originally written on 10/8/05, two days after I learned IVF attempt #4 failed.  It has taken me this long to revisit the raw emotions I associate with this post.

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My husband was with me on Saturday, the day our RE told us  IVF #4 was a bust, that proceeding to retrieval would likely yield just one mature egg.

Before we could leave the clinic, we had to meet with a nurse coordinator.  Waiting in the reception area, I feigned interest in the unique texture pattern of the walls and ceiling, looking up and away from discerning glances with unnaturally wide-eyed interest.  Upon realizing how silly I must have looked, I attempted tactic #2 for hiding public crying:  gazing down at the floor while my shoulder-length, straight hair fell over my face and obscured my expression.  Such is my habit when I am teary-eyed, which happens at least once or twice a day. 

"I'm so, so sorry," I whispered to T, my eyes full of water.

T looked at me with great concern in his eyes, his hand alternately touching my back or holding my hand, trying to give me a bit of comfort. He saw me fighting back the tears and looked about the waiting room nervously.  At one point I made the slightest of noise which he recognized as a prelude to actual sobbing. 

"Why can't we ever catch a break?" I whispered to T. 

He responded, "Not here, not here." 

The semi-public venue of the clinic waiting room held him back, and kept him from giving me the true, honest-to-goodness hug that we both desperately needed.  And, I must admit, I found it upsetting.  I never understood why he consistently chose stoicism over affection.

He drove us home, and in the car my emotions were unleashed.  I cried and wailed and screamed at the sky. "It's not fair! Why did this have to be happening? Why couldn't something go right, just for once, for a change?  We've been at this so long and gone through so much. For four years we've arranged our lives around children that never come."

"We should be grateful for what we have. We have a house, good jobs, savings... That's more than most people," T said.

I took no comfort in those words. "I would give up any of those things to have a child," I croaked between sobs so hard they caused my body to spasm.

"There are people who have it a lot worse than us, you know. People who've tried for 7 years or more."

Again, it didn't make me feel any better. When I continued to cry, T said, "You know what, I think we shouldn't try anymore.  I don't think you can handle it emotionally."

What? Never try again?  I was stunned. It had been less than 20 minutes since confronting our latest failure.  I felt I should have been allowed a grieving period of at least an hour or so.

And then T said something like, "why do you want kids anyway?" and surmised I would only accept children to whom I was genetically linked.  I felt betrayed. I explained the genetic connection was of lesser concern to me than a birthmother taking our baby away from us.

"Well, we don't know for sure that social services wouldn't take away our biological child from us," T debated.

And then I snapped.  Black-sky despair to irate anger within a fraction of a second.  "Are you fucking kidding me?  No one would take our biological child away from us unless I was a crackhead or you were abusing me! What the FUCK, T?" I yelled.

We did not speak the rest of the drive home.

>> To be continued.  Jump to Part 2.

IVF #4: Over So Soon

Attention:

IVF #4 has been cancelled prior to retrieval due to poor response.  Odds were 80% that only one egg, which now measures 18.5 mm, would be retrieved this Monday.  Not worth it.

I have no idea what to do next.  Try again with IVF #5? A new clinic?  Donor eggs? Donor embryos? Adoption? Give up?

I feel flattened.  For once I have no words to describe how lost, how detached from the real world and from my fellow human beings, I feel.  This does not seem like it could really be happening.

IVF #4: Not the Greatest

Quickie cycle update.  I'm on cycle day 6 of IVF #4, and had a follicle check ultrasound this morning. 

There are two 13mm follicles on the right, but unfortunately we are pretty sure that only one contains an egg and the other is an empty cyst left over from the last cycle. On the left are two 8mm follicles. So, there are four total follicles that contain only three eggs, with one egg far ahead of the other two. No other follicles in sight.

A pretty poor response, yet again.  Not exactly the back-to-back-cycle effect I was hoping for. 

Next ultrasound is Saturday.

IVF #4 Underway

IVF #4 is underway.  My protocol is the same as for IVF #2 and #3 -- basically maximum dosages of all stims, plus Letrazole and Antagon -- except we are also adding Trental and Estradiol suppositories. 

Dr. Google tells me that Trental is a possible infertility magic pill that can help with poor ovarian response, poor uterine linings, autoimmune disease, and endometriosis.  The exact things things that I need help with. Let's hope that this magic pill does something for me.

IVF #4: Let's Get Started, Already?

A little cycle news...

I'm on CD 32 right now. Maroon 5 will show up later this week, and then we'll get IVF #4 started on CD2.  My cycle is late because Dr. Blond kept me on progesterone for the last 3 weeks.  I can't remember the medical logic behind that right now, but I know it also ensure that I won't need my clinic's lab when it is closed later this month.  Baseline ultrasound is planned for Saturday, when I get back from my visit to my company's Kansas office.

Speaking of Kansas, do you have any idea how hard it is for me to stay on the Weight Watchers diet in the Land of the Cow,  Pig, and (ahem) "Intelligent" Design?  Good Lawd, everything I order -- including salads, soups, decaf lattes --has bacon in it. And not just a little; half a pig is in there.  Just TRY to go on a business lunch or dinner without having steak,  ribs, or chicken-fried something-or-another.  And the portion sizes ... gasp!  My colleague ordered a single slice of chocolate cake at dinner, and was served a piece the size of a basketball.  I am not exaggerating. It seems the cake is cooked in a 15" pan.  I was stunned.

The other thing about visiting Kansas is I need to keep my liberal politics to myself.  In San Francisco, the default assumption is your politics are left-leaning; as a result, complete strangers in the local Starbucks and I can bond while bashing the current adminisration.

It's the exact opposite here in Kansas. In Kansas, even seemingly normal, intelligent, educated people vote Republican and think George W is "doing a good job for the victims of Katrina."   Egad.  Hearing such things is a shock to my system.  It makes me shout at the sky and ask "why, Gawd, why did you do this to us?" even more than infertility does.

Around the office, I have noticed a lot of Christian paraphernalia on people's desks, like brochures from that infamous homophobic, anti-choice, anti-ART, anti-stem cell group, Focus on the Family.  So you can bet that I won't be telling anyone here about my IVF adventures.

And my final Kansasian observation: it is SO caucasian here. As a SF Bay Area resident who works in the high-tech industry, I am accustomed to being one of the only caucasians in the room.  Out here in the Kansas City suburbs, ethnic diversity is nill even though many high tech companies, including Sprint, are located nearby.  I'm sure this contributes to the complete lack of respect for minorities of all kinds, including gays, women, vegetarians and non-Christians Republican bias of this area. 

Also, last weekend I had the chance to partake in a lovely California-style brunch with Modern Millie from Out damned egg! Out, I Say!  And let me tell you, that woman ROCKS the HOUSE.  She is so durn intelligent, insightful, FUNNY, sweet... you name it. All the Good Stuff.  I am such a uncomfortable dork when I meet people for the first time, but she had a way of putting me right at ease.  We went out to brunch and talked and talked and talked for nearly 4 hours solid.  And I think we could have kept going for another 4 if I didn't have an appointment to rush to.  Wow.  In the vernacular of my home state, she is WICKED AWESOME.

Getting Back Up: The Plan

I'm almost embarrassed to admit this.

We are going to start IVF attempt #4 in a week or so, back-to-back with failed IVF #3.  With the same clinic.  And the same protocol, except adding estrogen for 7-10 days before the cycle starts.

I'll bet this plan sounds pretty stupid to you, especially when my last cycle sucked so badly. 

Let me explain...

I'm banking on a possible "back-to-back" effect.  I hope that my next cycle will be more successful because the follicles had a "head start" from the injections of the previous failed cycle.  This is what happened with my 1st IVF cycle (one follicle) and 2nd (eight eggs retrieved), and those cycles proceeded back-to-back.  So, I'm hoping that some of those follicles that never developed in cycle #3 will get going with cycle #4.

My doctor thinks this is a plausible, although unsubstantiated, theory.  Follicular recruitment starts 90 days prior to a cycle, and it could be that in poor responders the recruitment process improves with multiple cycles of exposure to gonadotropins.  And there is some anecdotal "evidence" that the incidence of natural pregnancies increase the cycle following a failed IVF.  There are no scientific studies on the topic yet, though.

So, I'm not switching clinics because 1) my doctor is willing to let me do back-to-back cycles where most clinics don't allow it, 2) there's no time to find a new clinic anyway.

And we're not changing the protocol because during cycle #2, the same protocol worked really well.

So round 42 commences.  I'm off the mat, but still shaky on my feet.